by Bonnie Vane
“She played the guitar?” Blaine didn’t ask what Maxie meant by “had” such a lovely voice. He had a feeling it was sad and personal, and he didn’t think she’d want him to go there.
“Acoustic, not electric. So I doubt she would have played any of the Tannahill guitars.”
“Guess not.” Blaine turned up the volume, and they rode the rest of the way not speaking, sharing the music in a non-verbal way.
The ordeal of getting Maxie out of the car and into the library was nerve-wracking, and she did bat his hand away when he forgot his no-touch rule for a moment and tried to help. But they made it in without any major incidents.
The Wingapo Library was only five years old, built on the same site as the older facility. He hadn’t been inside the new building and was surprised at how much bigger it was and how many computer stations lined the walls. “Is the library transitioning to all ebooks or something?”
“God I hope not,” Maxie hobbled her way into a back room which served as the library hub, with rows of metal racks filled with books, boxes, cartons, and media gear. She perched on a desk, using her crutches as stabilizers. “Digital books are more popular all the time, and that’s fine, but print books will always have a place in my heart and in my hands.”
“They’ll have to pry the last book from your cold, dead hands?” He grinned at her.
She bit her lip, and he thought he detected a tiny ghost of a smile. “Something like that.” She pointed to a box on the floor next to the desk. “We got that in on Friday. A shipment of new books we’ll have to log in, catalog in the database, and shelve.” She looked over the top of the desk. “I have a box cutter here somewhere.”
Blaine whipped out his multitool from his pocket and made quick work of the box’s seal. He lifted the books out gently and stacked them on a nearby cart. The book on top of the stack caught his eye, and he picked it up to flip through it. “Ellroy’s latest. The second L.A. Quartet series. I’ve been meaning to read this.”
He put the book back and grabbed the one underneath. “And the new Franzen.” He brought the book up to his nose. “New book smell. I’ve always loved that.”
She blinked at him again, and he was beginning to think he must be the most unappealing man she’d ever met or maybe the most obnoxious. That whole blinking-without-speaking thing was getting on his nerves. Either she was a cold fish or he was a boring twit because he never could seem to get any other reaction out of her. Unless it really was her heart he’d felt beating so fast back at her house. But she couldn’t get him off of her fast enough, could she?
He sighed and tossed the book on the cart. “What can I do for you next, my liege?”
She stiffened, and he said, “I meant that as a joke, okay? Look, I seem to be saying all the wrong things here. Why don’t I just shut up and you point me toward the tasks you need to take care of.”
Maxie’s tone of voice softened when she replied, “I didn’t take offense. It just reminded me of something.”
She bit her lip and flashed him the tiniest of smiles. But even such a microscopic smile made his shoulders relax and a warmth creep up his spine. Maybe this little arrangement was going to work out, after all. That is if they could keep from biting each other’s heads off.
CHAPTER TEN
Maxie wasn’t enjoying her little power-play game so much that she didn’t get taken aback by the surprising news Blaine was a book lover. A reader, anyway. And how many men had she ever known who were?
Certainly not Sidney. Sidney’s idea of “reading” was to check the TV Guide for the sports schedules or maybe Playboy, on occasion. When he didn’t have his nose buried in the financial page of the Washington Post.
Well, good, then. Might make her training of him a little easier. Before long, she was barking out commands like a real, hardass foreman, getting Blaine to move dozens of boxes around and making several trips around the library to file books.
She had to admit, a part of her liked being in control and making this spoiled, rich boy do her bidding. Maybe she shouldn’t be enjoying it so much, but those thoughts disappeared when she remembered her poor, little squashed Ford.
That is until she saw Blaine rubbing his temples and realized that, once again, she’d forgotten to ask him about the cut on his head. And how in the world had she ignored that ugly, purplish-yellow bruise? Was it because she was so giddy with power she was turning into a Sidney herself? Or was it because she’d been enjoying the show of watching Blaine’s muscled body as he effortlessly swung all those heavy books around.
