by Lori Ryan
Everyone in their circle glanced between the two. Whatever sweet memories had been shared just moments before were lost. But anyone in the room could see their feelings for one another weren’t.
Elle wondered if maybe she could get Sally and her father to forget the things that had put a wedge between them, put it in the past and move on, live in the moment. They obviously had cared for each other at some point, and if the pain in her father’s eyes told her anything, he still did.
Chapter Twenty-One
Emmett walked into the small library that had been a part of his life since he’d been able to read at the age of three. His mother had fed his ferocious appetite with books from the Canyon Creek Library. Stepping into the small building, Emmett inhaled the familiar musty smell that had always calmed his fears. It was like coming home.
He was suddenly assaulted with memories of his childhood, sitting in the children’s section on a bean bag reading Tikki Tikki Tembo, and later, the Lord of the Rings trilogy. Even at the young age of ten, Emmett dreamed of one day becoming a writer. Now that he was, he was paralyzed with fear. How would he be able to sell this new idea to his publisher?
He was heading toward the small room were historical documents were kept when Flo the—Florence, he corrected in his mind—came toward him, waving her arthritic hand. “I found something for you, Emmett. You’re going to love this!”
Emmett turned with interest and followed the woman back toward the circulation desk. She moved fast for a woman her age—which no one actually knew for sure as she kept no records of herself. Florence Parker been around since his parents were young so he could only guess. She still had all her marbles though, and Emmett was thankful for that.
“What is it?” he asked. She’d been helping him the last couple of weeks and seemed just as excited to be digging through the old town documents as she was.
She pulled a small stack of letters, each in a protective sleeve from under the desk and laid them out before him. “Letters from Elsbeth Noble to—”
“To Emmett Sumner?” Emmett asked, referring to the first Emmett Sumner, his ancestor from the 1800s. He knew from the condition of the letters before him, that Florence was talking about the Elsbeth that had lived centuries before, not his Elle.
His Elle. The thought brought a smile to his face.
“No,” Florence said, drawing him back to the conversation. “Letters to her friend, Katy Wilson. The Wilsons were a family that also prospected back then but I don’t think there are any of them left here nowadays. When they found no gold, they moved on. Katy’s family moved back east, to Connecticut, but the girls wrote to each other, it seems.” Flo looked at the letters. “Of course, I only have the letters Katy wrote to Elsbeth, but it seems clear from them that Elsbeth was telling her about Emmett.”
Emmett pulled the letters toward him. “This is great, Florence. Thank you.” His eyes were already scanning the small stack when she spoke again.
“Oh,” she said, “that reminds me.” She leaned down and grabbed a stack of books, plopping them on the counter with a thud. God, they were his books. “I want you to sign these.”
“For the library?” Emmett asked, realizing she had every title he’d published.
“Heck, no.” She batted her hand in the air. “For me, silly.”
“Oh.” Emmett sighed. He was proud of his books and would have been happy to know that Florence had them in stock, but he didn’t want to seem like an ass, signing copies for the shelves.
She flipped open the cover to the first one and slid it across the counter, pushing a pen in his face.
“What should I write in it?” Emmett asked.
“Whatever you want. I’m just so excited to have a signed collection.” She bounced up and down like a giddy school girl, which, given her age was probably a difficult feat.
Emmett thought for a moment before bending over the book.
To Ms. Parker, Thank you for feeding my appetite.
He grinned, hoping she’d think it was funny. Emmett quickly scribbled his name and turned the book around, allowing Ms. Parker to read his inscription.
She pulled on the glasses hanging around her neck and read the inscription before yanking them off and staring up at him. “Feeding your appetite?” she asked, her already wrinkled brow furrowing even more. “What the hell does that mean?”
“My appetite for books,” he held up his hand, “for reading.”
“Oh,” she said nodding but obviously still not happy. “Well, just make the next ones out to Flo,” she said, closing the cover and sliding the next book over.
