Slow and Steady 1

by J. H. Croix

  Downside to my endless love of books: I wanted to read so many that I often had to pace myself. Upside to working at the library: I could read to my heart’s content as long as I managed to get my job done. Satisfied I would get to it soon enough, I started to put away the remainder of the donated books. Using my toe to nudge the box along as I went, I was about halfway through when movement in the reading section at the end of the row caught my eye.

  A man dropped to his haunches in front of the local history section, his index finger trailing the spines of the books before he started perusing a section of newspapers. The Cypress Creek Public Library had been modernized, and we had electronic copies of the local newspapers. Yet, we kept noteworthy, more recent editions from the last few years in paper form.

  I couldn’t say precisely why at first, but he snagged my attention. My eyes soaked him up. He was a tall, fit man, but there was an almost graceful way to his movement. Jet black hair curled slightly at the ends, brushing the neckline of a fitted blue t-shirt. The fabric stretched between his shoulder blades, showing off strong, muscled shoulders. His black jeans hugged his legs like a lover. Every inch of this man was pure muscle, and my fingers tingled, itching to touch him.

  Flushing at my errant thought, I gave my head a shake as he turned to the shelf beside him and continued his search. For the first time, I could see his face—if only in profile.

  Damn. The man was Sonny Lovett. I promptly tried to order my body to behave, but my body appeared to have a mind of its own. Sweet heat slid through my veins, and my curiosity amped up a notch.

  Sonny was not the kind of man girls like me should even bother to daydream about. Not if we wanted to remain sane.

  Men like him didn’t mix with women like me. Even daydreaming was futile.

  I didn’t know him personally, but I knew of him. Everyone did. He and his brothers were local celebrities because of their father.

  Before his father’s arrest, the Lovetts were one of those families revered in Cypress Creek and beyond. Old money, old roots, a name or presence on every council and committee, and moreover, there were five Lovett brothers.

  Five obscenely handsome brothers—all tall, all drool-worthy, and all talented at one thing or another. How could you not know about them?

  Plus, I had an added link to them. The same oncologist in Savannah had treated our mothers when they were respectively diagnosed with cancer. I’d never spoken to any of the brothers, but I remembered seeing them around the hospital every once in a while when we were younger. My heart gave a thump of grief. I still missed my mom. I wondered what it had been like for the boys to lose their mother. They’d seemed to be a close family, and I imagined it had hurt.

  Then, their father became the town’s most high-profile criminal making the well-known family infamous. They fell from grace in rather spectacular fashion, the local news eating up their father’s story like candy. While the boys all remained in Cypress Creek and were restoring their family name little by little in their own ways, it was still sad what happened to them.

  I realized I was simply standing in the aisle staring at Sonny. With a shake, I forced myself to carry on as I would with any other customer here. I passed him by looking for the home of the next book in the box. He moved on to another shelf, but he didn’t say anything to me, didn’t even look at me. Not that I expected him to say anything.

  A faint masculine cologne scent hung in the air as I shelved the book near where he’d been rummaging. A crisp scent with a hint of the ocean. Dear God, even his cologne set my pulse to thrumming.

  I nearly snorted when I realized the direction my thoughts had taken. They kept circling back to him, while heat bloomed from my core.

  Rolling my eyes at myself, I bent to scoop out the next book from the box when a throat cleared behind me. I jumped, straightening up so quickly my head spun a little.

  “Excuse me, dear?”

  Definitely not Sonny speaking to me, then.

  I whirled around toward the decidedly female voice and saw an elderly lady waiting for my attention. She wasn’t the same woman as the one from before, but she wore a similar cardigan with a string of pearls around her neck.

  She pushed her round glasses up on her nose, blinking at me. “Are you the librarian?”

  I coughed, a sudden tickle in my throat. “I—Yes. I mean, I am. What can I help you with?”

  The lady gave me a relieved smile, her hand going to the pearls around her neck as if she was self-conscious. “Marge told me to find you.”