She commanded him to sit down back in the office while she hobbled on her crutches into the bathroom. With a triumphant, “Aha!,” she stuffed her prize underneath her sweater to free up her hands for the crutches, then headed back to the desk and pulled out the first aid kit from her top.
After rescuing a small tube of cream, she started patting the cream onto his bruise until he squirmed and said “Ow.”
Maxie frowned at him. “This’ll go a lot easier if you’ll stay still.” As he bit his lip, she asked, “Do you have a headache?”
“Yeah. Probably just the bruise.”
“Hmm. Could be a concussion.”
“It’s not a—”
“Do you have any ringing in your ears, dizziness, nausea, seeing stars?”
“No, nope, uh uh, and nada. Are you also a nurse in your spare time?”
She ignored his sarcastic tone. “Just experience.”
She wasn’t about to tell him it was from a concussion she’d gotten after a college boyfriend pushed her down the stairs after a nasty fight. Come to think of it, she didn’t exactly have a stellar track record of picking winning boyfriends. Not one had ever used the “L” word, let alone made her feel special. Well, Sidney made a good show of it, though she hadn’t always been sure it was sincere.
“Earth to Maxie,” Blaine said, making her realize how long she’d drifted off down memory lane. But he was grinning at her as he said it, and she couldn’t help but grin back.
Damn, but that boyish charm of his must be a magnet to his lady friends. She also was having a harder time trying to pretend he wasn’t a lot funnier and sweeter than she’d imagined.
What he’d mistaken as annoyance earlier over his question, “What can I do for you next, my liege?” was actually her thoughts about Becky Gains wanting to be Queen of her own little Kingdom. And here Blaine had practically put her up on the same type of pedestal with his “liege” comment.
Maxie kept a close eye on Blaine for the next couple of hours, giving him much easier tasks to do. When Allison Greeley arrived, Maxie asked her to take over the front desk while Maxie herded Blaine through a door into a darkened room off the main lobby.
“What’s this?” Blaine groped around for a light until Maxie told him where to find it.
“It’s a little cafe we added this year. We only keep it open on weekends for now. Hopefully, we can expand it to a full week soon.”
“So technically, it’s closed right now?”
“That it is. But since I have all the keys to everything,” she steadied herself on her crutches long enough to pull out a key ring, “I think it’s time you had a break.”
She motioned for Blaine to sit down again and headed toward the refrigerator for some leftover sandwiches and iced coffee. As she valiantly tried to pull out the pitcher of coffee, a pair of strong hands reached around her to grab it.
“I’m supposed to be helping you, remember?” He chided her.
She sighed. “I’m not used to having someone do everything for me.”
“How many people would kill for their own, private butler? Besides, it’s only temporary. You’ll be back to running marathons in no time.”
She stared at him. That was the same thing she’d told her father. “What makes you think I run marathons?”
“Well, you’re fit and trim and look, umm, well ...” his voice trailed off. “Healthy. Yes, that’s it. Healthy.”
Her face grew warm at the w
ay he’d studied her body, examining her from head to toe. Well, turnabout was fair play, wasn’t it? It’s not like she hadn’t been doing the same thing to him all morning. She smiled at him. “You look ... healthy, too. Very healthy.”
He grinned again and carried the coffee and sandwiches over to a table. He waited to sit until she’d hobbled over and eased into a chair, something she appreciated. It was obvious he was itching to do everything for her but willing to give her some space to work out things on her own.
So many men she’d been around were a lot more smothering, wanting to control every aspect of her life, from what clothes she should wear down to her career choices. Just like her father had nixed her dream of being a songwriter.
As if reading her mind, Blaine asked, “So how does a country music girl end up a librarian on the Virginia shore?”
“The usual way. Classes.” She nibbled on her Havarti on rye
“You don’t sound all that thrilled about it. Not your first choice?”
She almost choked on the sandwich. “I love books. And music. Either one would be enjoyable.”
“At least, you had a choice.” Blaine took a swig of his coffee, and Maxie was a little concerned to see him still grimacing from time to time and touching his forehead.
