“You understand what it will take to bring the library into the future,” Julianne said, nodding briskly. “Just look how you are with the teens. You engage with them. You know how to fix the computers. You’re connected on social media with authors. Your vision for how to help rural communities shows that you genuinely care, that you’re not looking down your nose from some city-dweller’s derisive perspective. You want to help.” Julianne’s voice broke a little. “You’re going to love them, just like I do. I know the library will be in good hands.”
Thuy’s eyes stung, and her heart warmed. “But Naomi, or Sabrina…” she protested. “They’ve been here so much longer than I have.”
“They’re not technically librarians,” Julianne said. “Besides, they don’t have your particular expertise or training. They’ll follow your lead. And you’ll do a great job.”
“Thank you,” Thuy said. “I’ll be happy to accept.”
“And I’ll be happy to spend more time with my grandkids,” Julianne said, her eyes bright, her whole posture more loose-limbed and less tense. “It’ll be strange, not coming into the library.”
“No one’s stopping you from coming as often as you like,” Thuy pointed out. “You’re always going to be welcome here, you know.”
“I know. And I’m excited to see what happens in the future.”
Thuy thought about it — about transforming the library, and getting closer to the community. About spending time with Maddy, watching as her farm and her family grew, being a part of that growth. And she thought about Drill, and their future.
“I’m excited to see what happens, as well,” Thuy murmured. In fact, she couldn’t wait.
Epilogue
Drill sank into the cabin’s bed, groaning a little. It had been a long day on the farm. Now that it was March, they were getting fully ready for planting. He’d worked most of the day on getting the tractor tuned up, and helping David with getting the cold frames set up for Maddy’s planned produce. He’d taken a break at lunch to spend some time with Maddy and his nephew, Cole. The kid was a pistol, with Maddy’s blue eyes and David’s dark hair. He always looked serious. Maddy said when he got a little older, he’d smile more. He was still less than a month old and looked about the size of a large loaf of bread. Still, the kid was amazing. Drill had never given much thought to a family of his own, but seeing Cole, he definitely warmed to the idea.
Especially when Thuy was holding a baby, Drill thought, and smiled.
He glanced at the clock. It was nearly ten, but it was Tuesday. Tuesday was teen night at the library, and Thuy always stayed late to lock up. Nonetheless, after their dust up with the Wraiths, when Thuy wasn’t on the farm, he was a little nervous. They hadn’t given Thuy, Maddy, or himself any more trouble since the incident, but he was always on the lookout for a potential breakout. So far, Catfish had ignored him, and the other bikers had given Thuy a wide berth out of respect for her family and crew. Her bluff had worked like a charm.
He yawned, stretching slightly, loosening his tight muscles. He ought to be reading the book on permaculture David had given him. It had taken him a little while — and a private talk — to warm up to the guy, but he had to admit, David was turning into a doting father, and he treated Maddy like a queen. Which he damned well ought to, Drill thought with a nod. And David was an unconventional farmer, but he’d probably do well. Still, he was really bookish, and Drill had spent enough time on a farm to just know shit.
It would be an interesting summer, and an even more interesting harvest. They’d see how it turned out.
Still, he didn’t feel like lying in bed and reading a textbook. He’d finally finished reading The Name of the Wind after the New Year, and then he’d gotten sidetracked by Cole’s birth and helping Thuy move their stuff from Oakland, and then getting rid of his apartment and moving in with Thuy here in the cabin. Now, he was starting A Wise Man’s Fear, the sequel.
He couldn’t believe it, but he was excited about reading a book.
It was all because of Thuy. She’d changed his life. And he couldn’t thank her enough.
He heard her open the door. “Hey, baby,” she called up to the loft. “Mmmm. It’s nice and toasty in here.”
He’d built up the fire before he went to bed, knowing that’s how she liked to come home. “It’s even more comfy in bed,” he called back, in his best tempting voice.
She laughed. He heard her putting her stuff down, settling in. She climbed up, her dark eyes alight with amusement. “You do look cozy,” she remarked.
