“That’s so much work. Adding an egg, oil, and water seems so much easier.” She’s right. It is. But easy isn’t always the best path in life. Of course, I rein in the philosophizing. I’ll save that for another day.
As we stand in their modest kitchen, I grow nervous. I’ve been out with Nathan and his girls in the last week, but I haven’t been to his home. Not like this. It seems intimate and cozy, like we’re a family, baking together, and I wonder what he’ll think when he walks in.
“Smells good in here,” he announces as he enters his front door and makes his way to the kitchen. His eyes instantly fall to Dahlia and Clem with textbooks open on the kitchen table. “What the heck is this? Dahlia, are you doing your homework? It’s a miracle.” He good-naturedly teases his oldest who blushes as he walks over to Clem, kissing her on the top of her head.
He turns toward the counter where I’m leaning.
Turns away.
Turns back.
“Nae,” he chokes, his voice groggy. He takes in my hair, piled up on my head and roams down my body, drinking in my long sweater and hip-hugging jeans. “You look hot.”
His shock is one of pleasure, but it’s a look that has me all tingly inside. Not to mention he just complimented me in front of his children. With one quick step forward, he cages me in against the counter. Leaning toward me, I want him to kiss me, but his girls are right behind him, although they can no longer see me with his large body blocking their view.
“I don’t think you should kiss me,” I quietly say, trying to look over his shoulder. He scowls.
“Why not?” he whispers. I want the girls to accept me, not think I’m another woman who will leave their father or want to replace their mothers. It’s going to take time. I’m in no rush.
I run a hand down his chest, shrugging in response to his question. He knows I won’t talk about this with the girls so close, but I notice his heart racing inside his jacket. He leans closer.
“Ew, are you going to kiss?” Dahlia asks behind him in her best tone of teenage disgust. I briefly wonder if she’s kissed a boy yet. If she wants to go out with someone.
Will she be wild and reckless and fall in love?
A kitchen chair scrapes across the tile floor as Dahlia announces, “I’m leaving.”
“See,” I breathe cocking an eyebrow. Dahlia is being polite and cautious with me, but she isn’t ready to witness something more between Nathan and me.
“Kiss her already, Daddy,” Clementine giggles, encouraging her father. Little instigator. I shake my head as I lower it into Nathan’s chest. A laptop snaps shut, and I sense Clem leave the room too.
“See,” Nathan teases, into my hair. I lift my head, and he closes the distance between us with a soft kiss. Nothing overly sexual. Nothing suggestive. But I want to be sexual and suggestive and just everything in between with him. He pulls back quickly, but my eyes remain closed a second longer.
“This is a nice surprise and you look amazing,” he says. “But you know I’d take you wearing anything. Although I prefer you wearing nothing.”
“Nathan!” I admonish, twisting my head, hoping the girls can’t hear his voice down the hall. He catches my hand swatting at his chest and brings it to his lips.
“You always look beautiful, but you look especially lovely in my kitchen. I love having you here.” He leans forward again and rests his forehead on mine.
“I love being here,” I reply, my voice quiet but filled with honest pleasure.
“I love you, Naomi.”
What? My breath hitches as he pulls back to see me better.
“What?” The word is a whisper while my fingers lift to cover my lips.
“I said, I love you. I love you being with me, with my girls, and I want it all the time because I want you. I love you.”
My face breaks into the biggest smile, like, the biggest, like, I’m not certain I’ve ever smiled so big before. I sound like Dahlia with all my likes.
“I love you, too.” I tip up on my toes and press into him, gripping the edge of his open jacket. He meets me halfway and kisses me again, holding nothing back with this kiss. His arms loop around me, tugging me into him with one hand on my head and another on my lower back. We can’t get close enough, and yet I remind myself we’re standing in his kitchen.
“You finally bring home nice girl,” Emma Rae says with her lilting accent, and I rip my lips from Nathan. Blinking up at him in confusion, he winks, and I lower my head again into his chest, mortified at being caught by his mother. “Now you marry this one.”
