Isabelle Morgan. The beautiful blonde turned heads wherever she went. Her perfect features were turned toward Paul in an attentive smile. Before the car left the corner, she leaned over and brushed a kiss across Paul’s cheek.
Heather whirled and dashed back inside. Her heart was nearly pounding out of her chest, and she felt faint. Stupid, stupid. What had she expected? That the toad out there had really become a prince? Paul hadn’t changed. Not one bit. Her eyes burned, and she swallowed hard.
Her friends followed her back inside. Lia touched her hand. “Heather, what’s wrong?”
She clutched her shaking hands together. “Didn’t you see? That convertible out there. Paul was driving. Isabelle Morgan was with him, and she kissed him.”
Molly put a hand on Heather’s arm. “It might be nothing. Don’t jump to conclusions.”
“I’m not jumping to conclusions. I saw it with my own eyes.”
Abby nodded. “I saw it too. I’m sorry, Heather. I know that had to hurt.”
“She kissed him, though. He didn’t kiss her,” Molly pointed out.
“What is he doing with her in the first place? He’s never even told me he has a convertible, and I told him the other day I’d love to have one. It would have been the perfect opportunity to tell me about his and offer to take me for a ride.”
Molly nodded slowly. “I guess you’re right. Are you okay?”
“I let my guard down. I’m so stupid!” Heather wanted to slap herself. Hard. She wasn’t going to cry over him. Not again.
“What are you going to do?” Lia asked.
“I’m going to let him figure out his own stupid farm. I’m not going to work with him anymore. I can’t stand it.”
Molly put her hand on Heather’s shoulder. “I know you, Heather. You won’t be happy abandoning the project until it’s finished. This is close to your heart. Talk to him about it. Ask for an explanation.”
She shook her head. “I never want to talk to him again. It hurts too much.”
“It’s not like you to run away from a problem,” Abby said. “I might, but you wouldn’t.”
The vision of Paul with Isabelle had imprinted itself on her eyelids. It was going to haunt her for a long time. “Maybe I can talk about it later. I can’t do it tonight.”
Maybe never.
Every love affair runs strong on forgiveness. According to the Good Book, we are to forgive “seventy times seven,” but I suggest you stop counting.
PEARL CHAMBERS, The Gentlewoman’s Guide to Love and Courtship
CHAPTER NINE
Paul gave the red convertible another buff, then stepped back with a smile. He couldn’t wait for Heather to see it. She was going to love it. His cell phone rang, and he pulled it out and looked at it. His smile broadened. “Hey, Heather. I was just thinking about you. Want to go get ice cream tonight?”
“No, thanks. I just called to let you know I have turned over the farm project to my coworker, Jessica. She can take it from here.”
“W-what? No, I want you.”
“I’m afraid my schedule is too packed to let me finish it out.” Her voice could freeze an Eskimo.
“What’s going on? Has something happened? You sound mad.”
“Not a thing I didn’t expect. I have to go.”
The phone clicked in his ear, and he stared at it. She’d hung up. He jammed the phone back in his pocket. What could have riled her up like this? Things were moving along nicely, and he had high hopes of putting a ring on her finger one day. She was so skittish and afraid of being hurt. Something had to have made those fears come back.
Wait a minute. Could she have seen him last night with Isabelle? His gut clenched. He’d rebuffed Isabelle’s advances pretty effectively, but just seeing him with her might have sent Heather’s fears into the stratosphere. He clenched his jaw. Shouldn’t she have come to him and asked him instead of assuming the worst? Did she care so little she was willing to let go of something that could be very special?
He jumped into the car and fumbled for his keys. She might be afraid of confrontation, but he was going to tell her she was dead wrong.
As he was pulling out of the drive, his Aunt Rose came out of the house dressed in crisp linen slacks and a navy sweater. Her smile faded when she saw his face. “What’s wrong, Paul?”
