by Jacie Floyd
“Once the renovations are done, it’ll be all yours.”
“I can’t believe I’ll have my own garage.” She practically shivered with delight over a structure Zach would classify as only slightly more substantial than a chicken coop.
“It’ll protect your nice car from bad weather.”
“It’s fabulous.” She followed his lead as they cut through Rachel’s yard and stopped at the back stoop. “I guess your sister said she didn’t mind if I use her house.”
“She’s fine with it.”
“Just like that?” Harper raised an eyebrow. “She’s willing to let a complete stranger stay at her place with no questions asked?”
“She asked plenty of questions and said I’d owe her big time. But in the end, she agreed.”
“What if I steal her jewelry and trash her furniture?”
“We’ll bill the library grant for any damage and get reimbursed by Big Bucks Berkman. But if you think Rachel has any jewelry worth stealing or any furniture you could harm in anyway short of setting it on fire, you really are going to be disappointed.”
Giving him an inscrutable look, she nodded toward the door. “Do you have a key or is it unlocked?”
“There’s a key you can use while you’re staying here, if it will make you feel better. But Rachel leaves it unlocked. If you hear someone rummaging around the kitchen in the morning, it will probably be our neighbor coming to feed the cat.” When she looked suspicious, he added, “Just one cat. Honest. But it’s a pretty ornery one.”
Pushing open the back door, he stepped into the kitchen, which was a work in progress. His sister had been refinishing the upper cabinets before she left. The doors were lined up against a wall, exposing dishes and canned goods on the open shelves. “I should have warned you about the mess. She’s fixing the place up but doesn’t have much spare time. Or money.”
Harper gazed around the room. “She’s doing an amazing job.”
“The main bedroom is through there.” As he turned to lead the way, he spotted Rachel’s Siamese, Cleo, draped in her favorite spot across the back of the chair in the front window. The animal would only deign to approach him when she was damn good and ready. “The house has four rooms on this level with two rooms up. Rachel said to sleep wherever you like, but her bedroom on this floor is the best bet. You’ll find clean sheets in the linen closet across from the bathroom, right through there.”
“Speaking of bathrooms... Excuse me for a minute.”
The second Harper exited, the cat haughtily approached Zach, pretending indifference. Zach checked out Cleo’s bowls. “Don’t look at me to feed you. Your bowls are full, so Kate’s already been here today.”
Ignoring the Siamese’s beseeching expression, Zach turned to check the food situation for humans. Rachel had mentioned there wouldn’t be anything more interesting than Fancy Feast in her cabinets and milk in her fridge, and she hadn’t been kidding. But he doubted if Harper would do much cooking anyway. She didn’t even look as domesticated as the cat. He hoped she wouldn’t mind stopping for pizza after they toured the library. Not many restaurants open on Sunday night.
When Harper approached him from behind, he scooped up the Siamese. Turning with Cleo in his arms, he caught his breath at the sight of the woman in front of him.
The main reason he kept mentally trying to think of Harper as someone who would look down on him and the town was so he could put her in a neat little isolated mental box and pretend he didn’t like her or want her. Pretend he didn’t desire her.
But that was a million miles from the truth.
He just couldn’t picture himself as the kind of guy who would wine her, dine her, bed her, and leave her in pretty short order.
So far, she’d been great through everything he’d thrown at her and came back for more, giving as good as she got and looking incredible. While she’d been in the bathroom, she’d done something to her hair that temporarily straightened it. She’d applied lip gloss that made him want to slick his tongue right over it. And she’d removed her fancy footwear for flatter sandals that an ordinary person could walk around in. She looked a lot shorter, but that didn’t take a thing away from the shape of her legs or overall knockout body. She still appeared extremely doable, and he still wanted to reach out and do her. Worst luck.
As expected, the cat hissed at the stranger in her domain, and Zach reassured her with a leisurely stroke of his hand on her back. “Meet Cleo. She thinks she owns the place and begrudgingly allows Rachel to live here. She’s really the one we should have checked with before I let you in. It’s a good thing you got a chance to meet her before she attacks you in your sleep.”
“Thanks for the warning. I’m sure we’ll get along just fine.”
Harper and Cleo had a bit of a stare down, and Zach would’ve been hard pressed to say who had won.
“She’s been declawed, so the pain would be minimal, but I’ll close her into whichever bedroom you don’t use.” He set her on the floor to roam at will until the decision was made.
“All right. I may as well decide on a bed right now. Want to show me the choices?” That eager, curious expression seemed like second nature to her.
“I sure do.” He mentally winced and hoped his friendly, helpful, professional smile successfully masked the suggestive leer he was close to displaying. “Let me finish showing you through the house, then we’ll head over to the library.”
Swallowing back any comment that would reveal his true feelings about leading Harper to a bedroom, he ushered her down the hall to Rachel’s room. Harper stuck her head in the door and peered around at the handcrafted furniture his sister had designed and had their dad build to fit the room. The simple lines of the dark pieces turned the space from a bedroom into a retreat that was his sister’s pride and joy. Rachel’s style and preferences were written all over it.
“Where’s the other one?” She retreated without lingering. “Upstairs, right?”
