Kisses Between the Lines: An Echo Ridge Anthology (Echo Ridge Romance Book 2)

by Lucy McConnell

  “I’ll admit, it is a really great idea,” Milo said. “Getting everyone to find the books that the library needs to expand.”

  Britta smiled. She liked how good-natured Milo was. He seemed to always look for the best in each person and situation. Every time there had been a potentially nerve-wracking incident, Milo handled it with a cool finesse that pleasantly surprised her. Britta’s father was a boisterous table-banging complainer who accomplished what needed done in a brusque manner. Britta loved her father, but often wished for a closer relationship that his prickly exterior didn’t allow. Milo exuded a calm surety and direction that eased Britta’s nerves.

  He cleared his throat, and Britta realized that her mind had just wandered down memory lane again while Milo was probably waiting for her to respond. “You’re right. Marian is fantastic in the library. She has a great eye for what needs done to push Echo Ridge to the next level.”

  Milo nodded and thankfully didn’t ask where Britta’s mind had been. He took a step closer to Britta’s desk. “There is one bookshop that I haven’t visited yet, because I didn’t know about it.”

  “Oh, which one?” There were only two bookstores that she knew of within twenty miles of Echo Ridge.

  “I’m surprised that the librarian didn’t think of this before me,” Milo teased.

  “Well, are you going to tell me or not?”

  “Second Chances— the thrift store. I was talking to Carlos Rodriguez the other day, and he found his book there. He said there were hundreds of books.”

  Britta put a palm to her head. “Of course, why didn’t I think of that before?”

  “Missing the inspiration, maybe?” Milo spoke quietly so that she barely caught his words, but she heard the meaning and Britta’s cheeks flushed.

  “I wonder if my book would be there.” The moment the words came out of her mouth, she knew what Milo had been planning all along. It was a trap and she’d taken the bait.

  The corner of his mouth tilted up. “Let’s go and check right now. Your shift is over, isn’t it?”

  The way his sapphire eyes focused on hers felt like he was seeing inside her soul. It melted away every principle Britta had bricked up in her wall. Milo held out his hand, his palm facing upwards. All she had to do was nod and take his hand. In that one simple gesture, she could cross a chasm that up until this moment felt thousands of miles wide. Memories flashed through her mind. What about her resolve to stay away from Milo and all that his German roots threatened?

  He smiled, and a strange emotion tapped against her heart. Desire. She wanted to go with Milo. The world shifted, and Milo’s heritage didn’t seem so threatening. For a moment, she just saw Milo. A man with a heart for music and an open door for Britta.

  Britta gulped and walked through the figurative door. She put her hand in Milo’s. “I’d love to.”

  There was a flicker of surprise in Milo’s eyes, but he recovered quickly. “Do you mind if I drive?”

  The weather had changed, and a chill wind gusted against the windows. Britta zipped up her jacket. “That would be a good idea, I think.”

  Milo opened the door to his car and helped Britta inside. She clutched her purse in front of her, unsure of what was happening to her heart. It hammered against her chest as Milo slid in and started the car. Music filled the interior of the car immediately.

  “Sorry about that. I always have it up too loud.” Milo flicked the music off.

  “Oh, you didn’t have to turn it off,” Britta said.

  Milo smiled and pushed a button; the music flooded the car again, and he turned it down. Britta sat for a moment, listening until she recognized the singer’s voice. “This is Coldplay, isn’t it?”

  Milo nodded. “I just got their new album. Do you like it?”

  “Yes, I love that band,” Britta said. “I haven’t heard this song.”

  “I like their style, and I especially like the piano emphasis they have in their music,” Milo said. He pulled out of the library parking lot and headed a few blocks northwest to the Second Chances thrift store.

  “You hear music differently than the average person, don’t you?”

  Milo turned to her, a curious expression on his face. “What do you mean?”

  “Well, you just mentioned how you liked the piano, but I didn’t even really notice it until you pointed it out. Because you know so many instruments, you can hear how they create the whole piece of music.”