  “Marge?” I wracked my brain, trying to remember who Marge was. I was usually good with names, but I came up empty.

  “My friend. She was in a few days ago. You helped her find a romance novel she was looking for,” she explained patiently, alert green eyes on mine.

  “Ah. Yes. I remember her now.” A smile touched my lips at the memory of the sweet older woman who’d been so shy to ask about the book that reminded her of her husband. “Are you looking for a book by the same author?”

  The lady nodded, fingers twirling around the pearls. “I don’t have a specific one in mind. I was hoping you could help me with that.”

  “Of course.” I edged the box up against the shelf to make sure no one would trip over it and swept my hand out in the direction of the romantic fiction section. “Follow me.”

  “Thanks, honey. I’m just having so much trouble finding a good book to read. My son got me one of those little e-reader things last Christmas, but you shouldn’t have to charge a book. Marge said you’d understand.”

  Smiling at her emphatic tone, I showed her to the shelf where her friend found her book. “I do understand. Let’s see if we can get you set up with a few books from here.”

  “This one looks interesting.” She plucked a bodice-ripper from the display I’d created on top of the shelf. Describing it as looking interesting was a little bit of a reach, but I had to give it to her, it did look hot.

  The man on the cover was gorgeous. Actually, he looked a lot like—I forced my thoughts to a screeching halt in my mind. No, I wasn’t going there. He does not look like Sonny Lovett.

  He had pitch black hair, like a certain someone, with broad shoulders and a muscled back. I didn’t know when I’d ever been turned on by a man’s back, but somehow, I imagined Sonny’s would do the trick. With a smoldering glance at the equally gorgeous woman on the cover, the man was crawling over her on a bed covered in red silk.

  The lady turned the book over, fanning herself as she read its back cover. “Yes, I think I will take this one.”

  “Excellent. You’re welcome to search for more you might like. Let me know when you’re done, and I’ll help you carry everything.”

  Cheeks pink as she blushed, she nodded and ducked her head, grabbing another book from the display. I wished I could get women to stop being shy about what they liked to read. Why they felt they had to get so flustered asking for a good, old-fashioned, yet sexy love story was beyond me.

  I wasn’t exactly what one would call sexually forward or bold. I simply refused to apologize for enjoying what I liked to read.

  By the time I made it back to the donation box, Sonny was at one of the tables with papers sprawled out all over it. His brow was furrowed in concentration as he read. A ray of light streaming in through one of the windows hit him just so, glinting off of his dark hair.

  If only I could draw. He would’ve made the perfect subject. But I couldn’t draw. What I could do, and had to do seeing as how he was a customer, was to see if he needed anything.

  Taking a deep breath, I worked up the nerve to go speak to him, but before I could move, a hand closed around my bicep. “Excuse me, miss. May I speak to you for a minute?”

  “Sure.” I turned to find a man in a gray suit and stern expression peering down at me. He was tall, graying, and might as well have had “Authority” stamped on his forehead. “How can I help you?” I asked. I couldn’t say why, but unease rolled through me.

 
The man reached into his pocket and took out a worn leather cardholder. Flipping it open, he flashed it at me only just long enough for me to read his name on a plastic identification card and see a metal badge stitched into the fabric.

  Wayne Maclin. I stuck my suddenly clammy hand out. “I’m Niki Holmes, the librarian here. If you’re looking for a book on law enforcement, I can—”

  His mouth turned up into a wry smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “I’m not looking for a book on law enforcement. Is there somewhere we can talk?”

  “I don’t have an office, but there’s a private reading room over there.” I pointed to a room near the check-out desk. “It’s usually used by students working on group assignments, or that kind of thing, but it’s empty now.”

  “That will be fine.” He marched ahead to the room where I gestured, and I hurried to catch up to him. Closing the door behind us, I felt as if I’d been called into the principal’s office. Which was ridiculous, seeing I was years past school, and I was the one who worked here. Not this man.

