Second Chance

by Audra North

  Okay, maybe not completely 1950s.

  She let out a surprised laugh. “They actually said that?”

  Collin nodded, laughing then, too. “I know. I’m not sure whether to be frustrated or amused or a little afraid, but maybe I’m all three. Never mind, though. I can call someone to come from the city, but it’ll just take a while. Do you mind my imposition for a little longer?”

  “Not at all. In fact, I’ll be finished soon. Why don’t I drive you home?”

  He’d almost kissed her earlier, against the main doors to the library, just before sense had kicked in and made him behave like a gentleman. Half an hour alone in a small space with Marnie? Probably not the best idea. He shook his head. “Thanks, but—”

  “It’s the least I could do. You’ve helped me so much today. Driving you home is no problem.” She had such an earnest, almost pleading look on her face, that he felt bad saying no. Certainly he could keep his thoughts clean for the span of a car ride.

  He raised a brow. “Are you sure?”

  She grinned in response.

  Fuck. He was fucked. The car ride was going to be torture.

  “Positive. Besides, I’d love to hear what you’ve been up to since high school. I’ll just finish putting these away.” She gestured to the cart of books that needed reshelving, “and then we can be on our way.”

  “Do you want some help?”

  She laughed. “I’m sorry. No offense, but I think it will go faster if I just do it. There’s a pretty strict system when it comes to reshelving.” Her eyes twinkled as she looked over at him. “That’s why they call it library science.”

  He smiled. “Fair enough. How about I just follow you around and keep you company, then? Or annoy you. I’m not sure, really.”

  He hadn’t even realized he’d been hoping she tell him that she wanted him around, until she ducked her head a bit and said the words, a bit shyly, “You never annoy me.”

  Damn.

  It made him want her even more.

  He grabbed the cart, grateful for something that could occupy his hands, so he wouldn’t reach out and touch her and likely make a fool of himself. He nodded with his chin, gesturing for her to lead the way, which she did so a bit awkwardly.

  She probably wasn’t used to someone else driving the cart. The thought made his smile even bigger. “So, what made you become a librarian?”

  She looked back at him over her shoulder, and his blood started pumping a bit harder.

  Christ, she was so sexy.

  “You probably don’t remember me in high school, but I was a pretty solitary kid.”

  His eyes dropped to the curves of her hips and bottom, barely outlined by the fluttery skirt she was wearing, so different from the skintight spandex numbers that the women he dated usually wore, and yet it made him hotter than he’d ever been.

  “I remember.” His voice had gone low and guttural, and the only indication that she might have noticed that change was a slight—very slight—stutter in her step as she walked forward.

  She led him to the row between two shelves and helped him guide the cart into the narrow space before pulling a book from the end. She spoke as she searched for its place. “I was alone a lot, growing up, and I found a lot of comfort and escape in books. My mom had tons of them, since she was an English teacher and all, and we would come here on the weekends and get books that would carry me through the week. Do you remember the former librarian?”

  Collin gave a mock shudder. “How could I forget? She hated me.”

  Marnie snorted. “She hated everyone. If there was ever someone less suited to being a librarian than her, I don’t want to meet that person. But she knew everything, and she was a great resource for books, if you knew how to ask exactly the right question.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “I mean, as much as she was curt and unpleasant with actual people, she revered books. If I asked her what she thought I should read, as a thirteen-year-old girl who liked math, she would scoff and point in the general direction of the reference section. But if I came from another direction and asked her which books were worthy of being read, that had this kind of plot, or that kind of characters, she would start waxing lyrical, even going with me to find them.

  “I like the idea of helping other people find their own bit of magic. Books can fill a void and be your best friend, or the sister you never had, or a boyfriend or—”

  “A father.” He couldn’t resist saying it, and Marnie blushed. Shit. Had he overstepped? He’d just wanted her to know that he understood. That even though his family had stuck together, it wasn’t all sunshine and roses, either. He rushed to explain.

  “My mom could probably use books. She misses Ireland a lot. I mean, she likes it here, but everyone is still back there. Her sisters and brothers and all her school friends. She’s the only one. Her father died a few years ago and she went back for the funeral, but after she came home she wouldn’t say a word about it, almost like she was in too much pain from having experienced the reunion in the first place.”

  “Do you miss it, too? Ireland, I mean.”

  He breathed a sigh of relief that she hadn’t chastised him for getting carried away a minute ago. “I don’t remember it well enough now, I guess. Maybe someday, I’ll—”

  Bang!

  A loud, metallic sound reverberated through the library.

  What the hell was that?

  He looked at Marnie, who was pale-faced and shaking, the book in her hand threatening to slip from her fingers.

  He grabbed the book and set it back on the cart. “I’ll go check it out. Stay here.” On impulse, he brushed a kiss on her temple, and it was as though the contact sparked something in her, because she sputtered to life, her cheeks going bright red and endearingly attractive.

  “You don’t have to. I’m sure it was nothing.” She was gripping his arm, her eyes almost imploring, as though she were…hiding something?

  No. He was imagining that. He had to be. She was probably just scared—for herself and for him. His face softened. “Let’s go together. Come on.”