  “I hadn’t thought of it that way, but I guess you’re right. I like how the piano interacts with the electric guitar and the different harmonies of the vocalists.” Milo tapped the steering wheel to the beat of the song. “It brings back memories of singing with my brothers.”

  Britta leaned back and focused on the song, content to listen. She liked that the pause in conversation with Milo didn’t feel awkward.

  They pulled up to the entrance of Second Chances before the next song ended, and Milo hurried to open the door for her. She enjoyed waiting, letting him be a gentleman, and she even tucked her hand in the arm he offered as they walked into the thrift store together.

  A familiar musty smell assaulted her nostrils as they passed a cardboard box filled with mittens and scarves priced for only one dollar each. Milo headed to the back of the store, as if he was confident of the layout.

  “I think I’ve only been in here once before,” Britta said. “It’s bigger than I thought.”

  “I’ve come a few times to get things for my house. Sometimes you find a deal.”

  There were three rickety bookshelves crammed with books with no apparent rhyme or reason. Britta groaned. “Maybe this isn’t a good idea. Did you forget I work in a library?”

  Milo chuckled. “Yes, but we’re going to live on the edge for a few minutes, away from your structure and order.”

  “Hey!” Britta took a step away and crouched in front of the books. “I deal with disorder every day.”

  Milo grunted but didn’t say anything. She bit the inside of her cheek so he wouldn’t see her smile. She scanned the shelves as efficiently as she could, searching for both of their books. Milo knocked down a pile of books teetering on the edge of one shelf and grumbled. She chuckled and ran her fingers along the spines, scanning titles quickly. There were lots of old books that could probably be labeled as classics, but Britta didn’t see the one she needed.

  “Hmm, I don’t know if we’re going to find anything, but this is one of my favorite children’s books.” Britta held up a tattered copy of The Miraculous Journey of Edward Tulane by Kate DiCamillo.

  Milo leaned back on his feet and lifted an eyebrow. “Is that a book about a rabbit?”

  Britta held out the book and tapped the cover. “Yes, and no. It’s a china rabbit, but this book is about so many things. Mostly the discovery of who Edward Tulane was and what was most important.” She turned the book back to face her and let her fingers trace the edges of the little china rabbit. It had taken a lifetime of journeys, but he’d discovered true happiness. Would it take a journey for her to find the same thing, or was he sitting at her feet in front of a crowded and dusty bookshelf?

  Milo tilted his head to the side. Some emotion flickered across his face, and he looked at Britta with such intensity, she wondered for a moment if she’d spoken her thoughts aloud. “I bet a few of my nieces and nephews have read that book. They’re always reading.” He said it with a wistful tone, as if he wished he could go back in time and read it as a child too.

  Britta handed the book to him. “You should get it in case they haven’t read it. Maybe you could read it to them.”

  Milo swallowed and tentatively reached out his hand. “My sister reads to her kids all the time. She says it’s one of the best times of the day.”

  Britta nodded. “It was for me.” She thought of her mother and father reading the Bible in German. The words had held great comfort to her, and still there were days when a verse would pop into her head to comfort her in times of stress or anxiety. The text wa
s always in German, usually in her mother’s lilting voice.

  Milo still sat on the floor next to the bookshelf, but he seemed so close to her in that moment. In his eyes, she could see a yearning that she wanted to fill, but she didn’t know if it was a yearning for her, or something from his childhood.

  The air around them was charged with emotion, too much for her weak heart. Britta turned and continued her search, thinking that the ghosts of books around them were calling out their stories to the two would-be lovers who were within arm’s reach of each other. If only she could be brave like the heroines she’d read about who opened their heart to a chance at love. She glanced at Milo out of the corner of her eye, carefully checking each title. Maybe she had more courage than she thought.

