Chapter Three
I love the design,” Pearson Matthews told Paris on Friday afternoon as Paris zipped down the gently winding mountain road on his bike. The pavement was still wet from the rain earlier this morning. Puddles splashed the legs of his jeans as he hit them.
He had earbuds in place under his helmet so he could ride hands-free and hold a conversation without the roar of the engine interfering. “I’m glad you like it, sir.”
“Love. I said love,” Pearson said. “And I plan to recommend you to everyone I know. I’m part of the Chamber of Commerce, so I have business connections. I’m going to make sure you have enough work to keep you in Sweetwater Springs for years to come.”
Paris felt a curious kick in his heart. He loved this town and didn’t like to think about leaving…but he had never been one to stick anywhere for long either. He credited the foster system for that. “Thank you.”
“No need for thanks. You did a great job, and I want others to know about it. You’re an asset here.”
Paris resisted saying thank you a second time. “Well, please make sure anyone you send my way tells me that you referred them. I give referral perks.”
Pearson was one of the richest men in the community, so he likely didn’t need any perks. “Sounds good. I’ll talk to you soon.”
They hung up, and Paris continued down the road, slowing at the entrance to the local library. His heart gave another curious kick at the thought of Lacy for a reason he didn’t want to investigate. He parked, got off his bike, and then walked inside with his laptop bag on his shoulder.
Lacy wasn’t behind the counter when he walked in. His gaze roamed the room, finding her with two little girls that he’d seen here before. She was helping them locate a book. One little girl was squirming as she stood in place, and Paris thought maybe she needed to locate a restroom first.
“Here you go. I think you girls will like this one,” he heard Lacy tell them. “Abby, do you need to use the bathroom?”
The girl bobbed her head emphatically.
“You know where it is. Go ahead.” Lacy pointed to the bathroom near the front entrance’s double doors, and both girls took off in a sprint. Lacy watched them for a moment and then turned back to her computer. She gasped softly when she saw Paris. “You’re here early. Do you need something?” she asked.
Need something? Yeah, he needed an excuse for why he’d been standing here stupidly waiting to talk to her.
“A book maybe?” Lacy stepped closer and lowered her voice.
“Yeah,” he said. “I’m looking for a book.”
“Okay. What exactly are you looking for?” she asked.
He scanned the surrounding shelves before his gaze landed back on her. “Actually, do you have anything on roses?”
Lacy’s perfectly pink lips parted.
Paris had been trying to think of something he could do for his former foster parents, and roses had come to mind. Albert Jenson loved roses, but his wife, Nancy, adored the thorny beauties. “I was thinking about making a flower garden at the nursing home, but my thumbs are more black than green.”
Lacy giggled softly. “Follow me.” She led him to a wall of books in the nonfiction area and bent to inspect the titles.
Paris tried and failed not to admire her curves as she leaned forward in front of him. Get it together, man.
“Here you go. The Dummie’s Guide to Roses.” She straightened and held a book out to him.
“Dummie’s Guide?”
Her cheeks flushed. “Don’t take offense. I didn’t title it.”
Paris made a point of looking at the other titles that had sandwiched the book on the shelf. “No, but you didn’t choose to give me the one titled Everything There Is to Know About Roses or The Rose Lover’s Handbook.” He returned to looking at her, fascinated by how easily he could make her blush. “Any luck on Fish In The Sea dot com?”
She looked away, pulling her hands to her midsection to fidget. “I’ve been meaning to cancel that. The ladies had good intentions when they signed me up, albeit misguided.”
“Why did they choose you as their victim?”
Lacy shrugged. “I have this high school reunion coming up. They thought I’d be more likely to go if I had a date.”
“You’re not going to your own reunion?” Paris asked.
“I haven’t decided yet,” she said as she inched away and increased the distance between them.
Unable to help himself, Paris inched forward. He told himself it was because they had to whisper and he couldn’t hear her otherwise.
