Shelf Awareness: Green Valley Library Book #4

by Romance, Smartypants

  I winced at his comment. “I’m so sorry about Bart.”

  “You and me both.”

  “I wish I had some words of comfort or even wisdom at the moment, but I don’t.”

  “It’s okay. I’m just glad you are here.”

  “I am too. Otherwise, I think you would have beat the shit out of Bart.”

  Chuckling, Zeke replied, “Yeah, I think so too. While I couldn’t have taken him in his prime, I’m pretty sure I could win now.”

  “I think so too. At the same time, I wouldn’t want to see who he might’ve called to help him out.”

  “Neither would I.” He rubbed his eyes. “I should’ve known. I mean, part of me did know he was going to be an utterly worthless piece of shit. At the same time, I had this tiny bit of hope he would be somewhat decent.”

  I brought my hand to his cheek and turned his head to look at me. “Bart’s DNA might be a part of you, but you are nothing like him. You are one of the kindest and most honorable men I’ve ever met. Everyone who has spent time with you in Green Valley would say the same thing. Your reputation is one of integrity, honor, and compassion. Besides all that, you are a gentleman who respects women.”

  Zeke stared into my eyes. “You don’t have to do this, Finley.”

  “Yeah, I do. I need to do whatever is within my power to help you to see how special you are. Trust me, Zeke, they don’t make men like you anymore. You are the son any man would be honored to have if he possessed one shred of morality.”

  He leaned forward and brought his lips to mine. “Thank you.”

  “I mean it. And you’re welcome.”

  “I know you do.”

  After one last kiss, Zeke brought his hands to the gear shift and the steering wheel. We then got back on the road home. “As soon as we get out of the city limits, we can grab something to drink,” I suggested.

  “That sounds like a plan.”

  Reaching over, I dug my phone out of my purse. “What are you doing?” Zeke asked.

  “Texting Thuy we’re okay.” At his pained expression, I shook my head. “Don’t worry. I’m not going to say anything about what we found.”

  “Thanks.”

  After I’d sent my text, Zeke’s phone rang. When he glanced at the ID, he grimaced. “It’s Ama. I’d told her I was planning on trying to see Bart today. I guess she couldn’t wait to hear how it went.”

  “Oh no. What are you going to tell her?”

  He shook his head. “How can I possibly tell her the truth? That he remembers her only because she was a good lay and a notch on his belt?”

  “Obviously not.”

  Zeke continued staring at the phone until the call went to voicemail. “How could she possibly have been attracted to that piece of shit?”

  “She was young, and we do stupid shit when we’re young,” I suggested.

  “There’s stupid shit, and then there’s a weekend stand with Bart.”

  “Back then, he was very good-looking. He probably talked a big game—maybe he was even charming.” I shrugged. “For a young girl who wanted to do something rebellious, he fit the bill.”

  “Men like Bart should be sterilized,” Zeke grunted.

  “Normally, I would agree.” I smiled at him. “But in your case, the world would be lacking you if he’d been sterilized.”

  “I suppose you’re right.”

  As his phone beeped with the message, he sighed. “How can I lie to her?”

  I shook my head. “You can’t. You just state the facts.”

  With a grunt, Zeke replied, “How the hell do I do that and not break her heart?”

  “Just say Bart wasn’t open to a relationship with you.”

  Zeke appeared contemplative. “What if she wants to know what he’s done with his life?”

  “He got out of the MC world, and he’s now living a quiet life.”

  “I suppose that would work. I just have this feeling she’ll want to know all about him.”

  “She might. After all, he’s the father of one of her children. But just think of the ways you can protect her memory of him.”

  “As long as she doesn’t try to find him herself.”

  That was a possibility I hadn’t thought of. “Then you can cross that bridge when you get to it. Should she get mad about what you told her, you can always explain you were just trying to protect her.”

  Zeke nodded. “There is one thing I’m certain of.”

  “And what’s that?”

  “There’s no way I can return her call until we cross the county line, and I get a big ol’ drink.”