“Sure,” Emmett said, scribbling a generic inscription. Emmett closed the final cover and pushed them across the counter toward Ms. Parker.
Flo grabbed all the books and hugged them to her chest like they were a real person. “Oh, thank you, Emmett. I’ll treasure them always.”
She really was going to treasure his books. The thought both surprised and inspired Emmett.
Florence slipped the books under the counter and stood tall—well, as tall as she could, given her aging spine—and slammed her hands on the desk. “Now!” she half shouted.
Emmett jumped. For an elderly woman she sure was strong. “Now, what?”
She shoved at the protected letters he’d set off to one side. “Now get to work. I want to see what you can do with everything we’ve been digging up. Oh, and I set aside a few documents in the microfiche room that I think you ought to look at.”
Emmett nodded and picked up the letters. Microfiche Room was the generous title used for the closet that stored a small microfiche machine and a cabinet with old newspapers and other documents the town had converted to microfiche with a grant one year. Emmett had a feeling they’d soon be seeking a grant to scan them all to computer, and he’d be glad when they did.
Emmett grinned to himself. His fingertips were twitching and a pang of excitement burned in his gut, a sure sign he was on to a great story. This new series was so out of his comfort zone but he knew he could do it. He just had to convince his publisher. A daunting task for sure.
Clutching the letters close, he headed toward the microfiche room, more determined than ever.
“Thanks for the ride, sugar pie,” Elle’s grandfather said as she pulled into the parking lot of the library. He probably thought she’d just drop him off and leave. Instead, she pulled into a spot and put the car in park.
“I’ll come in. I’m meeting a friend here.” It was simpler to call Emmett a friend than to have to deal with Pops’ scowls and lecturing if she told him she was meeting Emmett.
Emmett had called her earlier to tell her he’d stayed at the library, later than he’d intended, immersed in research for his book. It made her heart happy to hear the enthusiasm and excitement in his voice.
“There you are,” Ms. Parker shouted from the porch of the library. “I’ve been waiting here almost thirty minutes on you, old man.”
Elle bit back a laugh.
“Hold on to your granny panties, woman, I’m gettin’ there as fast as I can. Which ain’t fast at all for an old man with one bad hip.”
“Excuses, excuses,” Ms. Parker said, ambling down the stairs with the grace and style of a woman half her age. Elle had to give her credit. The woman kept in shape. “Let’s go. Bingo starts in thirty minutes and I want a Frito Pie.”
“I’ll give you a Frito Pie.” Her grandfather swatted Ms. Parker on the butt.
“Pops!” Elle scolded.
Her grandfather grinned and waggled his brows. “She likes the rough stuff.”
Elle felt sick. The thought of them—No, she would not go there.
“Oh, Tommy,” Ms. Parker giggled. She actually giggled.
Tommy? There wasn’t a person in town who didn’t call her grandfather Pops Noble, although she guessed at one point he must have been Thomas to most. But, really, Tommy?
“I’m just going to head up and check on Emmett,” Elle said, ducking her head and marching
up the steps.
“I gave him the keys and told him to lock up,” Ms. Parker called behind her. Elle had to smile at the small-town librarian simply handing over the keys.
“Let’s go, Flo.” Her grandfather mumbled something else and Ms. Parker squealed in delight.
Don’t turn around, don’t turn around. Don’t. Turn. Around.
Elle turned around. She nearly fainted.
Her grandfather’s arm was wrapped around Ms. Parker, his hand firmly attached to her butt, squeezing it as if checking to see how ripe she was. Their lips were seared together and…oh, dear God, was that tongue?
Elle quickly turned, shaking her head to rid herself of the image. She couldn’t get inside fast enough. The door closed behind her and she searched the library for Emmett, wishing she had bleach or some other hazardous chemical to pour in her eyes and burn away the memory of her grandfather and Ms. Parker sucking face.