He put the car in park and told her about the call and his suspicions. “It’s best I find out now, I guess. If she’s going to get upset if I even talk to another woman, it would be a problem forever.”
Aunt Rose pursed her lips, a sure sign he was in trouble.
“What? Am I missing something?”
“It’s not easy to overcome a past reputation, Paul. You can hardly blame her when she has seen a different person from what you are now. What did you do?”
“What makes you think I did anything?”
She skewered him with a stern look. “You mentioned another woman, so I assume Heather got the wrong idea somehow.”
He sighed. “I bought this car from Isabelle Morgan. She, uh, kissed me. On the cheek,” he added hastily when Aunt Rose looked horrified. “I put her in her place.”
“And you think sweet Heather saw this?”
“She just told me to go fly a kite, so I’m guessing something caused it.” He frowned, remembering her cold tone.
“She’s a reasonable girl. Just tell her what happened.”
He clenched his jaw. “And she might believe me until the next time. I’m not going to live with that every day.”
“Give her some time to believe the new Paul. She’s worth fighting for.”
His great-aunt was always so wise. He smiled. “You like her?”
“I’ve always liked her. She’s one who gives with her whole heart. You need that after the childhood you had.”
“I want someone to love me unconditionally. Not a woman who looks at me with suspicion every minute.”
“She’s just afraid, Paul. And you have to admit, if you’d seen her with a known ladies’ man who kissed her, you’d have been upset too.”
He hadn’t thought about it that way. “Yeah, I guess so.” In fact, he would have wanted to bust the guy’s jaw. And he’d have been hurt and mad at her. “I don’t really know if she saw me. It could be something totally different. I’m going to find out, though. Thanks, Aunt Rose. You’re the best.”
He started the car and sent up a quick prayer he’d be able to find her, even if he had to drive all over town looking for her car.
Heather sniffled and wiped her nose. Crying didn’t solve anything, but she couldn’t seem to stop the leakage ever since she’d arrived at Molly’s house. Thankfully, Charlie was playing with Noah and wouldn’t be upset by her lack of control. She and Molly sat at the kitchen table with some calming tea.
Molly handed her a tissue. “I’m sorry, Heather.”
She took it and dabbed her eyes. “Me too. I should have been prepared for this. I mean, it’s not like I don’t know his reputation.”
“Maybe you should talk to Natalie. She might be able to shed some light on this.”
“I don’t want anyone to know what a fool I’ve been.”
The doorbell rang. “Stay here in the kitchen. I’ll get rid of whoever it is.” Molly patted Heather’s shoulder as she hurried from the room.
Heather mopped her eyes and squared her shoulders. This was ridiculous. She and Paul had exchanged a few kisses. It was hardly an earth-shattering event that they’d broken up. But it felt like her world was ending. She just needed to focus on raising her boy and forget romance.
Footsteps sounded behind her, heavier than Molly’s bare feet had been. She turned and tried to pin on a smile, then froze when she saw Paul’s face. “What are you doing here?”
His gaze traveled over her face. “Looking for you. Have you been crying?”
“Of course not.” The tears had dried up with one look at his face. “If you’re here to try to talk me into going on with the project, don’t bother. You’ll
do fine without me.”
“I don’t care about the project. It’s just a job. I came to find out what had happened between us. Did you see me with Isabelle last night?”
She gasped at his direct approach. “I did.” She folded her arms across her chest. “You kissed her, Paul.”
“I didn’t kiss her. She kissed me. I’m not interested in Isabelle or any other woman.” He took her hand. “I have something to show you.”
She allowed him to pull her to her feet and lead her toward the door. They passed Molly, who mouthed, “Listen to him” at her. Heather blinked at the sunshine when they stepped into the yard. The cherry red convertible she’d seen last night sat parked in the drive. The top was down, and the white leather interior gleamed.
She pulled her hand away. “What’s she doing here?”
“She’s not here. Just the car. I bought it from her because you said you’d like to go for ice cream in a convertible.”