“Have you gone to one of yours?” she asked.
“No.” He shook his head. “I never stayed in one place long enough while I was growing up to be considered an official part of a class. If I had, I would.” He looked at her. “You should go. I’m sure you could find a date, even without the dating site.” Part of him was tempted to offer to take her himself. By nature, he was a helpful guy. He resisted offering though because there was another part of him that wanted to be her date for an entirely different reason.
He lifted The Dummie’s Guide to Roses. “I’ll just check this out and get set up for my class.”
Lacy headed back behind the counter and held out her hand to him. “Library card, please.”
“Library card?” he repeated.
“I need it to check you out.”
He laid the book on the counter. “I, uh, I…”
“You don’t have one?” she asked, grinning back at him.
“I do most of my reading on the computer. I guess it’s been a while since I’ve checked a book out.”
“No problem.” She opened a drawer and pulled out a blank card. “I can make you one right now. Do you have a driver’s license?”
He pulled out his wallet and laid his license on the counter. He watched as she grabbed it and got to work. Then she handed the card back to him, her fingers brushing his slightly in the handoff. Every nerve in his body responded to that one touch. If he wasn’t mistaken, she seemed affected as well.
There was the real reason he hadn’t offered to be her date for her class reunion. He was attracted to Lacy Shaw, and he really didn’t want to be.
* * *
Lacy lifted her gaze to the computer room in the back of the library where Paris was teaching a class of unruly elders. From afar, he actually seemed to be enjoying himself. She’d called several people before Paris, trying to persuade them to teach a class here, and everyone had been too busy with their own lives. That made her wonder why a guy like Paris was able to accept her offer. Did he have any family? Close friends? A girlfriend?
She roped in her gaze and continued checking in books from the pile beside her. Paris Montgomery’s personal life was none of her business.
“Ms. Shaw! Ms. Shaw!” Abigail and Willow Fields came running toward the checkout counter.
“What’s wrong, girls?” Lacy sat up straighter, noting the panic in the sisters’ voices.
“Mrs. Townsend won’t wake up! We thought she was sleeping, but she won’t wake up!”
Lacy took off running to the other side of the room where she’d known Mrs. Townsend was sleeping. Immediately, she recognized that the older woman was hunched over the table in an unnatural way. Her skin was a pale gray color that sent chills up Lacy’s spine.
Panic gripped Lacy as she looked around at the small crowd of people who’d gathered. “Does anyone know CPR?” she called. There were at least a dozen books here on the subject, but she’d never learned.
Everyone gave her a blank stare. Lacy’s gaze snagged on the young sisters huddled against the wall with tears spilling over their pale cheeks. If Mrs. Townsend died in front of them, they’d be devastated.
“Let’s get her on the floor,” a man’s voice said, coming up behind Lacy.
She glanced back, surprised to find Paris in action.
He gently grabbed hold of Mrs. Townsend and laid her on the floor, taking control of the situation. She was never more thankful for
help in her life.
“Call 911!” Lacy shouted to the crowd, relieved to see a young woman run toward the library counter where there was a phone. A moment later, the woman headed back. “They’re on their way.”
Lacy nodded as she returned to watching Paris perform chest compressions. He seemed to know exactly what to do. Several long minutes later, sirens filled the parking lot, and paramedics placed Mrs. Townsend onto a gurney. They revived her just enough for Mrs. Townsend to moan and look at the girls, her face seeming to contort with concern.
“It’s okay. I’ll take care of them, Mrs. Townsend,” Lacy told her. “Just worry about taking care of yourself right now.”
Lacy hoped Mrs. Townsend heard and understood. A second later, the paramedics loaded the older woman in the back of the ambulance and sped away, sirens screaming as they tore down the street.
Lacy stood on wobbly legs and tried to catch her breath. She pressed a hand against her chest, feeling like she might collapse or dissolve into tears.
“You all right?” Paris asked, pinning his ocean-blue gaze on hers.