  I’d never gotten into any trouble, at school or otherwise, so I couldn’t say I was familiar with the feeling. Yet, I felt as if I were under a microscope and wanted to shake the sensation away. “What did you say this was about?” I asked.

  “I didn’t,” he replied. He pulled out one of the reading chairs and sat down, folding his hands in front of him on the table. Clearly, he was a lot more comfortable than I was. “Have a seat.”

  “Thank you,” I muttered, though I didn’t know why. This was my place of work, not his office. I didn’t need an invitation to sit, but I did as he asked anyway.

  “That man out there, do you know who he is?”

  My eyes narrowed in confusion. “Sonny Lovett?”

  “That’s the one.” He nodded briskly. “Has he been in here before?”

  “No. This is the first time I’ve seen him here.”

  “I see.” He studied me like he was trying to ascertain if I was lying. My sense of unease deepened as his gaze scanned over me. He’d flashed his badge to me so fast I hadn’t been able to see all of his details, but I managed to make out he worked for Internal Affairs.

  Straightening, I clasped my hands together in my lap. “Is he in some kind of trouble?”

  “That’s none of your concern,” he said dismissively. “Do you know what he’s reading about?”

  “No, I was busy with another customer. It’s a public library, Mr. Maclin. People come here to read all the time. That’s basically the entire purpose of a library. I’m not privy to what they read, or why they’ve come here.”

  Sighing, he crossed his arms. “Yes, but it never hurts to ask.”

  “You’ve asked.” I mirrored his movements, crossing my arms over my chest. I didn’t want to answer any more of his questions. “Is there anything else I can do for you?”

  “No, that’s it for now.” He pushed back from the table and walked to the door, pausing as he opened it. “I’ll be around, Ms. Holmes. Until we speak again.”

  With a swift nod, he was out the door. I gaped after him, watching his back as he strode away.

  “Asshole,” I mumbled.

  Eager to put the conversation behind me, I headed back out into the library. Squaring my shoulders, I gathered my courage again and walked straight to the table where Sonny had been sitting. My curiosity was growing with each passing second as to why the man had been looking for Sonny.

  Determined to tell him someone was looking for him, I rounded the corner, stopping short when I saw the table was empty. He must’ve left while I was talking to that jerk. So much for warning him about the fact some guy was following him around town asking questions about him. “Crap.”

  Chapter Five

  Sonny

  “Zach? It’s me. You’re off work today too, right?” I pressed my phone to my ear, jogging down the steps of the library.

  My friend turned the music down at his end of the line. “Yeah. What’s up?”

  What was up was Wayne Maclin. What the hell did he want? As soon as I saw him step foot into the library, I knew it was time for me to make myself scarce.

  “Want to meet me at the bar in fifteen?” I didn’t have to specify which bar. Zach and I frequented a small place a few minutes outside of town. The beer was cold and cheap, and we could be assured of privacy there.

  Although I had nothing to hide, it didn’t mean I wanted to be surrounded by ears perked for gossip. Getting just outside of town tamped down the chances of that. A hazard of small-town living was the way gossip could spread like a brush fire once it started.

  Zach and I preferred to avoid it when we could. He had his reasons, just like I had mine.

  “Sure thing. See you then.”

  “Later.” I stuffed my phone in my back pocket and pulled out my keys, unlocking my truck.

  Warm air hit me in the face as I got into the cab. Blasting the air conditioner, along with the radio, I started the engine and prayed it would cool down soon as I pulled out of the parking lot.

  Driving through town and beyond it, I watched the Spanish moss sway in the breeze as it hung from the trees lining the town’s streets. Navigating the quiet drive allowed my thoughts to drift.

  It was too bad Wayne showed up when he did. The woman working at the library had caught my eye. I had no interest in following in Jeremy’s footsteps by getting serious, but a beautiful girl, some good conversation followed by a better night, or afternoon, together? I was down for that.

