Bigfoot and the Librarian

by Linda Winstead Jones

  And on Saturday night, he was going to woo her. He would probably feed her tomato sandwiches and woo her right out of her pants. She should cancel the date here and now. Her dignity was at stake, after all.

  Who was she kidding? After yesterday she had no dignity left. She just had an itch that made her wonder why Clint was waiting until Saturday to woo her. She wouldn’t mind being wooed right now.

  Unlocking the library door after yesterday’s excitement gave her a moment’s pause. The note had been terrifying! There had been nothing else but that note, so maybe it had been a prank, as Clint had suggested. A sick prank, but still, she was not in danger.

  She was not in danger.

  She was not in danger.

  It became a mantra as she prepared for the day.

  Marnie didn’t think today would be any busier than the first few days had been, but tonight was the reception to welcome her to town, so she expected Susan to be around in the afternoon, making preparations for the event. Was it an event? Probably not. There was unlikely to be more than a handful of locals, punch, and finger sandwiches. Pimento cheese. Maybe chicken salad.

  And Clint. Susan had specifically mentioned their local author when she’d proposed the welcoming event.

  Getting involved with Clint, or anyone else, was a bad idea. It had just been a few weeks since she’d ended her relationship with Jay. Ending it had been her idea, but still, she should take time to contemplate her next romantic step. Then again, wasn’t every girl allowed a rebound guy and some mind-blowing sex before moving forward in a more thoughtful and sedate manner?

  She hadn’t had time to check her email at home this morning, since after a restless night she’d overslept. Once she was settled at the front desk, the door unlocked and ready for the patrons she didn’t expect to materialize, she opened her laptop, connected to the library Wi-Fi, and clicked the appropriate keys. She planned to stay right here where she could see the front door, while she was on the computer. Eventually she’d have to go to the restroom, taking her well away from the library entrance, but there was nothing to be done for that. She could lock the door for those short trips, she imagined. Just to be on the safe side.

  There was a long email from her friend Chelsea, bemoaning again the fact that Marnie had left Birmingham, and going on about the latest in a string of unacceptable boyfriends. Chelsea had worse luck with men than Marnie did.

  There was also a message from her mother, which had no information to offer. Just questions, in response to Marnie’s email about the move. Have you made friends? What’s the house like? Are you eating? As if that had ever been a problem!

  What her mother didn’t ask was Are you about to sleep with a man you just met?

  Marnie scanned the subject headers, searching amongst the ads and spam for a response from the Bigfoot expert, Lovell. Nada. Just as well. The more she thought about it, the more she became convinced her imagination had run amok. On the way into town it had been hot, and the flat tire had flustered her. She should not be shocked that the stress of the move combined with that unpleasant excitement had caused her to hallucinate the creature a second time, beyond her back fence. Could’ve been a shadow that set off her imagination, maybe even a bear. There were more and more bear sightings in the news lately.

  Her logical brain told her there was no such thing as Bigfoot. She was usually logical.

  As she closed her laptop and stored it on a low shelf, she dismissed all logic and started thinking about what she might wear tomorrow night…

  Chapter 10

  Clint had planned to go to the library well ahead of the welcome reception, but he didn’t. The shift was close; it was all but upon him. His spine tingled. His limbs itched and his heart raced. He didn’t lose control anymore, he shifted only when he wanted to, but somehow Marnie had stirred him up, deep down. He’d allowed a woman he barely knew to turn his life upside down.

  When he was stressed, he turned to the forest. Nothing soothed him the way a long run in his Dyn Gwallt form did.

  Still, he hadn’t lost control in a very long time, and he wouldn’t now.

  He accepted and even liked who he was, what he was, but he’d worked to gain complete control. When that tingle at his neck came, he was able to stop it. He had learned to tell the creature inside himself, “Later. Be patient. Your time will come but not here, not now.” It was uncomfortable but here, in the place that was and always would be his home, he was who and what he wanted to be.