  I grinned. “Not only do I concur, but I’m buying.”

  “You’re really too good, did you know that?”

  With a wink, I replied, “I had a hunch.”

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Two mornings later I woke up wrapped in Zeke’s embrace. Smiling, I snuggled closer against him. Waking up with Zeke was becoming a bad habit. One I could easily get used to long-term. At that thought, my smile faded. I had to remind myself once again that what we had wasn’t long-term. Now that Zeke had closed the chapter on who his father was, it was only reasonable to assume he would be heading back to Washington sooner rather than later.

  Of course, I hadn’t broached the subject with him. My better judgment had been clouded by the hot sex and sweet companionship. That was the only excuse I could think of as to how I continued to go along with the charade that Zeke was just a friend with benefits. Deep down, I knew the truth.

  I was falling for him. And I was falling hard.

  “Hey,” Zeke’s deep voice rumbled behind me.

  Turning over in the bed, I faced him. “Hey.”

  “Are you okay?”

  “Fine. Why?”

  “You tensed up on me. I thought you might’ve been having a bad dream or something.”

  Shit. “No. I realized I was going to have to get up and go to work,” I lied.

  “But you love your job,” he countered.

  “Yes, but if I didn’t have to work, I could stay here and screw you seven ways to Sunday.”

  Zeke groaned. “How I wish you could. That we both could.”

  “You have big plans today?”

  “Remember I’m heading over to Cherokee since Ama asked me to come over today to meet a few of my Oklahoma relatives who are in town.”

  “Oh, that’s right.” I couldn’t believe I’d forgotten, considering how excited Zeke was to meet more of his biological family. Although he hadn’t said it, I could only imagine after seeing Bart, he was excited to meet more sane and stable members of his gene pool.

  “If you didn’t have to work, I would totally take you with me.”

  My heart flipped-flopped at his statement. Since we weren’t a couple, I couldn’t imagine why he would want to take me with him to meet family. “Maybe next time,” I replied.

  He smiled. “Yes. Next time for sure. Ama’s been wanting to meet you.”

  “She has?” I wondered what he had told her about me. Was I just a co-worker of his at the library? The friend who accompanied him to meet Bart? I’m pretty sure he hadn’t described me as the wanton divorcee he was doing the dirty with.

  Zeke nodded. “She’s especially grateful you went with me to meet Bart.”

  Right. The Friend. “Has she tried to get any more information about him out of you?”

  “No. Somehow I think she might’ve done some digging herself from some of the comments she’s made.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “She keeps asking me if he’s tried to get in touch with me again.”

  “Does she think he’s going to change his mind and suddenly want a relationship?”

  “No. I think she’s more concerned he might come after me.”

  A shiver ran down my spine. “For revenge?”

  “Or other things,” he replied as he pulled himself into a sitting position.

  I rose up beside him. “What other things could Bart want with yo
u?”

  “Maybe to use me for my technological skills. He’s the type who might want me to hack into a banking system or a credit card company.”

  “I hadn’t even thought of that.”

  Zeke must’ve sensed my apprehension. “Don’t worry. I think Ama’s imagination is running in overdrive.”

  “I hope that’s all it is.”

  “Like I told her. I seriously doubt Bart has the wherefore to remember my name, least of all to try and hunt me down.”

  Although I wanted to believe him, I couldn’t quite put away my unease. “You be careful in Cherokee.”

  Zeke grinned. “Don’t tell me you think Bart’s going to track me down there?”

  “He knows that’s where Ama’s from and where you found her.”

  “Once again, I think you’re giving Bart too much credit.” He kissed the tip of my nose. “Come on. Keep me company in the shower.”

  With a grin, I threw the covers back. I had the feeling we were going to get very dirty before we got clean.

  Zeke dropped me off at the library on his way out of town. It was a packed day, including instruction with a small genealogy group. I had to gobble my lunch down in ten minutes. At the end of the day, instead of going home when everyone else left, I decided to stay and work on my book. It was infinitely easier to use the books at the library instead of carting them home each time. Engrossed in a volume of Yuchi legends, time flew by until my phone ringing interrupted me.