“Careful on the stairs. They’re steep, and Rachel mentioned the banister was loose the other day. I’ll stop by in the morning and take care of it.”
Harper headed up the stairs as he followed, which afforded him an excellent view of her ass, but he couldn’t shake a small feeling of annoyance. He didn’t care if she rejected Rachel’s room. But if the nicest space in the house didn’t appeal to her, she sure wouldn’t like the much shabbier guest room either.
So when she stepped from the landing into the room, Zach braced himself for haughty disapproval. The warm, simple furnishings—the four-poster that had been their grandmother’s, the dresser that had been Rachel’s since childhood, and the rocking chair that had been their mother’s—were nothing fancy. Nothing that would seem special to someone else, but all things his sister had repurposed and cherished.
Rushing into the room with a gasp, she smiled and a twirled. “This is amazing. It reminds me of my room at my grandmother’s house. So normal, so real, so...authentic.”
“Sure.” Zach rubbed the back of his neck and looked around. “If by normal you mean ‘used’ and by ‘authentic’ you mean ‘old-fashioned’. Around here, we just call it secondhand. I thought you’d like something more, uh, modern.”
“There’s a lot of history here, I’ll bet.” She spoke in the hushed voice that most people reserved for sacred or educational places, like churches, or museums...or, um, libraries.
“Several generations at least.” He pictured the women in his family… how they’d acquired each piece of furniture and cared for it well enough to pass it along to the one who came next. That’s just what family did.
Harper sure seemed pleased about it. Her dark eyes lit up with pleasure again. She’d shifted from the high-fashion creature driving a flashy car into an enchanting sprite splashing down in a simpler world.
And he’d love to be the one to escort her into that new world with a better welcome than he’d shown her so far. He’d like to be the one to kiss her hello. And good morning. And good ni
ght.
Her wide generous mouth was about as kissable as any he’d seen. And if fixating on her mouth didn’t indicate he was several months past getting laid and getting hornier by the minute, he didn’t know how else to explain these bone-deep, compelling feelings of desire for her.
‘Cause with all the matchmakers they had in this town, he’d employed plenty of subterfuge to keep everyone from linking him up with their daughters, nieces, sisters, or cousins. And he wasn’t going to do anything to make any of them think he might finally be interested in interviewing life-partner candidates now. Not when he had one foot almost out the door and across the state line.
He was staring at her. He knew it, too. Fascinated as she took a turn about the room from the dresser to the window to the rocker, exclaiming over every little thing. Her delight spilled out in a giggle as she rocked the chair back and forth before turning to the bed.
Backing up to it, she dropped her butt on the edge of the mattress, bouncing a few times to test the firmness, then twisting around to stretch out and examine an embroidered pillow sham. As he glued his shoulder to the doorframe, refusing to advance into the room and really put that old four-poster to use, she smiled at him over her shoulder and created an intimacy that sizzled like lightning in a heat storm.
Occupying the same room with Harper and a bed didn’t seem like a good way to clear his head of thoughts of her on that bed. Naked. He had to get her out of there before he tumbled her full-length against the mattress and had her screaming in ecstasy or simply screaming and running back to Chicago before she’d had so much as a glimpse of the library.
He cleared his throat and erased the X-rated images that mocked him. “So, I guess you’re fine about staying here.”
“Ecstatic.” Her eyes glowed with pleasure.
“Great.” He forced himself to straighten away from the door and turn his back on her. “Next stop’s the library. Let’s see if you’re, uh, ecstatic about that, too.”
God, he hoped not. Much more of her ecstasy and he’d be lost in a hypothalamic fog.
Man, did he need to get out of town and get laid soon.
Chapter Four
Harper followed Zach down the stairs and out the door of his sister’s house. The unbelievable place was exactly the way she would want a house to look if she had a chance to buy one. Exactly the way she wanted her temporary home to look after she moved in and put her stamp on it.
She wanted to put her stamp on the town, too. But so far, she’d struck-out in that department. Five of the six people she’d met that day didn’t seem to like her all that much, including three children. And Zach seemed to be on the fence.
Which was a mystery to Harper.
Her mother and sister may be considered the beauties in her family, but everyone she’d previously met in her life—from guidance counselors to head librarians to apartment building superintendents—had pegged her as likable, friendly, and enthusiastic. Almost the human equivalent of a cocker spaniel.
Gregarious overachiever had been her lifelong role within the family dynamics, too. Her mother and Fiona were drama queens from the get-go. Out of necessity, Harper had learned how to take stock of a situation, smooth things over, and make everyone happy—with the possible exception of her former fiancé.
But this guy.
Sheesh, except for that whole saving-the-dog exercise, he seemed laid back to the point of comatose. Detached. Unflappable. He clearly had a lot going in the brains department, and sometimes, for the teeniest flash of a moment, he even seemed attracted to her. Like that one distinct moment when she’d climbed out of her car, and maybe another one when she’d asked to see the bedrooms. But he also seemed to find her a little bit annoying.
