by Leigh Landry
“Second floor,” she finally said. No crack in her stern expression.
She turned away to walk through the wide, colorful entrance of the brightly lit children’s department. Even from behind—maybe especially from behind—she made black dress pants and a sweater a hot look.
Shane grinned. If she thought the children’s section of a library would scare him off, she was sorely mistaken.
Although he probably should have let it scare him off. He didn’t have a clue why he was following her. Maybe he was taking a sign from the universe that was putting her in his path again. Maybe this was some kind of dragon magic at work. Maybe it was time for him to take a chance on something easy and fun.
Or maybe he was just an idiot and a complete sucker for this woman.
When she reached the information desk and realized he was right behind her, she startled. “Sorry, we have one Naomi Novik book here in our teen section, but it’s not the title you requested.”
“I know. But you’re here. And I’m here. And since we’re both here, I was wondering if you might want to go to lunch.”
Lunch sounded like a good idea. Casual. Uncomplicated.
Her eyes flashed with interest and her stern facade faded, but only for a brief second. “I already had lunch.”
Normally he would walk away right then. Cut his losses. Take the hint.
But there was a faint smile on her face. He loved that smile. That mouth. Something told him she was remembering Saturday night as fondly as he was. This had to be some kind of sign that the universe wanted him to have a little more fun in his life.
“Well then, how about dinner?”
She glanced around, then waved at a woman pushing a stroller while herding a little boy to the checkout counter. When they were out of earshot, she whispered, “Listen, you’re fun. Lots of fun. But I’m not looking for a…thing right now.”
“Can’t you have both fun and…a thing?”
She gave him a full smile now. God, he wanted to kiss that mouth of hers.
“Let me save you some time and trouble,” she said. “I’m incredibly stubborn. When my mind is made up, it’s made up.”
“Fair enough.” He leaned in close enough to whisper in her ear. “Then let me buy you a drink. Maybe more fun?”
When he pulled back, her mouth opened slightly, and she ran her tongue along the inside of her bottom lip. He suddenly had a whole bunch of newfound library fantasies.
“Fine,” she said. “Fun. But just fun. I don’t have time or emotional currency for anything else.”
“Understood. What time do you get off?” Completely intentional. He stopped short of patting himself on the back for that one.
She pressed her lips together to hide a laugh. “Six.”
“I’ll pick you up here at six, then.”
Natalie frowned. “Sorry. I can’t. I need to…I just remembered I can’t.”
“Are you trying to blow me off?”
“When I’m blowing you off, you’ll know it, I promise.”
He coughed into his hand and laughed. Another librarian came up to the desk and looked curiously between the two of them. Shane took a step back. “Tomorrow then. Meet me at the Cuban place downtown? At seven?”
She held his gaze, her eyes teasing and playful. She thought for a second, then said, “Fine.”
“Good.” He took another step backward. “I need my bat, anyway.”
Another smile crept across her face. That was definitely a look he could stand to see on her again.
When turned away from her, he allowed himself his own smile. It didn’t leave his face all the way up to the second floor.
Chapter Four
Shane arrived early and got a table in the bar for them. Casual. No pressure. Not a “real date” table.
The bar was decorated with beads and doubloons while Cuban music filled the room. A server took Shane’s drink order just as he spotted Natalie entering the restaurant. Shane stood when she approached the table.
“I brought you a present,” she said.
She was once again in tight jeans and cowboy boots, with a thick, brown coat to ward off the February wind. Her blonde hair draped over her shoulders, and she had on more makeup than he was used to seeing on her by now—sparkly purple eyeshadow to play off her crisp green eyes and shiny peach lip-gloss. Delicious.
She stood across the bar-top table and presented her offering with both hands: his baseball bat.
The server shifted nervously beside him. “Ma’am—”
“It’s fine,” Shane assured him, taking the bat from her and resting it on the floor against his chair.
“But I don’t think—”
“You didn’t have a no bats sign on the door, so yeah, I do think.”
The server looked at the bat again. Then, without making eye contact, he asked Natalie, “Can I get you something to drink?”
“A Cuban ginger.”
He scurried away, and Shane settled into his seat again, while Natalie shed her coat. She had on a fitted, long-sleeve black T-shirt with a v-neck, and a silver chain with a pendant of what looked like octopus tentacles hung from her neck. Odd choice, but it seemed to suit her.
Not that he knew at all what suited this woman. Not yet, at least.
“I thought you might not show up,” he said.
“I told you if I blew you off you’d know it.”
“I remember what you said. Still glad you showed up.”
She nodded at the bat beside him. “I had to return your bat.”
“And terrorize the server?”
She shrugged. “Bonus.”
They stared at each other for a while, which he guessed was slightly better than the awkward looking around the room that usually went with a first date. Although, this wasn’t exactly a first date. He didn’t know what this was, or what the other thing was, but staring into her green eyes across the table, he knew he wanted more of it.
“So,” he said when the awkwardness finally got to him, “how was librarying today?”
“Day off. I have to work next Saturday instead.”