  He did that now; he reasoned with the creature. He tamped down the instinct to shift. The pain, the urge, they would go away soon enough. After a few uncomfortable moments he gave up. Why deny himself? The lava tingled down his spine. He cursed out loud, but the sound was garbled.

  Giving in to what was coming, Clint stripped down and threw his clothes onto his bed. He opened the french doors and stepped onto the deck, which had a view of the woods. The deck he’d built himself was a great place for coffee in the morning, for reading, for working, and for embracing who he was.

  When the hair started to grow, it tickled. Then, for a few seconds, it actually hurt. His legs grew longer, and that hurt a little, too. He was accustomed to the pain, and did not mind it. When his penis drew entirely into his body it didn’t hurt, but the sensation was odd, like no other he had ever experienced. He was tall as a man, but the creature was taller by close to two feet. His hands grew bigger, his face longer.

  When the shift was complete, Clint whooped once and then leapt over the deck railing. He landed gently, for one of his size, and ran deeper into the woods.

  This was what he loved most about who he was. He was strong, he was fast, he was a part of nature as much as the trees around him and the river he ran toward. In spite of his weight he made little noise, and still birds and other small beings fled, they scattered to escape the unnatural creature who had invaded their home.

  No, his home. Clint Maxwell might be a successful author, he might sometimes try to deny who he was, but when he ran through the woods in this state he felt as if he belonged. He was free. He was king of this forest. He was Dyn Gwallt. And no matter how he wished it to be so, Marnie would never accept this part of him.

  He dismissed all thoughts of the librarian and ran.

  Marnie wasn’t sure what she’d expected from the welcome reception, but this definitely wasn’t it.

  There were four town council members in attendance, in addition to Susan Tisdale. Two of them were the rude old coots she’d seen in Harry’s bar Monday night, and they were no friendlier on Friday than they’d been on Monday. Susan introduced them simply as Jim and George. Marnie wasn’t sure she’d be able to tell them apart, in a pinch. Both were gray-haired and of a similar age. They were wiry but not much taller than she was, and they had deeply wrinkled faces and what seemed to be permanent scowls. And the way they stared! She went to the restroom once to check and see if she had food stuck in her teeth, maybe a bit of tomato from her lunch. She did not.

  She’d thought the refreshments might consist of punch, nuts, and mints, maybe finger sandwiches, but no. Even though Susan looked and acted normal enough, she definitely did not throw a normal party.

  That’s what it was, really; a party. There was wine, and a big pitcher of cucumber water for those who didn’t like wine. Who didn’t like wine? Marnie really, really wanted wine, but she started off with a big glass of the water. She didn’t want to be known as the tipsy librarian. There was also a big tub of ice filled with beer situated near the front desk. Jim and George had walked directly to that tub after they’d been introduced. Marnie could almost bet that tub of beer was the only reason they’d come. They certainly hadn’t been interested in meeting her.

  The food consisted of a platter of huge sandwiches, two cheese pizzas, onion rings, and — as the stash grew — enough wine to supply half of Birmingham with a decent buzz. People came into the library, finally. Some introduced themselves and said hello, while others ignored her. She suspected they were
here for the alcohol. The critter guy arrived, said hello and shook her hand, ate and then disappeared. Gabi was there with baby Mia. Like Marnie, she went with the cucumber water but obviously wanted the wine.

  They talked for a few minutes, but when the baby got fussy Gabi excused herself. Marnie walked to the door with her, sad to see a woman she might be friends with go so soon, and discovered that the party had seeped out onto the sidewalk and even into the street. She hadn’t seen anywhere near this many people during her days in Mystic Springs. Free alcohol and food were apparently what it took to get the residents to the library. She glanced up and down the street. Well, at least close to the library.

  More pizza and sandwiches appeared; the wine and beer were both refreshed. Someone set up a small but impressive sound system in front of the hardware store and cranked up the music, and dancing began. In the street. Where had all these people come from?