  Niki someone, I thought that was the librarian’s name. I knew I’d seen her around town in passing before, but this was the first time I really noticed her. Her beauty was subtle and low key. She was quiet enough, and she didn’t stand out. She was next-door-girl kind of hot—the kind you didn’t notice for too damn long and then when you finally did, you couldn’t look away.

  Though she was tall and slim, curves teased under her clothes. I hadn’t missed the shadowed valley between her breasts when I happened to glance up as she was leaning over to pull books out of a box. Nor had I missed the glimpse of cream silk caressing the lush curve of her breast.

  Her sky blue eyes were framed with long lashes, and her amber hair had been twisted into a braid that hung down almost all the way to her pert ass. I’d love to see all that hair set loose. Her features were striking—sculpted cheekbones, fine arched brows and wide eyes. Her full, lush lips softened her sharp features.

  There was a hint of whimsy to her with a silk ribbon tying off the end of her braid, belying her otherwise unremarkable presentation in slacks and a simple cream blouse.

  Just recalling her had my body tightening in anticipation and my cock twitching.

  You need to get laid, dude. Yeah, that’s all this is.

  I tended to keep things casual, yet lately, I hadn’t even found time for that. Maybe I needed to make more of an effort.

  Though Niki had most definitely caught my eye, I doubted casual was up her alley. She didn’t strike me as the type.

  Even though I didn’t want more than casual, I also wasn’t up for seeking out those passing interactions.

  Kicking my thoughts to the curb as I pulled into the gravel parking lot outside the bar, I shut off the truck and went inside. The bartender greeted me when I walked in, a guy of indeterminate age I knew only as Bob.

  “What’s up, man? The usual?” He jerked his head toward the tap mounted on the bar.

  I nodded. “Two please.”

  Reaching for two beer glasses, he shot me a thumb up with his free hand. “Coming right up.”

  “Thanks.” I leaned against the scuffed wooden bar, wondering how Zach was going to react to finding out Maclin was sniffing around again.

  Wayne Maclin headed up the Internal Affair Department at our station. Maclin didn’t care much for either of us. It was fair to say the feeling was mutual. Zach was what Chief Harris referred to as a loose cannon. He was stuck in the evidence room for now because of some stuff that went down in the field a whil
e back involving a property developer a few towns over. I’d yet to get a straight story on what went down, but Zach had gotten heated in an interaction with the guy and had been buried in the evidence room since then.

  Internal Affairs, or Maclin rather, was investigating Zach for being a dirty cop. I’d known Zach a long time. He went to school with my brother. I knew he wasn’t dirty. Maclin had some kind of vendetta against him, and he was like a dog with a bone.

  If either one of them were dirty, I would pick Maclin any day of the week. The guy gave off some seriously shady vibes sometimes.

  As for me, Maclin and I weren’t the best of friends. He was one of those people who believed the sins of the father should be extended to the son. Ever since my father’s trial and conviction, Maclin refused to trust me. There were a few people in the department who shared his point of view, but Maclin was leading the charge, so it didn’t really matter.

  If we were living in the Wild West and he was the Sheriff, he would have run my brothers and me—Tyson included—out of town, alongside the van transporting our father to the Cypress Creek Penitentiary.

  The doors of the bar creaked, and I glanced over my shoulder to see Zach striding toward me. He grinned, his sandy hair damp and his brown eyes crinkling at the corners with his smile. “What’s going on, Lovett? Why the sudden meet up?”

  “No reason.” I shrugged, nodding my thanks to Bob as he slid our beers over to us. “Want to grab a seat?”

  Zach eyed Bob and nodded, picking up his beer and carrying it to an empty table. “What’s really going on?” he asked, his gaze sobering.

  “Can’t a guy call a friend for a beer on their day off?”

  Taking a long sip of his beer, Zach shook his head. “Not in the tone of voice you had when you called.”

  “Fine.” He had a point. “You got me. I didn’t just want a beer.”

  “Imagine that,” Zach muttered, smirking around the rim of his glass.

  I rolled my eyes and took a sip of my beer.