He grinned, resting his book on the nightstand. “Have fun with the kids?”
“More teens than ever were there tonight,” she said with a happy smile. He loved the way she glowed, talking about them. “The middle-graders did a St. Patrick’s thing, and there was a decent Magic: The Gathering showing. But the book club is gaining speed, too. They read An Ember in the Ashes and talked about parallels to modern politics and Roman history. I’m so proud of them.”
“Have I mentioned how much I love you?” he asked, responding to the emotion in her voice.
She looked taken aback. Then she stared at him, glowing. “I always love hearing it,” she said. “Almost as much as I love you.”
They stood like that for a moment, grinning at each other, just happy in each other’s company.
“So,” she continued, “the grant the library got — it’s covering a lot of things I hadn’t even realized. We’re going to be opening the Native American art and cultural exhibit, we’ll have some money for a remodel, even another position. And I was able to get new shelves for the YA books we got. The teens, and the adults, are thrilled.”
She undressed as she talked, unselfconsciously. She stripped out of her blouse, tossing it in the laundry basket, then shimmied out of her skirt and stockings. She was just in her bra and underwear.
Drill felt his mouth water, book forgotten.
“What about you?” she asked, with a small smile. “Do anything interesting while I was gone?”
“Not as interesting as I’m about to be doing,” he said, his voice rough and low. “C’mere.”
She laughed again, her eyes twinkling. “Why, Drill,” she said, with a fake Southern accent, “I do believe you’re trying to seduce me.”
“No try about it,” he said, and kissed her.
About the Author
Cathy Yardley is an award-winning author of romance, chick lit, and urban fantasy, who has sold over 1.2 million copies worldwide. She writes fun, geeky, and diverse characters who believe that underdogs can make good and sometimes being a little wrong is just right. She spends her time writing in the wilds of East Seattle, riding herd on her two dogs, one son, and one husband.
Website: http://www.cathyyardley.com
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/CathyYardleyAuthor/
Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/6777.Cathy_Yardley
Twitter: @cathyyardley
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Find Smartypants Romance online:
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1. Sneak Peek of Shelf Awareness, Book #4 in the Green Valley Library Series by Katie Ashley
Sneak Peek: Shelf Awareness, Book #4 in the Green Valley Library Series
By Katie Ashley
Turning left and right, I stared at my reflection in the three-way mirror. For the first time in a long time, I liked the woman I saw. This woman didn’t scowl at her image. She wore a coy, yet confident smile. Her body, which had been recently transformed by a thirty-pound weight loss and strenuous fitness training, fit nicely into a black bustier and lacy panty set. She could finally see light between her thighs, now adorned with sexy thigh-highs.
With a nod, I gave my reflectio
n a goofy thumbs-up along with a toothy grin. I stopped just short of doing some sort of happy dance. Normally, I wasn’t into such displays of self-appreciation. I wasn’t a glass half-empty gal when it came to self-esteem, but more like, “Wait, there’s a glass?” But today was different. Today wasn’t your run-of-the-mill Thursday. Today signaled the day I took my marriage back.
At the thought of Grant, I exclaimed, “Shit!” I didn’t have to glance at my fitness watch to know I needed to get going or I would be late. Furiously, I threw my dress on over my lingerie. After tugging on the hem to make sure I wouldn’t be mooning the day spa’s clientele, I grabbed my purse and hustled to the door.
Exiting the dressing room, I powerwalked down the hall. I didn’t normally spend a Thursday decadently getting sea salt wraps and stone massages. Thursdays, along with the rest of the weekdays, were spent in my office. I was Chief Editor for the Atlanta Journal and Constitution. Today I’d been encouraged by my husband, who worked for the AJC’s parent company, Cox Communications, to take a day for myself at the spa.
I’d seen it as the perfect opportunity to enact the plan that had been stewing in my mind for the last month. It was a sex specific plan. Considering I couldn’t remember the last time Grant and I had had sex, it had become an all-out battle plan, which I had named Operation Seduction. If everything went along with my well-thought out plan, Operation Seduction wasn’t the only thing going down tonight, if you catch my drift.