  She’d finished with the second bookshelf and was moving onto the next when Milo said, “Hey, isn’t this the book you were supposed to find?” He pulled a hardback book off the shelf. The dust jacket was torn down the front and folded back. He smoothed the stiff paper, and Britta could clearly read the title of The Book Thief.

  “I can’t believe it.” Britta took the book carefully from Milo’s hands. “Right here in Echo Ridge all along. I searched all the online sites and couldn’t find a used hardcover for some reason.” She flipped through the pages. The book was in excellent condition. All dust jackets were laminated and secured to the library books, so the tear on the front would be an easy fix.

  Milo grinned. “That’s a great book, and the movie was pretty decent too.”

  “Wait a minute,” Britta said. “You’ve read this book and seen the movie?”

  Milo shrugged. “It was kind of a family thing. My younger brother read the book first and insisted that we all read it. It was a great story, so after we all read it we rented the movie and had a big family party.” He looked at Britta and squinted. “Wait, haven’t you read this book and seen the movie?”

  Britta bit her bottom lip and looked at the book in her hand. She’d never admit the real reason why she hadn’t read the book. “I always meant to get around to it, but if you saw my stack of books to read, you’d understand.”

  “Sure, sure,” Milo said. “I just thought of all the books, a German librarian would have definitely read this one.” Milo tapped the spine of the book Britta held. “Are you going to read it before you give it to Marian?”

  “I— uh …” Britta couldn’t think of a reasonable excuse. “I’m not sure I’ll have time with all that I have to do for the Harvest Hurrah.”

  There was a glint to his eyes, a challenge that Britta could feel coming. “I dare you to read The Book Thief.”

  Britta’s throat clenched, and her heart beat against her rib cage with a threatening melody. How could Milo see her so easily? She lifted her chin. “Do you have any idea how many books I’m reading right now?”

  “No, do you?”

  “Probably six, I don’t know,” Britta sputtered.

  “Let’s make a deal. If you don’t get this book read by Marian’s deadline, you have to watch the movie with me. On a date.” Britta laughed, but Milo was serious. He held out his hand. “Deal?”

  It was exactly the reason she’d told Milo no so many times before. Once she let her guard down, the gate to her heart was open, and it would be nearly impossible to oust the handsome piano man who had the uncanny ability to see her as no one had before. Britta huffed and shook his hand. “Deal.”

  Milo smiled as if he’d won, but he didn’t know how fast she read books. “Wipe that smirk off your face,” she told him. “I can read three books to your every one. This won’t be a challenge at all.”

  “Oh, I know,” Milo said, still smiling.

  “But why— ?”

  “It’s too bad they didn’t have Little Women.” Milo interrupted. “I guess Marian will have to accept a late copy.”

  “Hey, if I have to read my book, then you should have to read yours too,” Britta said.

  “I guess I could check it out from the library later on,” Milo said.

  “That sounds noncommittal.”

  Milo chuckled. “That’s funny, coming from you.”

  Britta gasped and Milo laughed harder. She found herself joining in his deep rumbling laughter. They teased and smiled all the way to the cash register. Milo insisted on buying her book along with his children’s book since he found it first. Britta burst out laughing again when he counted out change for the total of one dollar and eighty-one cents. “Thanks for finding my book. I’m glad you convinced me to come shopping.”

  Milo took her arm and guided her toward his car. “Can I convince you to stop by Fay’s for some pumpkin spice cocoa?”

  “Is she serving that again? That’s my favorite.” Britta almost clapped a hand over her mouth. How did she keep falling into Milo’s traps so easily? She started to shake her head.

  “After that look, I won’t take no for an answer. You’re practically drooling.”

  “I am not.” Britta tried to keep her voice from pitching high like it did when her brother teased her.

  “Oh, yes.” Milo leaned in close to her and whispered. “I think you are.”

  He had meant it to be funny, but when he stood close to her it was like plugging in a strand of twinkling lights. Britta’s insides filled with that sparkling light and she wanted to breathe him in. Something shifted inside, and she realized that she’d had more fun in the last hour with Milo than she’d had in weeks. “Okay, yes. Let’s get some cocoa.”