“Ma,” Nathan drags out.
Could the floor just open and swallow me whole? Suddenly I’m overly warm in my sweater, although I’m certain I’m not having a hot flash. It’s the heat of Nathan and the embarrassment of his mother’s suggestion. Nathan hasn’t released me, and I don’t know whether to be thankful or further horrified.
“What?” she draws out. “You kiss the girl, you marry the girl. At least, she’s a good one.”
I chuckle as I roll my head against his pec.
“She is a good one, Ma,” Nathan assures his mother as he cups my chin and forces me to look at him. “And I plan to marry her. Someday. Soon-ish.”
It’s on a Tuesday we get our first positive news about the library from a company named Ernst, Ernst, and Ernst.
* * *
Dear Green Valley Library staff,
* * *
I’m pleased to inform you that a donation in the amount of $500,000 has been made to the Green Valley Public Library. The intent of this donation is to aid the library in remaining open for an additional year. In the time provided, it is assured, that with the benefit of our services, which will be retained by the donor, additional endowments will be procured to support the library.
* * *
In order to accept these funds, the donor would like to remain anonymous, however, there is one request: a portion of the existing library, or a necessary addition to the library, be named in honor of Bethany Oliver-Winston, and said section or addition be given her name in memory of her devotion to the library and her love of books.
* * *
Julianne pauses in reading the letter to peer up at me. Our eyes hold one another’s filled with tears, questions, and relief. So much relief. Who could have done this, we wonder while at the same time we both feel a similar sense of gratitude. Giving something Bethany’s name will be our honor.
“The letter goes on to quantify the collection is at our discretion, but additional librarians may be obtained to support these specifications and improvements.” Julianne stares at the letter like Moses handed her the Ten Commandment tablets. The letter is sacred and our savior.
“Do you know what this means?” I keep my voice low, as if I’ll break the glorious spell upon us. All kinds of thoughts form in my head, but I’m stopped in my pondering when Julianne looks up at me with genuine tears in her eyes. In all the years I’ve known her, I’ve never seen her cry. Not even at Bethany’s funeral where she joined me in blowing bubbles to guide Bethany’s spirit to her eternal resting place did Julianne shed a tear. But today, liquid pools.
“It means, the library is saved. Praise Bethany.” Julianne raises a fist in triumphant female-power. “I knew she wouldn’t let me down.” Yes, our patron saint of the library. Thank you, sister booklover.
“What do we need to do?”
“I simply contact this number and they begin the acceptance of the donation. Then they become a partner in searching for further endowments to keep us open.”
“And for improvements,” I add, a touch of excitement mingling with the preservation of the library. Not only will it be saved but it will be changed, and I can’t wait for some of the innovative items we might gain to keep the library doors open … and our books on the shelves.
When Julianne’s shoulders fall, I note she isn’t agreeing. I’d like to think she sees the vision of the future. There will be differences, but it won’t all be bad. However, chan
ge can be a struggle. I’m the first to admit this. The shake of Julianne’s head tells me she doesn’t want to accept the truth. This change will be more difficult for her. She’ll roll with the evolution like she did when card catalogs were replaced with computers, but sometimes, she doesn’t desire a different path. Briefly, I wonder if she’s considering retirement.
Julianne squeezes at her eyes with weathered fingers and stands as she sets the letter on the desktop. “I think I’ll call Seamus and tell him the good news.”
“Of course,” I say, and smile at the love Julianne and her husband share. Then I think of Nathan. I think I’ll give him a call as well, from my new phone.
I call Nathan and tell him about the library. He wants to celebrate but I tell him the ladies of the library already have plans.
“Sounds like a wild time,” he teases knowing none of us are drinkers. I promise him I’ll come to his place for dinner the next night.
“I’ll be waiting for you,” he says, and a smile breaks out on my face. I love this man.