As I walked out into the perfect, sunny day, I couldn’t fight my rising excitement for getting home to enact Operation Seduction. Instead of the marriage cliché of the seven-year-itch, Grant and I had been experiencing a five-year one. If I was honest, it had started somewhere in the middle of year four. That was the year we started trying for a baby, which so far had turned into an unsuccessful venture. After the obligatory unsuccessful year had passed, we sought treatment at a fertility clinic six months ago. A barrage of intrusive procedures later, and we had a discouraging diagnosis: unexplained infertility. Everything should have been working perfectly, but it wasn’t.
Before heading down the road of IUIs and IVF, Grant was encouraged to wear boxers instead of his usual briefs to free up his swimmers while I had been instructed to lose a little weight. As a naturally driven person, I’d hired a personal trainer to help me shed the pounds and become healthier. Xavier was the stereotypical personal trainer with pecs that rivaled my B cups, abs you could grate cheese on, and thighs the size of tree trunks. But he wasn’t just a perfect body. No, with his chiseled good looks, he made you wet with more than just sweat. Of course, he wasn’t only out of my league with how impossibly beautiful he was, there was also the fact he was gay.
A few days ago at my weekly weigh-in with Xavier, I’d met my goal loss of thirty pounds. When my ovulation calculator highlighted my upcoming peak fertility days, I knew it was time to ramp it up and get it on. That’s when the plan for Operation Seduction formed in my mind.
As I maneuvered my SUV through midtown Atlanta’s notorious traffic, I wanted to stay in the zone, and I knew just the thing to do that. “Siri, play the Seduction Playlist.” A few seconds later Marvin Gaye’s Sexual Healing began pumping through the car. I nodded my head to the beat.
Easing up to the red light, I tapped my thumbs on the steering wheel. Throwing my head back, I belted, “When I get that feeling, I want sexual healing.”
I glanced over to see the elderly couple beside me staring open-mouthed at me. Normally, I would have whipped the volume down on the radio while simultaneously sliding down the seat to hide. I tended to care too much about what others, even strangers, thought of me. It drove my husband crazy.
But not today. I was on too much of an adrenaline kick for that. Instead, I just nodded my head at them. Oh yeah, folks, I’m getting me some sexual healing tonight. Some of that good ol’ D in my box.
Ew. Had I really just made the vagina/box analogy? Thankfully, the light turned green, and I sped off toward home. Three years ago, Grant and I had sold our house in the burbs to move closer to the city even though it was pricey. We’d ended up in a condo community in Sandy Springs close to work.
After I eased the car into my deeded space, I grabbed my purse before flinging open the car door. Flashing my key fob at the security panel, I headed inside to the bank of elevators. I took the first one to the fifth floor.
As I stepped off the elevator, I somewhat lamented the lack of a personal garage and grass and a mailbox where, after grabbing the mail, I’d throw my hand up at my neighbor driving by. Grant loved to tease me about being old-fashioned. It’s what he constantly called me when he’d broached the idea of moving into a condo. He’d finally worn me down with his arguments about how much more practical it was to live in a condo where he didn’t have to worry about cutting the grass, and we had access to a gym and a pool.
When I entered the front door, I tossed my keys and purse on the entrance table. I headed into the bedroom to get started on part one of my seduction plan. But the sound of the shower running sent me skidding to a stop. Shit! Grant was already home. That meant I was going to have to curb some aspects of my seduction plan, like the trail of rose petals into the bedroom and the flickering candles lighting the room.
Instead, I would go straight for the big reveal of the plan aka my body. I stripped off my dress and hurriedly threw it in the hamper. As OCD as he was, Grant would’ve totally been taken out of the moment if he’d seen my dress crumpled on the floor.