“You mean, your family’s guitar business? Did you feel forced to go into it, then?”
“More like obligated. I enjoy it, mind you, but I’m not sure my father would be thrilled if I’d decided to, say, become a writer.”
“Can’t you do both?”
He gave her a small smile. “I suppose I could. Bar-hopping may be losing a bit of its charm.”
“Bar-hopping? Is that where you’d been when you ran into me?” Maxie folded her arms across her chest.
Blaine’s smiled faded, and he rubbed a hand through his hair. “I probably shouldn’t tell you this. My father’s lawyers would have my head on a platter. But I guess I feel like I can trust you. Strange, that, isn’t it?”
She nodded. “Actually, yes.”
“Well, I admit I was at a bar last night. But I didn’t have a drop to drink. You can ask Clint. He even commented on it.”
“Clint?”
“Clint’s my best friend from way back. I’m also friends with his fiancée.”
Maxie knew that tone of voice. And she didn’t need to have the extra clue of Blaine’s slumped shoulders to guess that this fiancée meant more to Blaine than his best friend’s soon-to-be-bride. Maxie had never been one to pussyfoot around, preferring honesty over artifice. “How long did you date this fiancée of his?”
His mouth did a fair impression of a cod-fish, opening and closing without a sound. “Are you a mind reader?”
Well, now. The very thing she’d accused him of in her mind. “Feminine intuition.”
“Ah. If you must know, it was only five months.”
“Until she met Clint?”
“That feminine intuition of yours is working overtime. But I have to admit the two of them make the perfect couple. She has a lot more in common with him than me.”
“That’s a very generous thing for you to admit.”
He swallowed some more coffee. “Don’t let it get out. I wouldn’t want people knowing that I’m really a nice guy.”
“Your secret’s safe with me.”
He smiled at her and reached for the coffee urn to refill his glass, which made his hand brush across hers. To her amazement, it was like someone had taken a cattle prod and sent a shock straight through her system. She’d had small “tingles” from the touch of former boyfriends before, but nothing like this. Maybe it was the pain meds. That was it, right? To her surprise, he was looking at her with an expression that looked like what hers must be showing now. Or as she imagined it must be.
Blaine slowly withdrew his hand and poured some of the coffee, but his hand was shaking. Was it the migraine? Maxie fought an urge to reach over and snatch his hand back. Instead, she finished her sandwich in silence, relieved to see him doing the same thing with his hoagie. This day was not at all turning out as she’d imagined. Her carefully thought-out plan of Blaine Tannahill domination had flown out of her head. And when she raised her glass to her lips, she was startled to see that her hand was shaking, too.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
To Blaine’s amazement, the first week on “Maxie Duty” was flying by. He enjoyed getting up early each morning to make sure he made it to her place in plenty of time to pick her up. And he hadn’t spent one single night at a club the entire week, usually coming straight home after dropping Maxie off. That was why he was sitting on his couch in front of the television with a microwaved dinner when his brothers Cash and Jack showed up to check on him again.
Cash dropped a six pack on the solid Guanacaste-wood coffee table Tanya had pushed him to buy, and the ever-responsible Jack had brought along a new giant bottle of aspirin. Blaine’s headache had subsided somewhat, but he couldn’t quite get rid of it. Cash figured his beer quota was low, but Jack was ready to drive him to the hospital. Blaine split the difference and promised to quaff a few beers but go to bed early.
Whenever Blaine saw his brothers bookended like this, lanky blondish Cash on the left, and on the right, Jack, the tightly wound “silver fox” as Tanya called him, he was reminded of how much the three brothers were alike, but even more so, how much they were different. United by birth and a shared family business, divided by temperament. But always there for each other, no matter what. The “Princes of the Potomac” a local newspaper reporter had dubbed them, and it had stuck ever since.
Cash tipped back several swigs from his can of beer and squinted at Blaine. “You don’t look like your punishment has been very punishing. In fact, I don’t think I’ve seen you look this good in quite a while. The way you talked about that librarian at first, I expected one of you might have been arrested for homicide by now.”