As they headed down the street, she side-eyed Zach and had to admit he looked perfect in every way. Maybe a little too perfect. Perfect enough to be a doctor. Most people admired doctors on general principle, but Harper suppressed a shiver of distaste. Sure, being a physician was a noble calling and almost everyone either wanted their kids to be one or marry one. But the medical doctors she knew were stuffy, opinionated, and completely full of themselves.
Or maybe that was just her father. Sometimes, she found it difficult to disassociate the man from his profession.
Until Zach had revealed his occupation, she’d been confused by the contradictory vibes she picked up from him. But now, she understood his personality better. His responses revealed similarities to her father’s Doctor/God Complex. In charge of everyone and everything in their universe. Lesser mortals dare not orbit too closely. They might manage to be present for the grand gestures, big moments, or overall miracles, but couldn’t be bothered with the day-to-day details that could be handled by others.
Okay, message received. But too bad. If Zach hadn’t been a doctor, they might have become friends. Or more. She cast another quick glance his way in time to see that he was watching her and weighing his opinions. Apparently waiting for something before he passed his final judgment. But waiting for what?
Waiting for her to judge him and the town and find them lacking, maybe. Waiting to see if she’d blithely trip on back home as soon as the going here got tough.
Boy, was he wrong about that. She’d do whatever it took to make this work. She’d never wanted anything more.
With another plunge into record-breaking heat and humidity, Harper’s hair threatened to frizz up again like Little Orphan Annie’s. As she tugged on the ends, Zach moved with purposeful strides beside her and resumed his assignment as Official Town Greeter.
He related facts and tidbits about the town, pointing out landmarks. Apparently, the library was a total of three blocks from her house. Three short blocks, not three long city blocks like in New York or Chicago. She could walk to work each day in no time flat.
“Did you read the library’s history before you applied for the Berkman Grant?” They skirted a statue in the park that surrounded the building.
“Absolutely.” Excitement thrummed through her with each step, thrilled to finally see firsthand the project she’d accepted.
“Do you know about the Carnegie lampposts installed at the front entrance to most of his libraries?”
“Of course. Carnegie considered them a symbol of enlightenment. I am a librarian, you know. I research things,” she said when he raised his eyebrows in surprise. “I’m glad the town managed to keep this one despite the recent hard times. A lot of the lampposts disappeared before some communities recognized their value.”
“It was a close call, but the Historical Society managed to get ours protected by the National Registry before it was demolished.”
And if it hadn’t been for young techno-bazillionaire Andrew Berkman, the library and the lamppost would have both been lost. As with many small towns, the Sunnyside tax base hadn’t been able to keep the library afloat. After years of operating over budget, the town had to quit funding it when other public necessities took precedence.
But Andrew Berkman, who had more money than God also had a special fondness for small-town libraries. Nationwide, he set up grants to refurbish and revitalize struggling or failed ones. Based on the original Carnegie formula of public participation, he planned to reopen facilities in twenty towns that could prove their need. The former Sunnyside head librarian had filled out Sunnyside’s proposal. By some stroke of freaky fate and amazing good fortune, the town had managed to receive one of the grants.
In a dream-come-true moment for Harper, who had been following the process out of curiosity and admiration for Andrew Berkman’s philanthropy, she’d applied for the job closest to Chicago on a whim. Two months ago, out of a pool of hundreds of applicants for the twenty libraries, she’d been honored and thrilled to be chosen as the project leader at the Sunnyside library. At thirty, she was the youngest librarian selected for the project. She was up to the task but had a lot to prove.
And here she was, standing at the entrance of this gem in the rough, waiting as Zach unlocked the front
door by the light of the Carnegie lamppost. As bedraggled as the exterior of the stately old building appeared, its flaws were all cosmetic and caused by a lack of upkeep. Hopefully, the same could be said for the interior. At least they kept this door locked.
Zach pushed open the heavy door and motioned her in ahead of him with a little ceremonial bow. “After you.”
Stepping eagerly inside the grand entry, she waited for him to hit the lights. When the bright beams illuminated the entry and beyond, the breath whooshed out of her in shock.
Blinking twice, she couldn’t immediately grasp the sight in front of her. The deplorable condition of the interior didn’t match the simple neglect of the exterior. Worse. Far worse. Massive devastation loomed everywhere and looked almost intentional. But who could be so conscienceless? And why? “Freaking hell! What happened here?”
“Damn!” Zach stepped in front of her as if there might be potential harm lurking in the chaos before adding a few swear words of his own. “What is this mess?”
“What—how—who—?” Harper sputtered in search of the right words. With hands on her hips, she surveyed the damage that had occurred in a formerly magnificent space. She could barely contain her distress. And disappointment. If crying would help, she would have burst into tears.
“I don’t know how this happened.” Rigid with anger, Zach and his previous unflappability shattered. “But I’ll damn sure find out.”
“If the other locks in town are as unsuccessful as this one, no wonder they aren’t used.” The snarky comment emerged from her mouth unplanned. Sarcasm was a common fallback position for her. “They pretty much suck at keeping vandals out, don’t they?”
Even though Harper had tried to reel in her expectations, she could never have prepared herself for what looked like a sick joke. Like a Dante’s Inferno depiction of a librarian’s worst nightmare—the destruction of a public library.