  She loved that every time she said yes, Milo looked surprised, like he expected her to turn him down again. Maybe dating Milo wasn’t as dangerous as she thought. Britta rehearsed her principles and took a deep breath. Milo was an American. He hadn’t brought up his German heritage specifically. He’d just talked about his family, like any person would. It was probably past time for Britta to remove the chip on her shoulder, partially caused by her meddling mother.

  When Milo helped her in the car and closed the door, Britta smiled. It felt good to say yes.

  WHEN BRITTA SAID YES, Milo had a flashback of the footage of the Berlin Wall coming down. He’d have to tell Elise that she was smarter than he thought. Britta did have a wall up, but on the way over to Fay’s she had seemed much more relaxed and at ease with him.

  He helped her from the car again, enjoying the way her hand fit just right in the crook of his elbow. She was about a head shorter than him— perfect for resting that head against his shoulder. Milo stopped the daydreams and reminded himself to stay calm and cool. He didn’t want to blow this chance.

  Once they were seated and sipping their hot cocoa, Milo asked, “So what do you do with your extra time when you’re not planning a huge fundraiser for the entire town?”

  Britta stared at him over the steaming mug. She cupped her hands around the porcelain and breathed in the spicy cocoa. “I love cuddling up with a cup of tea and reading a good book. What do you like to do besides music?”

  He shrugged. “Guess I’m kind of boring, but that’s the thing I crave. Music. I love coaxing out a melody from nowhere. I like listening to all sorts of music.”

  “Sounds like we’re both not far removed from our work.”

  Milo swallowed, savoring the hints of pumpkin in his cocoa. “True. I keep telling myself I need to branch out more, but …”

  “Hard to find the right branch?” Britta arched an eyebrow.

  Milo chuckled. “I’m helping with the Oktoberfest next Saturday. Serving up brats and sauerkraut. How about you? Did the German club hunt you down and ask for your help?”

  Britta cleared her throat. “I don’t think they’d dare to ask me with all the work I have. Besides, they probably don’t even know I’m German.”

  Milo leaned back against the booth. “I think they know. It’s hard to miss.”

  Britta stiffened. “What do you mean by that?”

  What had he said? Something had pricked Britta’s side, because she was nearly wincing with the effort of not appearing outright upset.
Milo thought quickly of how he could salvage the conversation— hard to do when he wasn’t sure where he’d got off track in the first place. “Well, it’s obvious you’re a classic German beauty. Blond hair, blue eyes, lovely straight lines of your eyebrows— ” He reached out a finger and tapped the end of her nose. “— and that nose.”

  Britta leaned back and rubbed her nose. “What about my nose? There’s nothing German about my nose.”

  Milo laughed. “I must be biased, but when I think of a beautiful German woman, I see you.”

  Britta blushed and ducked her head. “You’re just saying that.”

  “I’m saying it to you.” Milo waited until she lifted her eyes to meet his. He smiled, and she softened a fraction, then leaned forward and took another sip of cocoa. Milo relaxed and ventured forward in the conversation. “Tell me something else about you.”

  “I have a cat. His name is Norman.”

  Milo sputtered into his cup. “Sorry. I don’t know why that’s funny, but it is.”

  Britta joined him, her laugh clear and bright. “It is funny, but I can’t take the credit. The man who lived next door was moving and wanted me to keep his cat, so that’s how Norman and I met.”

  “You know, you could play a funny joke on someone with that name and that story if you left out the part that Norman is a cat.”

  Britta looked up at the ceiling, considering his words. A grin spread slowly across her face. “You’re right.”

  Milo leaned forward. “You could say, ‘Hey, I can’t wait for you to meet my friend Norman. One of my neighbors moved and Norman decided to stay. We’ve been together ever since.’”

  Britta burst out laughing. “If only my mom didn’t already know Norman. I would totally use that one on her.”