After fluffing my hair, I brought my hand to my mouth and breathed into it. “Breath is good,” I murmured. Throwing a glance in the mirror over the chest of drawers, I checked my makeup. I’d totally splurged by having it professionally done at the spa. Although I considered myself a successful woman, I failed when it came to the application of makeup, especially since I had yet to master the art of highlighting and contouring. Not to mention fake lashes.
Once I was satisfied with my appearance, I climbed up on the bed. I tried out a few positions to surmise which one I would look sexiest in. At the sound of the water turning off, I quickly turned on my left side. I propped up on my elbow with my head supported by my hand.
When Grant entered the bedroom, I tossed my hair back and smiled at him over my shoulder. “Hey, baby,” I murmured in a breathy voice.
Inwardly, I did a victory dance at the look of pure shock on Grant’s face. Considering how huge his eyes got, I knew I was totally rocking it. Just as I started seductively running a hand down my body, it hit me. I shot straight up on the bed. “Wait, if you’re out here, who the hell is in the bathroom?”
Before Grant could answer me, the bathroom door creaked open. Frantically, I pitched forward to grab the decorative vase off the nightstand. It wasn’t much of a weapon, but it would have to do. At the sight of the potential intruder, I gasped. “X-Xavier?”
My personal trainer stood practically naked before me except for a low hanging towel wrapped around his waist. Ordinarily, I would have paused a moment to ogle the sight of the droplets of water sliding down his rock-hard abs, but I was too floored and had too many questions.
Xavier’s eyes widened almost as much as Grant’s had. “Um, hello, Finley.” His gaze flickered from my eyes to Grant’s and then back to mine.
Forgoing the usual pleasantries, I demanded, “What the hell are you doing naked in the middle of my bedroom?”
“I, uh . . .” Once again, Xavier threw a panic-stricken look at Grant. Why the hell did he seem so worried about Grant? Even if Grant was enraged at finding Xavier in our bedroom, which he didn’t appear to be, it wasn’t like Xavier couldn’t beat him in a fight. He had about two feet and thirty pounds on him. Besides, the two of them had met before, so it wasn’t like Grant was walking in on me with some stranger. I’m pretty sure Grant was aware Xavier was gay, so it wasn’t like he was a threat to our marriage.
But when I glanced at Grant to set him straight, his face revealed everything I never wanted to know. Life as I knew
it stopped in that moment. I was rocked to the very core of my being. The aftershocks were so intense they caused me to shudder.
Grant was having an affair. Grant was having an affair with my personal trainer. Grant was cheating on me with another man.
Holy fucking hell.
“I’m sorry, Finley. I never meant for any of this to happen,” Grant said.
I jerked my head to stare at him. Since the synapses in my brain had short-circuited, I could only blink in response. The realizations of the last few seconds had rendered me incapacitated. Like someone in a coma when you ask them to blink once for yes and twice for no. My mind had shut down in a vain attempt at self-preservation.
“We certainly never meant to hurt you,” Xavier said.
Slowly, I swiveled my gaze to him. “You . . .” Once again, I found myself incapable of articulating my emotions. In spite of being unable to vocalize my feelings, my internal monologue was shouting itself hoarse.
How do you have the audacity to say you didn’t mean to hurt me?
What else would I experience but hurt when I learned you and my husband had been sleeping together? It sure as hell wasn’t euphoria or even relief. It was pure unadulterated hurt.
Although there was a slew of other things both my mind and I wanted to say to him, I merely replied, “Get. Out.”
He had the gall to appear wounded at my declaration. “For what it’s worth, Finley, you look absolutely amazing. We really worked a miracle in the last few months.”
With clenched fists, I threw my head back, and with all the courage I could muster, I shouted, “GET OUT!”
Apparently, I mustered a lot because Xavier scrambled back into the bathroom so fast he almost fell on his ass. Under other circumstances, I would have found it comical. After snatching his clothes off the floor, he rushed past me and then out the bedroom door. Apparently, I was pretty imposing because he didn’t stop to put his clothes on since I heard the front door quickly slam.
Prose Before Bros Page 27