She looked at him and shook her head. “Yes.”
“You’re contradicting yourself again,” he said with a slight lift at one corner of his mouth. Then his hand went to her shoulder and squeezed softly. “Why don’t you go sit down?”
“The girls,” Lacy said, suddenly remembering her promise. She turned to where the sisters were still huddled and hurried over to where they were. “Mrs. Townsend is going to get help at the hospital. They’ll take good care of her there, I promise.”
Abby looked up. “What’s wrong with her?”
Lacy shook her head. “I’m not sure, honey. I’m sure everything will be okay. Right now, I’m going to call your dad to come get you.”
“He’s at work,” Willow said. “That’s why we were with Mrs. Townsend.”
“I know, honey. But he won’t mind leaving the farm for a little bit. Follow me to the counter. I have some cookies up there.”
The girls’ eyes lit up, even as tears dripped from their eyelashes.
“I can call Granger while you take care of the girls,” Paris offered.
How did Paris know that these sweet little children belonged to Granger Fields? As if hearing her thoughts, he explained, “I did some graphic design work on the Merry Mountain Farms website recently.”
“Of course. That would be great,” Lacy said, her voice sounding shaky. And she’d do her best to calm down in the meantime too.
* * *
Thirty minutes later, Granger Fields left the library with his little girls in tow, and Lacy plopped down on her stool behind the counter. The other patrons had emptied out of the library as well, and it was two minutes until closing time.
“Eventful afternoon,” Paris said.
Lacy startled as he walked into view. She hadn’t realized he was still here. “You were great with the CPR. You might have a second career as a paramedic.”
He shook his head. “I took a class in college, but I’ll stick to computers, thanks.”
“And I’ll stick to books. My entire body is still trembling.”
Paris’s dark brows stitched together. “I can take you home if you’re not up for driving.”
“On your bike?” she asked. “I’m afraid that wouldn’t help my nerves at all.”
Paris chuckled. “Not a fan of motorcycles, huh?”
“I’ve never been on one, and I don’t plan to start this evening. It’s time to close, and my plans include calling the hospital to check on Mrs. Townsend and then going home, changing into my PJs, and soothing my nerves with ice cream.”
Paris leaned against her counter. “While you were with the girls, I called a friend I know who works at Sweetwater Memorial. She checked on things for me and just texted me an update.” He held up his cell phone. “Mrs. Townsend is stable but being admitted so they can watch her over the next forty-eight hours.”
Lacy blew out a breath. “That’s really good news. For a moment there, she looked like she might die. If we hadn’t gone over to her when we did, she might have just passed away in her sleep.” Lacy wasn’t sure she would’ve felt as safe in her little library ever again if that had happened.
“Life is fragile,” Paris said. “Something like this definitely puts things into perspective, doesn’t it?”
“It really does.” Her worries and fears suddenly seemed so silly and so small.
Paris straightened from the counter and tugged his bag higher on his shoulder. “See you tomorrow,” he said as he headed out of the library.
She watched him go and then set about to turning off all the lights. She grabbed her things and locked up behind her as she left, noticing Paris and his motorcycle beside her car in the parking lot.
“If I didn’t know you were a nice guy, I might be a little scared by the fact that you’re waiting beside my car in an empty parking lot.”
“I’m harmless.” He hugged his helmet against him. “You looked a little rattled in there. I wanted to make sure you got home safely. I’ll follow you.”
Lacy folded her arms over her chest. “Maybe I don’t want you to know where I live.”
“The end of Pine Cone Lane. This is a small town, and I get around with business.”
“I see. Well, you don’t need to follow me home. Really, I’m fine.”
“I’d feel better if I did.”
Lacy held out her arms. “Suit yourself. Good night, Paris.” She stepped inside her vehicle, closed the door behind her, and cranked her engine. It rolled and flopped. She turned the key again. This time it didn’t even roll. “Crap.” This day just kept getting better.