“Elle, is that you?” Emmett shouted from the back of the library.
“Yeah, it’s me.” She meandered through the library until she came to a corner she’d never really paid attention to before.
Emmett was gathering up papers and notepads.
“What’s all that?”
He glanced up at her as he stood, a huge smile spreading across his face. “Research.”
“That’s a lot of research.”
“Yeah,” he said, “Ms. Parker had to refill the paper tray on the microfiche machine three times. I was afraid she was going to run out.” He chuckled as he ordered his mess, then his eyes met hers and the light in them struck her. He was excited about something. “I think Elsbeth Noble became a photographer later in life, after the breakup with Emmett, I mean.”
“What makes you think that?” Elle asked, leaning against the table. She was fascinated by the idea of this woman, her ancestor and namesake, having lived so many years earlier.
“Ms. Parker found letters a friend wrote to Elsbeth years ago. Toward the end of the collection, a few of them ask how the photography was going. Elsbeth would have been twenty-two at the time those later letters were written. Photography had developed into a mass-market industry by then. Anyone could use a camera, if they could afford one.”
Emmett paused in collecting the papers and looked back to her. “I want to talk to people and see if I can find any of the photographs she might have taken. Maybe someone in town still has some.”
“I can ask my dad if anyone in our family has any old papers or photographs.”
Emmett turned and grinned, his eyes roaming over her body.
“What?” she asked, looking down at her dress.
He slowly slid his gaze up her body, his eyes settling on her breasts. For the first time, she didn’t feel self-conscious about her body. Instead, she tingled with anticipation, hoping his hands would do what his eyes just had—devour her, caress her skin, bring body to life like he always did.
“Did you wear that to work?” he asked in a husky tone.
Elle glanced down at her dress. She wore a plain nude colored sheath dress with capped sleeves. Nothing out of the ordinary for the office.
“Yeah, why?”
Emmett sat his papers aside and straightened, moving toward her like a puma stalking his prey.
“Emmett,” she whispered.
His arms slid around her waist as he drew her to him. “You should be illegal,” he murmured as his head bent to her neck.
Elle drew in a sharp breath when his lips pressed against her skin. His touch lit her body with desire, just like she’d craved moments before.
Emmett buried his head in her neck and inhaled deeply. “And you smell unbelievable.” His lips moved to her jaw, skimming kisses across her sensitive skin.
Elle’s head lolled and she whimpered, pressing her body to his.
Emmett’s mouth found hers and she was lost.
She wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him closer.
His hands roamed freely over her body, squeezing her hips, her ass, then moving up to her breast.
She stiffened but only for the barest moment before Emmett tilted his head, deepening the kiss and stealing her thoughts of insecurity once again.
“God,” he murmured against her mouth.
She’d never felt so wanton or desired in all her life. “Emmett,” she squeaked as he slid his hands around to her ass, pressing her into him.
“I want you so much,” he whispered against her mouth.
She broke their kiss. “Not here.”
A wicked grin curled Emmett’s lips. “Why not. It’s always been a fantasy of mine.”
“To have sex in the library?” Elle practically squeaked.
“I spent a lot of time here as a teenager. It’s all teenagers think about.” He bent his head as his hands traced up her back, his fingers fumbling with her zipper.
“Emmett.” She tried to pull away, “we can’t.”
He ground his hips into hers. “Oh, I can.” He laughed.
“I mean.” Elle glanced around the empty library. “We can’t. Here. At the library.”
“Why not?” His lips pressed against her neck again.
Elle felt the cool air hitting the bare skin of her back. He’d undone her zipper and she hadn’t even realized it.
Emmett pulled back as he slid the dress down her shoulders and swept his gaze over her, heat burning in his eyes.
“Emmett,” she pleaded again, not really giving him any resistance.
“Shhh,” he murmured. “You’re in the library.”