  Marnie had not met the mayor of Mystic Springs, or even heard her name mentioned, but the older lady was present tonight. Frannie Smith wore a tiara atop frizzy, obviously dyed, black hair. She’d chosen to wear a red silk dress for the occasion. The tiara sat crookedly on her head, and the dress was a size or two too large. The hem dragged on the ground, perhaps because she wore no shoes. She carried a small cake in wrinkled hands.

  The reception had been intended to welcome Marnie, or at least that’s what she’d been told, but this looked like a street fair. Did these take place often, she wondered? Would any old excuse for a party do?

  Marnie looked for Clint, but didn’t see him anywhere. That was disappointing, more disappointing than it should be considering that she’d just met him. She didn’t know him well enough to be crushed that he wasn’t here, even though they’d kissed and she’d considered sleeping with him soon. Very, very soon. Tomorrow, after she’d been properly wooed.

  His disturbing absence finally drove her to the wine. Merlot was her favorite, and thank the heavens there were a couple of big bottles just waiting for her. She poured a big glass. She would’ve thought plastic cups would be used at a party like this one, but no. A folding table had been set with rows of nice, long-stemmed crystal. That table was on the sidewalk right outside the library door. It seemed like a dangerous setup, but so far nothing had been broken.

  She took a long drink, determined to be careful not to drop the fine crystal. When that glass was empty, she poured another. Why worry about getting tipsy in a crowd where at least eighty percent were already there, or beyond?

  She turned around to look in the other direction for the missing Clint, and found herself face to face with the Mayor. Marnie jumped a little, and some Merlot splashed on her blouse and onto the sidewalk. That was not the impression she wanted to make.

  Frannie Smith smiled widely and lifted the cake so that it almost touched Marnie’s nose. “I made this just for you,” the mayor said with a lilt of joy in her wavering voice.

  The cake looked and smelled delicious. That was cream cheese icing, if she wasn’t mistaken. Dammit, she’d been thinking of cake since she got into town and finally, here it was. Still, it would take two hands to hold the cake properly, and Marnie didn’t want to loosen her hold on the wine glass. She was considering her options, and thinking of having cake for breakfast in the morning, when Clint swooped in and took the tempting offering from the mayor’s hands.

  “That looks fantastic,” he said, and then he dropped the cake onto the sidewalk. Icing side down. “Darn. I’m so clumsy.”

  Mayor Frannie sighed, looked up at Clint, and then shook her finger. “You always were a troublemaker.”

  “No argument there.” He smiled, and then he took Marnie’s arm and led her away from the mayor, back toward the library. When they were several feet away, he whispered, “If she brings you another cake, take it, thank her, and then throw it away.”

  Marnie laughed. “That bad?”

  “Worse than you can imagine. Promise me you won’t eat it.” He opened the door for her and stepped back to allow her to enter ahead of him.

  Confused, she promised.

  They had the library to themselves. The food and drink — all but the cucumber water — and the people, had all moved outside as the sun set and the day cooled. Still, the air conditioning felt good.

  “About tomorrow night…” Clint began. He plucked the wine glass from her hand and placed it on the front desk, where she sat day after day waiting for the residents of this weird town to come in and pick out a freakin’ book.

  Marnie spun around, her heart pounding, her body tingling from head to toe. “I know what you’re going to say.” She went up on her toes and kissed him lightly before adding. “I don’t want to wait, either.”

  Chapter 11

  He’d walked to the library with every intention of calling off their scheduled date, and here he was with Marnie wrapped around him. She’d all but dragged him to the history aisle, where they’d be out of sight if anyone came through the front door. No one was likely to intrude. The fun was all beyond this room. Well, not all…

  Muted noises from the party on the street seemed far away, as Marnie touched him, kissed him, lifted one leg to wrap around his.

  There was not a single coherent word left in Clint’s head, and it wasn’t because the shift was coming, not this time. It was her. She robbed him of his senses, made him want to take chances he should not, could not, take.