  He took her hand, and for a moment all he could think was This feels right.

  And then he led her out of the stacks.

  Chapter Seven

  There was no doubt in her mind that Bill was the reason for that loud bang. He had to be the least subtle ghost she’d ever known. Not that she’d known any others, but still. What a nuisance.

  Collin paused at the circulation desk, a long, wraparound partition, and let go of her hand. She tried not to sigh in disappointment. It had felt so good to be taken care of, even if it was just the reassurance of a warm, strong grip.

  “I think it came from my office.” She gestured through the doorway and followed him as he strode toward it. They rounded the circulation desk and walked into the office, and what she saw there nearly made her groan in annoyance.

  The bottom drawer of her desk was open, pulled out along its entire length.

  What was Bill up to?

  “Oh, well, that explains it.” She tried to make herself sound casual, like this kind of thing happened all the time, but she was looking all around the room, trying to see if Bill would appear so that she could tell him to cut it out, already. “The box I found in the attic—or, I mean, the archives—is in this drawer. It must have banged against the side when the drawer slid open.”

  She stepped forward and pulled the lovely wooden box out before sliding the drawer shut, snapping it tightly.

  “Okay…” He frowned. “That would explain the banging sound, but how did the drawer slide open, in the first place?”

  “Uh. Maybe I didn’t shut it all the way. I’m not sure. Things here are a little old. Broken. You know.” She knew she was acting strangely, but what if she told Collin about the ghost and he thought she was crazy? Or worse, what if Collin thought she trying to play a stupid prank on him?

  She didn’t think she could bear it if he ended up thinking she was s
ome kind of creep.

  He was still frowning down at the drawer, but before he could ask any other questions, his phone buzzed again, and he pulled it from his pocket to look at the screen.

  “I’m sorry, it’s my assistant. I have to take this.”

  “No problem.” And definitely a relief. Saved by the buzz. She walked out of her office, still carrying the box, as he began speaking.

  “Rebecca. Hi. What’s going on?”

  Ah. So that’s who Rebecca was. Relief washed through her even as she chided herself for eavesdropping. She set the box on the circulation desk, intending to sit there while Collin finished his call in private, but to her surprise, he followed her out of the office, listening to whatever Rebecca was saying on the other end.

  He pulled a chair out for her and gestured for her to sit down, then he leaned against the desk. “I’m not sure when I’ll be back in the city. My car broke down—” He paused for a moment, listening. “Yeah, I know. I was telling Marnie that I just had it serviced.” His eyes flicked to hers, held. His gaze warmed, the air between them heating, as they looked at one another. “She’s the librarian at the Municipal Library. Yeah. Yeah.”

  Had Rebecca asked him anything else about her?

  Collin winked, and she shook off the feeling. But then he straightened, his posture becoming less languid and easygoing, and his face seemed to harden. “Don’t move the site inspection. We’ll have the plans approved by then. De Lorenzo is just playing his usual games, trying to hold out for tickets to the playoffs. I’ll take care of him.”

  He scrubbed a hand over his face, and suddenly looked weary. “I haven’t heard. What happened with the Granger deal?”

  All of his attention was focused on the phone conversation.

  Which happened to be the moment that Bill decided to appear on the other side of the desk, just behind Collin.

  For Heaven’s sake! That ghost was a nuisance. But Marnie couldn’t well tell him to back off without looking like a lunatic.

  Bill waggled his brows at her, almost by way of greeting, and she rolled her eyes, trying to ignore him but worried that he might get up to some kind of mischief that would hurt Collin. She didn’t know Bill very well, after all, and he’d been up to tricks all day.

  Collin was now speaking in a tense voice about schedules and planning committees. Bill pulled a pocket watch out of his vest pocket, and eerily enough, the light actually glinted off the phantom timepiece. He flipped open the case and checked it in exaggerated movements, puffing out his chest and tapping the watch face.

  He was making fun of Collin.

  That raised her hackles. Collin had been nothing but nice to her all day. He didn’t deserve to be mocked by a ghost, of all things. Bill leaned on the counter of the circulation desk, putting his hand close to the back of Collin’s neck, opening and closing his fingers to in the motion of someone talking.

  Marnie scowled at him just as Collin looked over at her. He immediately seemed chagrined, as though he thought she’d been frowning at him.

  She was going to kill Bill.

  Except he was already dead, so that was a bit of an obstacle.

  “Hey, Rebecca, I gotta go. I’ll call in tomorrow and we’ll sort this out.” Collin ended the call. “I’m really sorry, Marnie.”

  She shook her head. “No! I’m sorry. There’s no need for you to apologize. Really, I’m sorry you caught me looking upset. I was thinking about—something else.”

  Bill was doing jazz hands. Jerk. She focused on Collin with laser precision. It probably made her look like she had a staring problem, but she couldn’t let herself get distracted by Bill again.

  Collin slid the phone into his pocket. “Either way, that was rude of me. My assistant knows she can call me any time if there’s a problem, but that doesn’t mean I have to answer.”

  “Oh. Uh. Okay.” She wasn’t sure what else to say, so she changed the subject, hoping she wasn’t coming across as too nosy. “Is everything okay?”