She gasped as the words sank in. “Y-you bought this?”
“Yep. And for the record, when she kissed me, I told her I was seeing you and I didn’t want to mess up anything with someone I love.”
Tears sprang to her eyes again. A myriad of emotions swept over her. What had she done? She’d been so quick to judge him. “Oh, Paul.” She swallowed hard. “I’m sorry, so sorry.”
He took a step closer. “You should be. I’m not a philanderer, Heather. I’m asking you to let go of your fears and trust me. Can you do that?”
Could she? She studied his face, the cleft chin with its slight bit of stubble. His brown eyes were earnest. She saw fear there too. He wanted this to work, and so did she, but they had no future if she couldn’t trust him. He’d been quick to come here and explain. If they both kept things open and truthful between them, they could work out anything, couldn’t they?
She took a deep breath. “I can, Paul. I trust you. I’m going to forget the past and move forward.”
His eyes lit, and his hands came down on her shoulders. The warm press of his fingers made her quiver. She tipped her face up to meet his as his lips came down on hers. The promise in his kiss made the last bit of her fear fly away.
Risking wasn’t easy, but it was so worth it. She remembered the last thing she’d read in the Gentlewoman’s Guide. Love runs on forgiveness. Maybe the book wasn’t so silly after all.
Shelved Under Romance
Kristin Billerbeck
Always maintain an element of hope in your demeanor. A gentleman always appreciates optimism in a young lady.
PEARL CHAMBERS, The Gentlewoman’s Guide to Love and Courtship
CHAPTER ONE
Abby Gray rushed to get the last of the books shelved in the Smitten Library. Tonight her book group met at Lookaway Village Books, and the evening offered one of the rare occasions she got to be out of the house. She looked forward to discussing the books and to seeing her friends, so when several last-minute patrons entered the library, she frowned.
“We’re closing!” she said as cheerily as possible as she stood and peered over the long wooden counter. She never wanted to discourage reading. The other patrons turned and left, but Wyatt Tanner emerged from the group, holding up a stack of books in one hand and grinning. She noted how easily he raised the pile of hardbacks and thought he didn’t exactly seem like the reading sort. More like a guy who spent endless hours at the gym. But with the amount of time he spent in the library, there had to be more to him. If he didn’t render her speechless every time he sauntered into her domain, she might be able to find out what it was.
Wyatt did a lot of computer work for the library through his consulting business, but he was rugged. Tanned skin and lines etched around his mouth from extensive time outside. Looked as though he could hold his own in a street fight. If ever such a thing happened in Smitten, he’d be the one you’d want on your side. The way he looked at her was . . . smoldering and intense.
Wyatt had been volunteering at the library for the past year, converting their card catalog to digital. But Abby loved that the Smitten Library still had its historic card catalog, and that her library science degree still meant something. The Dewey Decimal system simply wasn’t as romantic when plugged into a computer. Any monkey could scan a code, but she adored the backup system; the dusty, aged smell of the cards and wood combination when someone opened a drawer was an homage to the old ways.
“So . . . should I come back tomorrow, then?” Wyatt asked with a disarming smile. He had a small freckle on his bottom lip. When he grinned, it captured her full attention.
She smiled. “For you, I’ll make an exception.”
She took the books from him, and his fingertips brushed hers. She bristled at his touch. Wyatt may have been an avid reader, but from what her friend Molly told her, he also loved extreme sports and challenged his body in ways she thought foolish. That, combined with his desire to streamline her library, made her feel tongue-tied in his presence. He simply had a dangerous air about him that made her want to cower into the safety of her small life.
“How about if I buy you a cup of coffee to make up for keeping you late?”
She slid each of his books through the scanner. “Not necessary. You’re all checked in. If you’ll excuse me, I’ve got to get the lights out and be on my way.”
He stood up straight, his eyes wide at her easy rejection.
“Is there anything else?” she asked him.
“Do you want some help with the lights?”