Blaine dutifully opened his beer can, mindful of his promise to Cash. “Maxie’s all right. Certainly not like any woman I’ve met before.”
The corners of Cash’s lips turned up. “Has the champion womanizer Blaine Tannahill finally met his match?”
“Maxie is ... well, she’s smart, funny, and talented. She plays the guitar, did you know that?”
Jack spoke up, “Did you try to sell her one of ours?”
Blaine rolled his eyes but knew it was just Jack’s usual understated sense of humor. “She’s into acoustic, not electric.”
Jack put a hand over his heart in mock horror and hissed through his teeth. “She is the evil one. Burn her.”
Cash started laughing but his laughter died when he noticed Blaine wasn’t joining in. “Uh oh, Jackie-boy. I think our baby brother is smitten.”
“What about Tanya?” Jack asked, looking straight into Blaine’s soul with those piercing eyes that never seemed to miss a thing.
Blaine sighed and put his beer can on the table with a loud “thunk” that took his brothers by surprise, from the looks on their faces. “She’s been busy, I’ve been busy.”
Jack replied with a “Hmm,” then got up to answer a knock on the door. Moments later, he returned accompanied by none other than the woman in question, who walked right up to Blaine and planted a big kiss on his lips.
Jack exchanged glances with Cash, and they made some excuse about having to run some important errands, and then beat a hasty retreat. Blaine hadn’t really heard what they’d said because he was fighting a wave of annoyance.
Tanya sat on the couch next to him and wrapped her arms around him as she started kissing his neck and nibbling on his earlobe. “I’ve missed you, my party boy.”
He reached underneath her arms to rescue his beer and clutched the can between his fists. “Busy week. Duty and encumbrances.”
She ran her finger along his cheek. “You’ve been spending too much time at that library. You’re starting to sound like your geeky brother Cash.”
“It’s not like I had a choice. Court-ordered and all.”
“Oh? I heard you did have a choice. You could have attended traffic school instead.”
Where in hell had she learned that? Blaine felt like beating up the source, whoever it was. “Yeah, well, I owed it to Maxie. I broke her ankle and her car.”
“Maxie? Is that her name?” Tanya purred her words. “You’ve given her a week. Why don’t you go to traffic school and be done with it? No more library, no more Maxie, no more court order, and we can play again. Just you and me.”
“I told the police and court I’d give it a couple of weeks until Maxie got better. But it may be longer than that. Don’t think her cast comes off for another five weeks.”
“Five weeks!” Tanya’s purr had morphed more into a growl. “That’s too long. I need you. And you’ll start losing your ‘groupie’ status if you start cozying up to plain-Jane small town librarians. I mean, she’s not the type to go globe-trotting, is she? Can you imagine her in Paris at the Le Baron Club? Or in London at the Mahiki?”
“She’s a musician. She might enjoy hitting up a few venues like that. For the bands, if nothing else.”
“I don’t like you spending so much time with her. You’ve done your duty. And I’m sure if she knew that you mainly went along with this court thing out of pity and trying to fend off her father’s lawsuit, she’d—”
“How did you know about that?
“The wife of one of your attorneys and I go to the same spa.”
“Maxie doesn’t have to know about any of that.”
“Surely she knows already, darling. Why else would someone as worldly and rich as you spend so much attention on a mousy little thing like that?”
“For your information, she is not mousy. And it’s kinda nice to have someone to discuss books and authors with.”
“I can talk about books. Have you read the new one by Lillian Brush?”
“I don’t like fantasy novels.”
“All right, then, what do you want to talk about?”
Blaine flashed her a mocking smile. “Let’s start with Shakespeare’s plays, then.”
Tanya got up and started pacing back and forth. “Oh really, Blaine, you don’t have to be like that.” She paused her pacing. “I know, why don’t we call up a movie on demand? Something we both like. And I promise it won’t be a chick flick.”