  One of her hands settled over his zipper, and a thought stopped him cold. “I don’t have a condom with me.”

  “I’m on the pill.”

  He wondered why but didn’t ask, and still she continued.

  “I had a serious boyfriend for a while, and just kept on with the precaution.” She looked up at him, those big brown eyes so deep and filled with wanting that he almost melted to the floor. “You didn’t think I was a virgin, did you?”

  “No.”

  That hand over his zipper stroked. “I don’t want to wait, not even until tomorrow night. I want you, Clint. Here and now.”

  Maybe he’d come here with doubts about Marnie and what she was doing to him, maybe he had come into town with the best of intentions, but he was no saint, and dammit he wanted her, too. “We could go…”

  She unfastened his jeans. “Here and now. I’m pretty sure it won’t take long.”

  Her hand slipped inside his unzipped jeans and he dismissed everything but Marnie and what they both wanted. No, this wouldn’t take long at all.

  He would not lay her on the floor. She deserved better. She deserved a soft bed and hours of attention. But they didn’t have a bed, and they didn’t have hours. He reached beneath her skirt and slipped her underwear down and off. She shimmied his jeans down. When he lifted her off her feet, she laughed, and then she moaned.

  Her legs around his waist, her arms around his neck, they came together. There was no more laughter, just an intense relief to finally be joined, and then a gentle motion, a sigh, and a drive to the end.

  She was his, he felt it to the bottom of his soul. All his doubts melted away. Marnie was wrapped around him, lost in desire as he was. There was nothing but this. It was meant to be. She was his, now and forever. He didn’t just fuck Marnie, he claimed her as his own. With every thrust, he claimed her.

  She came fast and hard, throwing her head back and crying out softly. Only then did he allow himself to do the same.

  He held her in his arms for a long moment. Their hearts pounded; they’d both worked up a sweat. The desire that had driven them had faded, but it was not gone. He suspected it might never be gone.

  “I’ve never had sex in the library before,” she whispered.

  “Neither have I.”

  She moved her head back so she could look him in the face. He did not put her down. Not yet. “I imagine it will all be downhill from here,” she teased, as she gently brushed the hair off his forehead.

  He was not in the mood for teasing. A low growl escaped right before he assured her, “Don’t bet on it.”
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  Marnie cleaned herself in the restroom, checked her hair — which was a mess — and her lipstick — which was also a mess. She made repairs as best she could. What had come over her? She’d never been so impulsive. It was out of character for her to jump a man’s bones with such abandon. She could blame the wine, she supposed. The wine and the weirdness of this place, the party and the music. And Clint. He drove her nuts in a way no other man ever had. Just the sight of him made her a little crazy.

  Crazy enough to stay in Mystic Springs?

  He waited for her outside the restroom door. She was a mess, but he looked none the worse for wear. Of course, his hair was shorter than hers and he didn’t wear makeup, so there was that. He just stood there, casual as you please, his arms crossed over his chest, his eyes pinned on her. And there it was again, that deep and undeniable response.

  She wanted him again. And again.

  A young man Marnie had not yet met ran toward them, and for a moment she wondered if something was wrong. He definitely looked distressed. But the guy ran into the men’s room, shouting an explanation as he went. “Too much beer!”

  It had not even occurred to her that someone might walk in on them while they’d been occupied. Anyone going to the restrooms in the back of the library might’ve walked past the ancient history section and gotten an eyeful. It was testament to the depth of her desire for Clint that she had not even thought of that. Then again, maybe it was the wine… yes, always blame the wine…

  “I’m taking you home,” Clint said, his voice low and determined.

  Marnie’s heart skipped a beat. “Mine or yours?”

  “Yours is closer.”

  She should’ve cleaned her bedroom this morning…

  “When the Milhouse kid is out of the restroom, you’re going to see him out and lock the front door, and I’ll walk you home.”