“Ah, hope you had a good day off then?”
She shifted uncomfortably, appraising him. She looked as if she was deciding if he was worthy of whatever answer she had brewing on that tongue of hers. “It was fine. Mostly.”
“Mostly?”
The server returned and set down their drinks, the Cuban ginger for Natalie and a Cuba libre for Shane. “Would you like to order any appetizers?”
Natalie shook her head, so Shane answered, “Not just yet.” When the server left, Shane asked, “Not hungry or planning on ditching me now that you’ve handed off your weapon?”
“Late lunch.”
“Ah. Is that due to the ‘mostly’ part of the day you mentioned?”
Her mouth parted as she debated her words carefully. He wanted to walk over and cover those lips of hers with his own.
“I had to chaperone a field trip.” She paused again. “For my daughter.”
“Oh.”
He’d been expecting her to tell him she spent the day changing her tires or practicing her knife throwing, not hanging out with a bunch of school kids. Her kid.
Then again, she did work in the children’s department of a library. This woman had so many interesting layers to her, and despite having stripped off all her clothing the other night, he had a feeling he still had a long way to go to get to the real Natalie. Or at least to get the complete picture.
“Don’t worry, I’m not asking you to adopt us both as your new family. You can breathe again.”
He grinned. “It takes more than a kid to scare me off. How old?”
“Six.” Her face lit up with the word.
“Fun age. Where’d y’all go?”
The glow left her face. “Zoo.”
“So, like twenty-something six-year-olds?” Shane laughed. “Sounds traumatizing.”
“Kind of.” She seemed to relax a little, as she stirred h
er drink. “We did a head count on the bus. Came back with the same number we went there with. I don’t know if they’re the same kids, but it was the same number at least.”
“Sounds like a win to me.” He took a sip, then said, “Thanks for telling me that.” He couldn’t imagine how many times she’d probably had this reveal and how many times it had probably gone very badly.
She shrugged. “I’ve learned it’s better to be honest up front.”
“Right. Since we’re being honest…”
She stiffened and froze, still holding her straw, her defenses fully engaged.
He took a deep breath and told her the truth. “I have a cat. A kitten, actually.”
She stifled a laugh, and looked away as she shook her head. When she looked back, she raised a serious eyebrow. “A kitten, huh?”
He nodded. “I hope that isn’t an issue for you.”
“Wait, I don’t remember a cat the other night.”
“She’s tiny. I keep her in my bedroom when I’m gone, so she doesn’t get into too much trouble.”
“Good call.” She cleared her throat. “Well, thank you for being honest about that with me.”
“You’re welcome.” He raised his glass for a toast. “Here’s to tiny beings.”
She gave a small smile. It was wonderful and warm and he fucking loved it on her.
“To tiny beings and new friends.” She clinked her glass to his.
“Friends?”
“Would you prefer fuck buddies?”
The server froze and made a choking noise a couple feet away. Natalie turned to him, unfazed by his presence or his proximity to their conversation. “We’re still good,” she said coolly. He gave a quick nod and left again.
“Friends is fine,” Shane said.
Friends was decidedly not fine in Shane’s brain. But he was willing to follow her at whatever pace she was willing to take with him. The reveal about her kid should have scared him away. Hell, a week ago he’d have cut his losses long before this point. After whatever baggage she had Friday, a kid, and her obviously pushing him away or at least keeping him at a distance…none of those were good signs that this would be an uncomplicated situation.
After a disaster of a family blow-up and a couple of relationships with (unknown to him) unavailable women, he didn’t want anything but simple relationships anymore. Easy. Stress-free. Absolutely no drama.
But despite all of that, he felt comfortable around Natalie. She was easy to talk to, and their playful banter was one hell of a turn-on. For the first time in months, he felt like he could relax and have a little fun while he got to know someone. He didn’t even realize how much he’d missed that.
“So, Mr. Kitten Parent. Tell me something else about yourself. You said you play guitar?”
“You remember that?”
“Of course I do. I was pissed off, not pissed drunk. Don’t avoid the question.”
Her directness was just about the sexiest thing he’d ever come across.
Sexiest and most terrifying.
“I don’t have my guitar anymore.”
She frowned, clearly not buying his bullshit. “Did you look between the couch cushions?”
“I know where it is. I’m just not getting it back.”
She leaned back in her bar seat while she took a sip of her drink. Her lips wrapped seductively around the end of her straw. She swallowed and asked, “Why not?”
Why not? That was the big question, wasn’t it? The one he’d been avoiding for almost a year. And for some reason he didn’t quite understand yet, he was willing to answer that question for her.
“It’s at my brother’s house. We haven’t spoken in a year. Ain’t worth it.”
“Did you like playing?”
“I guess. Yeah.” Shit, that was an understatement.
“Then go get it. You don’t have to forgive or forget whatever resentment you’ve got, but if it’s yours, it’s yours. Or just buy a new one.”
He laughed. This woman was a fixer, through and through. “That easy, huh?”