Julianne, Sabrina, and I plan to meet at Daisy’s Nut House for a celebratory doughnut, but to our surprise, Cletus Winston arrives in the library.
“Salutations, fellow book lovers,” he greets us rather suspiciously. A knowing grin breaks within his thick beard.
“Cletus Winston, what did you do?” I admonish, hearing his mother’s sweet voice ring in my head. Cletus was the quirkiest of her children, but definitely the softest despite a standoffish edge. He values family more than anything. And knowledge. And truth, which is what I hope to seek from him. “Did you donate to the library?”
It’s a rather large sum, and while the Winstons seem well-enough off, I can’t imagine having that amount easily available. Perhaps it was Sienna, Jethro’s movie star wife who has the cash for such a generous donation. Maybe the boys at the Winston Auto Body Shop pooled their funds, sharing the responsibility. Drew Runous was the executor of Bethany’s estate. She sold him all her assets to keep it from her deadbeat husband. Perhaps Drew gave us her earnings.
“I don’t know what you’re insinuating, Miss Naomi,” Cletus says, his expression giving away nothing, but a little gleam in his eyes tells me he knows something. He always does.
It’s almost closing time and I notice Cletus pause a moment, taking in the shelves of knowledge and entertainment.
“Momma sure loved this place,” he mutters, and Mrs. MacIntyre walks up behind him. She rubs a conciliatory hand over his shoulders just once.
“She was the best of women,” she offers him.
Cletus nods, staring off at the arrangement of our current library. The children’s section with its beanbags in brightly colored fabrics. Planets, Sabrina’s nephew calls them. The rows of literature and informational texts. Our little check-out counter and the lobby area with our holiday themed windows. Soon, it’s all going to be different. A change is coming, which isn’t all bad.
Epilogue
Dewey Decimal Classification: 646.87 Romantic Partnership/Marriage
[Naomi]
I’d very much like to marry you, he said.
I’d very much like to say yes, I answered.
That’s how we ended up here, a place I never in my wildest dreams imagined I’d be standing—opposite Nathan. We were legally bound to each other in the eyes of the law through our civil service in Knoxville earlier in the day, but this is our celebration of marriage. We couldn’t have predicted the weather for a winter day in Tennessee, but the universe is cooperating so far, although it’s chilly.
I don’t feel the cold as Nathan’s hands warm mine. We stand amidst the trees behind my home. A ceremonial circle has been made around us with holly springs, boxwood, and cedar boughs. A Wiccan wedding isn’t written in formal stone, so we’ve incorporated a mix of things to make this ceremony our own.
The firepit was moved within our circle, providing some heat and comfort for our few guests. Julianne and Seamus. Sabrina and Wyatt. Nathan’s girls, Emma Rae, and Todd. Bev. Jedd. Even Scotia stands at the edge of our gathering. I wanted the ceremony in my backyard in order to feel Jebediah. I prayed for his blessing and I’m certain he’s offered it. Forgiveness is the greatest gift, and I accept that Jebediah has done his part to free both Nathan and me.
Presiding over the wedding is a minister knowledgeable in handfasting ceremonies. She asks us to state our intentions.
Nathan goes first.
“Naomi, you believe in the power of three, a symbolic number and so I’m going to connect it to us. Three tries to get us right. Three dates to get back the only woman in my life. I’m sorry you had to wait for me. Eighteen years. Divisible by three. Love for my three girls.” He nods to Dahlia and Clem before looking back at me. “But know that you are my number one. One woman. One love. One lifetime.”
I’d cry if I weren’t so happy by his words.
“I love you,” he whispers, while squeezing my wrist.
“Naomi,” the minister prompts.
“Nathan, I give to you my body, my heart, and my soul. It’s all I have to offer you, but each part is sacred to me. The power of three, you just said. My body for your pleasure. My heart for your love. My soul for intellect, emotion, and trust. I believe in you for me. And all of me wants to love you. I’m stuck on you.”