After a few more attempts, Paris tapped on her driver’s side window.
She opened the door. “The battery is dead. I think I left my lights on this morning.” It’d been raining, and she’d had them on to navigate through the storm. She’d forgotten her umbrella, so she’d turned off her engine, gotten out of her car, and had darted toward the library. In her rush, she must’ve forgotten to turn off her lights.
“I’ll call Jere’s Shop. He can jump your battery or tow it back to your house,” Paris said.
Lacy considered the plan. “I can just wait here for him and drive it back myself.”
“Jere is dependable but slow. You don’t need to be out here waiting for him all evening. Leave your keys in the ignition, and I’ll take you home.”
Lacy looked at the helmet that Paris now extended toward her, her brain searching for another option. She didn’t want to be here all night. She could call one of her sisters, but they would then follow her inside, and she didn’t want to deal with them after the day she’d had either.
She got out of the car and took the helmet. “Okay,” she said, shaking her head no.
This made Paris laugh as he led her to his bike. “You are one big contradiction, Lacy Shaw.”
* * *
Paris straddled his bike and waited for Lacy to take the seat behind him. He glanced over his shoulder as she wrung her hands nervously. She seemed to be giving herself a pep talk, and then she lunged, as if forcing herself, and straddled the seat behind him.
Paris grinned and waited for another long second. “You know, you’re going to have to wrap your arms around my waist for the ride.”
“Right,” he heard her say in a muffled voice. Her arms embraced him, clinging more tightly as he put the motorcycle in motion. Before he was even down the road, Lacy’s grasp on him was so tight that her head rested on his back. He kind of liked the feel of her body hugging his, even if it was because she was scared for her life.
He knew the way to her house, but at the last second, he decided to take a different route. Lacy didn’t speak up, so he guessed her eyes were shut tightly, blocking out the streets that zipped past.
Instead of taking her home, he drove her to the park, where the hot spring was. There were hiking trails and a hot dog vendor too. On her profile, Lacy had said those were among her
favorite things, and after this afternoon, she deserved a few guilty pleasures.
He pulled into the parking lot and cut the engine. Slowly, Lacy peeled her body away from him. He felt her shift as she looked around.
She removed her helmet. “Why are we at the park?”
Paris glanced back. “Surprise. I thought I’d take your mind off things before I took you home.”
She stared at him, a dumbfounded expression creasing her brow. “Why the park?”
“Because you love to take long hikes. And hot dogs, so I thought we’d grab a couple afterward. I didn’t wear my hiking boots, but these will work for a quick half mile down the trail. Your profile mentioned that you love the hot spring here.”
Lacy blinked. “You read my dating profile?”
“Great late-night reading.” He winked.
She drew her hand to her forehead and shook her head. Something told him this time the head shake wasn’t a yes. “Most of the information on my profile was exaggerated by the ladies’ group. Apparently, they didn’t think the real Lacy Shaw was interesting enough.”
“You don’t like hiking?”
“I like leisurely walks.”
“Dogs?” he asked.
“Cats are my preference.”
Paris let his gaze roam around them briefly before looking back at her. “What do you like?”
“In general?” she asked.
“Let’s start with food. I’m starving.”
She gave him a hesitant look. “Well, the hot dog part was true, but only because I added that part after they left.”
Paris grinned, finding her adorable and sexy at the same time. “I happen to love a good chili dog. And there’s a stand at the far side of the park.” He waited for her to get off the bike and then he climbed off as well. “Let’s go eat, shall we?”
“Saving someone’s life works up an appetite, I guess.”
“I didn’t save Mrs. Townsend’s life,” he said as they walked. “I just kept her alive so someone else could do that.”
From the corner of his eye, he saw Lacy fidgeting.
He reached for her hand to stop the motion. “I brought you here to take your mind off that situation. Let’s talk about something light.”
Can't Hurry Love Page 34