“I didn’t say easy. I said do it.” She leaned her elbows on the table again, and the neckline of her shirt dangled low and loose. A second later, he felt her boot slide up the side of his calf beneath the table. “You don’t strike me as the type that’s scared to try something new.”
He pulled his leg away, as much as he liked it there. “What about you?”
“What about me? I have my guitar. And I’m not the one who’s afraid here.”
“Oh no?” he challenged. “Then what’s with all the ‘I’m not looking for a thing’ stuff?”
She narrowed her eyes. “Just because I’m not looking for something doesn’t mean I’m scared of it.”
“It doesn’t have to. But it usually does.”
“Well, it doesn’t mean anything in this case.”
It was as if someone cranked down the thermostat and thrown up a glass wall between them. “Sorry, I thought we were friends. I told you about my cat.”
She tucked a long, wavy strand of hair behind her ear and fought a smile. “Fine. I’m just busy. Work. Music. Kid. Life. I have a good life, but I don’t have time for a relationship.”
“But you have time for…fun?”
“No. But I’m making an exception this week, it seems. Consider yourself lucky.”
At that moment, he realized how right she was. He was damn lucky to have crossed paths with this woman. To realize what he’d been missing lately. What he’d shut himself off from these past several months. And hanging out with Natalie made him want to push his luck even more.
He leaned forward, rested his arms on the table, and lowered his voice. “What if I told you a relationship could be fun?”
She laughed and downed the rest of her drink. “I’d call you a liar.”
Shane loved a challenge. He especially loved a challenge he knew he could win.
“What if I could prove it?”
* * * * *
Five minutes later, they were walking down Jefferson Street, shoulder-to-shoulder, music streaming onto the walkway from bars, restaurants, galleries, and tattoo shops. Natalie held her coat tightly around her body, regretting her choice to wear a v-neck and not bring a scarf. Despite knowing just about every business downtown, she still had no idea where Shane was leading her.
Until he ducked into a set of double doors and crashing noises filled the air.
“Bowling?”
She was surprised, but not disappointed, so she entered the building while he held the door open for her. Inside, music blared over the crashing pins and bright lights illuminated the colorful geometric shapes decorating the walls. They’d decked out the whole place with purple, green, and gold streamers hanging from the ceiling and plastic beads dangling from the countertops. Tacky, but in a strange way, this place was warm and soothing, like coming home after a long trip.
“You said you wanted fun,” Shane said. They walked up to the counter, and Shane requested a lane.
“I did,” she said. “This wasn’t exactly what I had in mind, but I like surprises.”
“Then wait to be amazed by the surprise of my expert bowling skills.”
Natalie gave her shoe size to the worker behind the counter. “Expert skills, huh?”
“Yup. Some of us give great book recommendations. Others are gifted with giant ball skills.”
She closed her eyes and shook her head. When she opened them, she took her shoes and offered to pay for the lane.
“Nope,” he said. “My surprise, my treat.”
They took their shoes and walked toward lane number eleven. Her phone buzzed in her coat pocket, and she pulled it out and smiled at the goodnight text from her ex’s number. Natalie wrote a quick reply, then put the phone away again.
“Sorry, my daughter. Just saying goodnight.”
“That’s sweet. She texts you every night when she’s away?”
“Yup. Unless I have a gig. Then I’ll text her beforehand or o
n a break.”
There was an awkward pause in the conversation, as they sat beside each other and removed their boots and shoes in exchange for bowling shoes. Their arms and knees brushed and bumped during the switch. The touch was both stimulating and comforting in a way that was completely unfamiliar to Natalie.
She didn’t really want to talk with him any more about her parenting schedule, and his silence hinted he wasn’t sure how to ease out of that subject either. So she took the initiative and switched gears.
“You liked my book recommendation, huh?”
“So far so good,” he said.
“You’ll have to let me know how you like the whole thing.”
“Well, you’ll have to give me your number so I can give you my final book review,” he said, securing the laces on his shoes.
Natalie laced hers as well, then stood with him to pick their balls. “Tell you what. You win, you get my number.”
He raised an eyebrow in interest. “That seems unfair.”
She crossed her arms. “Scared?”
“No, but we’ve already established my superior ball skills.”
She laughed. “I’m willing to take the risk.”
“Okay, if I win, I get your number,” he said.
“Good. And if I win,” she said, “you get my email address.”
He frowned.
She added, “You can still send your book thoughts in an email.”
“I don’t like this bet. But I like my chances.” He stuck his hand out. “Deal?”
Natalie looked at his hand for a moment. While she wasn’t even close to wanting to take a chance on a relationship, with this guy or anyone else, she did like her bowling odds here.
She reached out and shook his hand. It was warm and softer than she remembered his hands being, and she never wanted to let it go.
“Deal.”
* * * * *
An hour later, Shane was staring up at the final score, his mouth hanging open in disbelief. “You hustled me!”
“No,” Natalie said. “I never said I couldn’t bowl.”
He gestured wildly at the screen. “Yeah, but you never said you were 178 good either.”
“Eight years of summer leagues as a kid.” She shrugged. “You didn’t ask.”