He chuckles as he blows out a breath and swallows.
The minister then leads us through lines we recite to one another, promising to love and honor the other. Nathan asked for us to include a blessing on our rings and in the tradition of modern marriage, we added this to the celebration. We already wear them from our ceremony at the courthouse, so the officiator simply places a prayer of faith over them before wrapping our hands with a strip of linen, binding Nathan and I to one another for the rest of our days. When the binding finishes, Nathan looks at me, firelight twinkling in his eyes.
“Now, we’re stuck to each other,” he says, a smile growing on his lips, dimple exposed.
“Stuck together,” I add, and he leans forward to join our lips. The kiss slowly heats until a throat clearing reminds us we aren’t alone.
The final part of our wedding ceremony is a little unconventional, but Nathan and I aren’t conventional. Our hands are unbound, and we take a stick to the firepit. Dahlia and Clem are each provided one as well and the four of us join them to light a candle, symbolizing our unity as a family. Emma Rae cries behind us as the flame brightens with the wind for a second.
A final blessing is given, and Nathan holds both my hands as our small family congratulates us with applause. I step forward to kiss him and I’m not surprised when one hand wraps around my back. But when his other hand grips mine and slips between us, I pull back because Nathan turns us.
“What are you doing?” I ask with laughter and confusion.
“It’s not complete, until we dance.” I think he’s teasing me until he spins us, and we begin to make our way around the flames at the center of our gathering. “Full circle,” he mutters under my ear and I giggle when he kisses me.
We certainly have come full circle and for once, I feel complete. We spin and my leg brushes Nathan’s.
This time, he wore an actual kilt and my inner goddess warms within.
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Acknowledgments
(L)ittle (B)lessings of Gratitude
This work would not exist were it not for the intuitive and creative brain of Penny Reid, who first developed the Winstons and all the secondary characters bringing Green Valley to life in our imaginations. I’m eternally grateful for this opportunity to work with an author dedicated to the promotion of others in the romance book industry, and equally thankful to work with her assistant, Fiona; the SRU support team; and the other authors of Smartypants Romance Universe.
To Nora and Piper, both authors in the first round GV, thank you for your patience and conversations, including talking me off the l
edge a few times. Piper (and Tracy), Green Valley will always be more than an imaginary place after our visit to Tennessee, so thank you for including me in that adventure. To Katie, for meeting me in Blue Ridge for my own nefarious reasons, and to M.E. for reading the first round of the first chapter and assuring me it was story people might like to read.
To Nick A., maintenance extraordinaire and motorcycle enthusiast, your information into the workings of MC life were invaluable. Also, thank you for an introduction to the Tale of the Dragon. (P.S. I’ve really driven down that road – in a Jeep, though. No motorcycles for me. I also got lost after driving it. Where is Jethro Winston when you need him?). Additional thank you to Leigh Ann P. for further information into the “female” roles within a club.
To Jann S. and Lisa C., thank you for your insight into the Wiccan religion. I hope I’ve done the religion justice, and if I didn’t, it was never my intention to offend. I appreciate the Goddess more than you might know.
To Maura, who gave me a little spark in Loving L.B., and it turned into this story. I hope you like it. I tried to “do me” like you encouraged, and to all the ladies (and a few men) in Loving L.B., who keep me in laughter and hot images every day of the week. Thank you for loving the “seasoned” man as much as me.
To Mel, for taking the detour in my personal adventures to walk me through this story. I hope you know how much you mean to me.
A special note to librarians everywhere – you are superheroes. Thank you for your love of the written word, still available in hard cover or paperback. I’d like to add, all Dewey Decimal Classification reference numbers were taken from the University of Illinois at Urbana-Champaign University Library. More specific numbers were obtained from http://bpeck.com/references/DDC/ddc.htm. Any errors in numbers and categories are the fault of this author.
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