She stammered. “Th-that’s nice, but I have a system so that I know I’ve gotten everything turned off.”
“Oh. Gotcha.” He made no motion to leave; instead, he followed her as she went to hit the lights in the back. “You know, I read your library picks every month. I thought we might have a great discussion on them. You know, give me your professional viewpoint.”
She couldn’t help but smile. “I’d hardly call my opinion ‘professional.’ I’m just a book lover like you.”
“Did you notice what I read this month?” He looked down at the books he’d just handed her.
“You read Persuasion?”
“I did. ‘I am half agony, half hope,’” he said, quoting one of her favorite lines.
She had to admit, he was good. Very smooth.
A red-hot heat rose in her cheeks. “I must give you credit. It’s not many men who will read Jane Austen. Unless they have to for school.” She still wouldn’t look at him directly for fear that he could read her easily—like any book.
“Jane’s not so bad. I can appreciate her humor. Her cynicism.” He walked alongside her, shortening his long stride to stay beside her as she flicked off more lights. “I took you for a Mr. Darcy girl, because I know how you like things the way they are. But now . . .” He rubbed his chin. “Your reaction makes me wonder if you don’t harbor a latent aspiration for risk. Maybe you’re a Captain Wentworth fan.”
“I’ll make it easy for you. I like Captain Wentworth’s sense of adventure,” she told him, practically bursting to discuss her favorite hero. “It’s the antithesis of my life.” As soon as she said the words, she regretted them. Why prove what he already knew? That she was the quietest mouse in town. She lived like an eighty-year-old woman. He didn’t need to know it. But worse, why did she care if he knew?
He moved closer to her. “I can’t believe you’re bringing this up. I’ve been trying to . . . What kind of adventure would you like to have, Abby? It’s my specialty, you know. Why don’t you come out on one of my outdoor adventures? You’d have a blast. And I’d take good care of you. I’d bring you back in one piece.”
She shook her head. “I’ll live my adventures through characters, thank you. In fact, I’m late for my book club as we speak.” She buttoned the top button on her cardigan. “Your weekend treks that I’ve seen advertised . . .” She stared across the library at the community board. “They seem like the stuff of Hollywood action movies.”
“Only because you haven’t tried them. You haven’t
lived until you’ve soared off the side of a mountain on a hang glider or climbed a sheer granite cliff with—”
“Actually, I’ve lived very well doing none of those death-defying stunts.” She put a hand to her hip. “Do you know what you need, Wyatt?”
He rested his chin in his hands on the counter. “What is it I need, Abby?”
“To learn to enjoy life without the adrenaline rush of nearly losing it.”
“What makes you think I don’t?”
She didn’t have an answer for that.
“What makes you think that I can’t enjoy myself sitting in Mountain Perks and drinking coffee across from a beautiful librarian?”
She lifted a brow and crossed her arms. “What do you want, Wyatt?”
“I want to have coffee with you, Abby.”
“No, I mean, really.”
“I really want to have coffee with you. There’s something I need to discuss with you.”
She bent down to unplug the copy machine. “I have a lot of responsibilities at home. Friday night is my one night out, and my calendar is full with my book group.”
“Your one night out, and you let loose with the wild book club crowd, huh?”
She didn’t know how to take Wyatt. He seemed to have a dry sense of humor, but she never understood if he was teasing or serious. The other librarians always giggled when he was around, but without their reactions for cues, she felt fairly clueless.
“That was a joke, Abby.” He grinned at her playfully. “I think it’s great you go to a book group. Very cool.”
She smiled uncomfortably. “Right.” She paused and gathered her thoughts. “I take care of my mother, so I go home early after work and get her dinner. On Fridays I go to book club.” Riveting. She must sound absolutely riveting.
He stared at her blankly.
“I’m trying to explain why I don’t go out very often. I appreciate your offer of coffee, but I’ve usually got to get home.”
Smitten Book Club Page 7