  At the sound of GramBea’s ringtone, I couldn’t help feeling slightly disappointed it wasn’t Zeke. I was hoping when he got back to town, we might meet up for a late dinner . . . or sex. “Hey, GramBea.”

  “Hey, sweetheart. The girls and I are going to The Front Porch for dinner, and we thought if you didn’t have plans, we might swing by and pick you up.”

  “You don’t have a hot date tonight with Floyd?” I countered.

  GramBea tsked on the other end of the phone. “For your information, he’s visiting his son this weekend in Knoxville.”

  “I see.”

  “What about Zeke?”

  “He’s on his way back from Cherokee and visiting family.”

  “Since we’re both free from our menfolk, how about dinner?”

  “Sure. That sounds great.”

  “l see. We’ll be there in about twenty minutes.”

  “Okay. Just text me, and I’ll come out and meet you.”

  “Finley Anne, you know I don’t text.”

  With a sigh, I replied, “Let Estelle do it.”

  “Okay, I will.”

  After I hung up, I started putting up the books I had out. I couldn’t help grinning at the thought of GramBea and Floyd. Since my divorce party, they’d been pretty hot and heavy. Well, as hot and heavy as two eighty-year-olds could be. I also found it amusing how my mother and her two brothers were slightly horrified when they found out GramBea was dating. Unlike me, they weren’t encouraging at first, but now they seemed to be coming around. I was pretty sure my uncles, Randall and Robert, would be adamant about not calling him Dad.

  The sound of a male voice in the doorway caused me to drop one of the heavy books. Whirling around, I couldn’t hide my surprise at who stood before me. “Bart?”

  A wide grin stretched across his hollow cheeks. “The one and only.”

  I could only imagine one thing that would make him come back to Green Valley. “Zeke’s not here tonight.”

  “I know.”

  “Then what are you doing here?”

  “I came for you.”

  Furrowing my brows, I asked, “Why would you want to see me?”

  “You’re Zeke’s girlfriend, aren’t you?”

  Seriously? Now Bart was even trying to define what was going on between Zeke and me. “Not exactly.” At Bart’s confusion, I replied, “Technically, we’re not a couple. We spend time together, but we have yet to address the parameters of our relationship considering my recent divorce and his recent breakup.”

  With a scowl, Bart demanded, “What the fuck does that mean?”

  Frankly, I didn’t know either. “He’s not my boyfriend.”

  “But you mean something to him, don’t you?”

  “Sure. But like as a friend.” Okay, maybe it was more a “friends with benefits” situation, but I was sure as hell not telling Bart that.

  “As his friend, I would venture to say Zeke would pay a lot of money to ensure not a hair on your pretty head was harmed.”

  Unease crept along my spine, causing me to shiver. What the hell? This conversation had certainly taken a weird turn. After taking a step back from Bart, I replied, “I would think so.”

  “Zeke’s a pretty wealthy guy.”

  “I guess.”

  “Silly bitch. How can you possibly be just his friend and not know about his money?”

  “Because I don’t care about money—I care about him.”

  “You should. He’s loaded. Not to mention those parents of his. Didn’t he tell you that?”

  “No. It hasn’t come up.”

  “After you two left, I did a little research on Zeke Masters. Besides finding out he was doing some volunteer shit here at this library, I found out a hell of a lot more about his life in Seattle.” Wagging his brows, he asked, “Wanna know what else I found?” Bart didn’t give me a chance to respond. “His daddy is Arthur Masters.”

  “And?”

  Bart snorted contemptuously. “Arthur Masters is one of Washington state’s wealthiest men. A billionaire.”

  I could barely hide my surprise. While I’d imagined Zeke’s family did well, I had no idea they had that much money. He certainly didn’t act like the heir of a billionaire. I guess it was because of idiots like Bart he never mentioned it. “Well, good for the Masters,” I remarked.

  “Maybe not just for them.”

  “I don’t think I understand.”