“I know,” she practically shrieked. “That’s why we shouldn’t be—”
Oh, dear God, he’d dropped to his knees, his mouth pressed against her abdomen, his tongue working lower. How in the world had he gotten her dress off so quickly?
“Step out,” he said against her belly, his hand nudging the back of one calf.
She did as he asked, lifting her legs as he tossed her dress on a chair. She was standing in the library of her hometown in nothing but her bra and panties. At least they were sexy ones. She should be mortified, but she wasn’t. She was overheated with desire.
Emmett’s hands trailed up her thighs while his mouth hovered over her underwear, his hot breath washing over her sensitive skin.
Elle’s hips bucked involuntarily.
Emmett laughed, the vibration doing wicked things to her in all the right places.
His finger slid inside her panties, dragging them to the side to let the cool air wash over her heated flesh. She looked down at Emmett’s face between her legs, her standing half-naked in a public place. It was the most erotic thing she’d ever seen.
“Emmett,” she moaned again. “Anyone could come in.”
His hazel eyes met hers. “I know.” He smiled then buried his head between her legs, his tongue dancing against her skin. Her body pulsed with need. God, this man could turn her inside out in a heartbeat.
“Oh, God, Emmett.” Her fingers spread into his thick hair, anchoring herself to him as his mouth worked over her. She felt the sweet aching tension build, her orgasm hanging just beyond her reach. Suddenly Emmett was gone, his mouth no longer working her into a frenzy.
Elle opened her eyes and found Emmett standing in front of her. He grabbed her by the waist and lifted her with ease, placing her on the table he’d just been sitting on.
“What are you doing?” she asked, her voice breathless and needy. She watched as he unbuttoned his jeans and slid down the zipper. She couldn’t sit and watch any longer. She needed him.
Latching on to the bottom of his shirt, she grabbed the hem and lifted it over his head. Her fingers skimmed over the smooth skin of his chest, trailing down to his abdomen. He was solid and muscular in all the right places.
Emmett pushed his jeans and boxer briefs down, his erection straining and huge.
Elle wrapped her hands around him, pumping a few times as she watched the resulting fire build in his eyes, stoked by her attention. The effect she had on him was powerf
ul, but the corresponding thrill it gave her was even stronger. She loved that she could do this to him. Could bring him to the brink of control.
“Good, God, woman,” he hissed, “you’re going to end this before I even get inside of you.”
Elle laughed and her head fell against his chest. “Sorry,” she whispered, kissing his skin.
“I highly doubt that.”
She smiled.
He was right.
“Let’s see how limber you are,” Emmett said, spreading her legs wide. She parted with ease.
Elle glanced between them, jerking with need when the tip of him rubbed against her panties. “Please,” she whimpered.
Emmett slid one finger inside her underwear, pulling them aside again. “Wider,” he said.
Elle spread her legs even wider, thankful she was dancing again.
“Oh, shit,” he said, reaching down for his pants.
“What?” she asked, breathless.
“I almost forgot a condom.”
Elle stiffened but remained quiet. Again. She watched silently as he slid the condom on.
“What’s wrong?” he asked.
She smiled and shook her head. “Nothing.”
He leaned his head down and kissed her as he slid in with ease, she was so wet and ready for him. His lips trailed across her jaw and down her neck.
“Emmett, it feels…”
“What?” he moaned against her throat, pushing in slowly then pulling out again. “What does it feel like?”
“Heaven,” she whispered. “It feels like … like everything. Please, please don’t stop.”
“Never,” he said.
“Faster,” she pleaded, the heat growing inside her, as she forced herself to ignore the fact that he’d used the word never. There were times, like now, when she wanted to beg Emmett for forever, but she wouldn’t. She knew he couldn’t stay. She would be happy in the moment and not think about tomorrow.
Emmett grasped her hips, tilting her body to accommodate him.
“Emmett, I, I…” Elle threw her head back, her words choked on a sob. Flames of desire burned her skin and her body tightened.
“Let go,” Emmett growled.