  “Yes.” There was a beat, and then he huffed out a wry laugh. “Well, no. We’re trying to build a shared space development and we’re getting some pushback from the local zoning authorities.”

  “Oh! I didn’t even…I mean, I don’t know what you do. For a living. What’s shared space?”

  Collin pulled out a chair next to her and fell into it. Behind the counter, Bill was pretending to sleep, as though he were implying that the conversation was boring. She turned in her chair, just enough so that Bill was no longer in her direct line of sight.

  “I’m a real estate developer. Mostly housing developments, that kind of thing. But I took a custom project recently from a group of folks who want to build a community living neighborhood. It’s a cluster of houses that surround one large building that’s kind of like a church hall. The big hall has a living room, a huge kitchen, and a couple of half bathrooms, and then the houses around it have just bedrooms, full baths, and a kitchenette. It encourages communal living and saves on energy costs. But the planning commission thinks it’s a bad idea in case they try to resell these places in the future, so they’re using that as an argument to stall the process.”

  “Wow. That sounds pretty cool. I mean, not the part about the stalling, but—” Marnie made the mistake of letting Bill’s movements catch her eye again, and she looked over to see him pretending to play a weeping violin.

  Stop it! She wanted to scream. Collin didn’t deserve that kind of mockery. Maybe Bill had tried to help her with the way her father had treated her this afternoon, but he’d also suggested that she try to kiss Collin. And now he was making fun of him?

  She’d finally met someone who made her feel comfortable in her own skin, who made her think that she might be worth listening to, just for being herself and not because of anything she could do for him. He fit so easily into her life, protecting her, talking to her, and caring about her in small ways that she didn’t even think about, and some asshole of a ghost was making fun of him…

  Oh.

  Oh goodness.

  She liked Collin. Like, liked him. And despite the nearly transparent spirit of a dead man from a century ago, it was that realization—that she didn’t just want to kiss Collin, but to be with him—that scared her.

  Because Collin was handsome and important, while she was average-looking and insignificant. It wasn’t realistic to think anything could come of her attraction to him. It simply wasn’t realistic. He might be sitting here, talking to her now and treating her like she mattered, but it wouldn’t take long before he realized how boring and drab she was.

  And then he’d leave, just like her father had.

  Heck, she was literally going to drive him away from her in just a few more minutes.

  She put her hand on the surface of the box, pressing against the bumps and ridges of the carved surface. “The actual development sounds like a fantastic idea. I hope it works out for you, too. But even if it doesn’t go though, it sounds like you’re a really busy man. There’ll be other projects, right?”

  He shrugged. “I am busy, I guess. Lately, though, I’ve been feeling like I’m a fool for being so occupied in things that matter less and less. That’s why I want this development to work. I feel like, for the first time, I’d be doing something that’s about community. Family and togetherness and building a real life. Not just making money or superficial connections.”

  He sighed, and it nearly killed her not to reach out and comfort him, but she held herself in check. If she touched him, she’d end up making a fool of herself. She knew it. So instead, she stood up and took half a step away from the desk, starting to move toward the office to get her jacket and keys. “We should probably head out. I’d hate to take up any more of your time.”

  Behind Collin, Bill gave her an angry look.

  What was that about?

  He’d just been making fun of Collin and now he was angry that she was getting Collin out of here? Why was he being so confusing?

  I guess me
n are the same no matter which century they’re from.

  Collin stood up, too, but instead of agreeing and grabbing his things, he shook his head and took a step toward her. Before he could get a single word out, though, Bill disappeared with a loud, popping sound.

  And then the lights cut out.

  Caught by surprise, Marnie stumbled forward, pitching directly into Collin’s arms, which tightened around her, hugging her to his hard chest.

  Oh, wow. Oh. Warm, solid…she could spend forever in these arms.

  She felt his breath catch against her body, and before she knew it, his lips were on hers.

  Chapter Eight

  He’d managed to confuse her.

  Collin nearly laughed, but that would mean pulling his lips away from Marnie’s, and he definitely didn’t want to do that. He’d never kissed a woman who made him so hot. He could feel her debating whether or not to keep kissing him, and for some strange reason, he found he actually liked her internal debate. The women he usually kissed were often so eager that there was nothing to work toward. No anticipation.

  Except…if she decided she didn’t want to keep kissing him, he’d be a jerk if he continued doing it. So he gentled the kiss and brushed his mouth over hers, lightly…a ghost of a touch. She pulled back, eyes shining even in the moonlit darkness of the library, and sighed, “Oh, wow. Collin.”

  It seemed like she was okay with the kissing, after all.

  He really did laugh this time, leaning his forehead against hers.

  “This place seems to be the perfect setting for the ghost story you told earlier. Mysterious bumps in the floor, drawers sliding open, rats in the attic, lights going out…”

  But this close, he could see that she wasn’t joining in his laughter. In fact, her face contorted in something like fear, and he immediately backed up. “Oh God. Marnie, I was just joking. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you. In fact, I’ll send a guy out to come check the foundation and wiring. I’m sure it can be fixed with just a little once-over.”