  “Once I found that out, it got me to thinkin’. Zeke would never willingly give me any money. I would have to take it.” An evil grin curved on his lips. “Then I got to figuring that if I’s to take you, he’d pay a lot of money to get you back.”

  Holy shit. Bart had come to kidnap me? No, no, no! This seriously couldn’t be happening. “Y-You want to kidnap me for ransom?”

  “You’re damn right.” He took a step toward me. “All it took was one call to an old buddy of mine, and I found everything I needed to know about you.”

  Shit. How was I going to get out of this? “What if Zeke won’t pay your ransom?” I countered.

  “Oh, he will. If there’s one thing I learned researching him, it’s he has a good heart. Even if he’s not in love with you, he’ll still pay because he’s a decent person.”

  Bart said the word decent like it was something dirty and disgusting. “What are you going to do to me?”

  “Well, we’re going to go for a little ride. From my days in Green Valley, I know a place where we can hide out while I make my demands.”

  I held my palms up to him. “Seriously, you don’t have to do this. Just let me call Zeke, and I’ll make the arrangements. You don’t have to take me. Nor would you have to face doing time for kidnapping charges.”

  With a roll of his eyes, Bart replied, “How stupid do you think I am, girlie? The cops would be on my ass in an instant if I let you call Zeke.” He waved the gun at me. “Now start walking.”

  “Finley Anne?” GramBea called from the front of the library.

  Ordinarily I would have felt relieved to hear her voice, but I knew how terribly bad it was that she’d come inside.

  When I didn’t say anything, GramBea called my name again—this time she sounded closer. “Not a fucking word,” Bart growled as he cocked the gun.

  “You don’t understand. She won’t go away until she checks on me,” I whispered.

  “You better make her, or she’ll be in a world of trouble.”

  I blinked back the tears at his insinuation. “Okay. I will.”

  Keeping the g
un pointed on me, Bart dipped behind the door. Through the crack, he could watch both me and anyone else who came up. At the sound of GramBea’s shoes shuffling across the carpet, I swept up a set of papers to try and appear busy and not like I was about to be kidnapped.

  “Well, here you are,” GramBea said. I glanced up to see she appeared relieved, but then her face clouded over. “Finley Anne, why didn’t you answer me when I had Estelle text you?”

  “I’m sorry. I was busy.”

  Tsking, GramBea replied, “You are never too busy to respect your grandmother.” She waved a hand at me. “Come on. The girls are waiting.”

  “No. I’ve decided to stay here. You guys go on without me.”

  GramBea tapped her antique watch. “It’s seven on a Friday night, Ms. Workaholic. You’ve done enough for today. I’m sure whatever it is will wait until tomorrow.” When I opened my mouth to protest, she shook her head. “For as long as I’ve known Naomi, I’m pretty sure she’s not a slave driver.”

  “Regardless of all that, I’m staying.”

  Eyeing me suspiciously, GramBea said, “What’s gotten in to you tonight?”

  A crazed Hells Angels wannabe is about to kidnap me. “Nothing. I just decided I don’t want to go to dinner. Can’t a person change her mind?”

  “Did you have a fight with Zeke?”

  I pinched my eyes shut in agony. “Of course not.”

  “Then why are you changing your mind about dinner?”

  Clenching my fists at my side, I shouted, “Would you just shut up and get out of here? How hard is it to understand I don’t want to go to dinner with you and your old cronies? I have a life, and it doesn’t involve you!”

  My heart ached at the visible hurt my verbal attack caused GramBea. “Fine then. We’ll go without you,” she replied.

  “Good,” I muttered in the most hateful tone I could muster. Regardless of how I said it, I truly meant it. If she was gone, she would be safe. Maybe someday, if I lived through this absurdity, I could make it right. For the moment, I could only focus on the here and now.

  After readjusting her purse, GramBea strode out of the room with her head held high. I don’t think I drew another breath until the sound of her footsteps got farther and farther from the history room. At the sound of the front door swinging shut, Bart grunted. “Jesus, I thought the old bitch would never leave.”