“Looks like Lynée has an admirer.” He leaned in close as he grabbed the handle of the folding table.
She raised her gaze to him. “What are you talking about?”
He motioned with his head. “That kid out there, William. He’s got a crush on you the size of Mount Rainier.”
She wrinkled up her precious little nose. “No, he doesn’t. We just work together.”
“Bell, I’m telling you. He’s crushing on you. Hard.” With that, Jace hefted the table and walked out toward the front of the library. “Thanks, William,” he called. “I’ll try and have Lynée back to you as soon as I can.”
The boy sat taller and smiled from scrawny ear to ear. “Do you need any help?”
“I got her, buddy.” Jace winked at him. He let the implied meaning sink into the kid’s head while they finished carrying the table outside. He couldn’t help teasing just a bit.
At the car, Lynée stomped her little feet as she clicked open the trunk lid, then smacked his upper arm.
He hid the laughter bubbling up. God, she was so fucking adorable. “Ow. What was that for?”
“You can’t lead on poor William like that. I have no interest in him. That is so unprofessional.”
He slammed the trunk lid and slid into the passenger’s seat. “Well, maybe you should. It’s been a while, Bell. I mean, the boy is sitting in there right now with a woody, dying to see you again. I bet he’s never made a girl come, but you could teach him, right?”
She smacked him again. “Ah! Shut your pie hole.”
He laughed. His belly quivered, and it felt good to play with her.
She started the car. “Can we just focus on our task here and getting my friend out of hiding?”
“Yes, ma’am.” He turned to the window to hide his chuckling. She was cuter when she blushed. Getting her all riled up like this was almost as fun as…
Easy, Ivy. He couldn’t go down that road. But damn, stashed under all that clothing, she hid some sexy assets. Poor little William wouldn’t have a clue how to please her. What buttons to push, and how to edge her to that moment just before release. Hell, he’d likely blow his load the second she stood completely naked before him.
Lynée lowered her window a crack, despite the chilly air. Obviously, she was feeling the heat from their conversation just as much as he was. What was that woman thinking right now? Was she looking down the same road he was? Flirting with the idea of taking him up on his offer?
Or considering the idea of helpless William?
God, he hoped not.
No, she needed to find a man who knew how to please a woman. A man who knew what she wanted even when she didn’t know herself. Most importantly, she needed a man who could commit. One who could give her the world she craved, give her babies, and devote his undivided attention to her.
He knew he fit that description. Well, most of it. The commitment part would be the dealbreaker for him. But it was still entertaining to think about.
* * *
Lynée had called Wanda at Saint Mary’s earlier, asking to borrow the corkboard she knew they had sitting in the office. Unfortunately, the call had rolled to voicemail, so she had no idea if it was even okay to borrow it.
As they walked past reception, toward the main office, she heard voices. Distressed ones. She glanced up at Jace, and the look on his face told her he heard it too.
They turned the corner, and several people stood in the church’s small library. More like a converted closet with the door removed and books lining all the shelving units.
“Hey, guys. What’s going on?”
Wanda, Father Richard, and everyone else looked her way, stares darting to Jace. She stepped into the room and scattered there on the floor in a tumbling pile laid books. Hundreds of books.
She gasped. “What happened?”
Fr. Richard stooped down to pick up a few of the hardbacks.
“The bookcase collapsed,” Wandra replied. “I think a shelf broke, and that caused a domino effect. The rest tumbled.” She picked up a copy of The Velveteen Rabbit, the front cover broken, and the back half crushed.
Lynée’s heart crumpled in on itself. She’d loved that book as a child. The library’s copy looked older than hers. Her mind instantly went through her own inventory, trying to figure out which ones she could donate to replace anything unusable.
“I simply don’t know what we’re going to do,” Wanda continued. “We just used up the available funding to replace the fencing around the church, and the rest went toward the children’s Christmas play.”
Jace and Lynée leaned down to stack books and assess the damage.
He grabbed a few of the broken shelves that had actually splintered in several places. “It doesn’t look like this old bookshelf can be repaired.”
Fr. Richard shook his head. “I’m just grateful no one was in here when it happened. They could’ve been hurt.”
“What’s the plan with the old fence panels outside?” Jace spoke.
Lynée furrowed her brows. “What?”
Fr. Richard straightened, pushing his rimless glasses back on his nose. “We’re waiting for the city to come and collect bulk trash. They said it would be next week.”
Of course Jace would notice stuff like that. She had no idea what he was talking about, but clearly, with his job, he was trained to notice random details.
“I can build a bookshelf out of the old lumber. Do you have an electric saw and some tools?”
She blinked several times. Did she hear that right?
“You’re a carpenter?” Wanda and Fr. Richard asked in unison.
He shrugged a shoulder. “Not officially. But bookshelves are easy.”
Lynée remembered her manners. “Oh, sorry. This is Jace Ivy.”
“That’s awfully kind of you, Jace.” Fr. Richard beamed. “That doesn’t impose on you too much? There are a lot of books.”
“Not at all. It won’t be fancy, but from the looks of the panels, it’ll be plenty sturdy. Where are your tools?” he asked.
“Follow me.”
Fr. Richard led the way out of the room.
Lynée was silenced. Jace just didn’t seem the volunteer-type. That was such a kind offer, and it seemed so unlike him. Most of their time had been spent bickering, and him being so crotchety, demanding, and Scrooge-like. Except for a few moments of what she could only deduce was cabin fever getting the better of them.
“Your friend is very kind.” Wanda broke her train of thought.
“It seems so,” she replied with a smile. Surprisingly kind.
Wanda and Lynée stayed on their knees for almost an hour, cleaning up and organizing the mess on the ground as best they could. Jace had returned once to get the tall side pieces which sustained no major damage.
“Why don’t you take some water out back to the shed in case the boys are thirsty.” Wanda smiled at her, straightening the pile of children’s books that threatened to topple over again.
Lynée held back a chuckle. Fr. Richard was probably seventy, and although he was in good shape, she would hardly call him a boy. But Wanda was even older, so everyone was probably “boy” or “girl” to her.
She followed Wanda to the breakroom and pulled out a few bottles of water.
Lynée walked out of the church’s back door and across the yard to the shed. The power saw whirred from inside. She could imagine the entire place covered in sawdust. She stepped through the door, ready to cover her mouth and nose from all the debris in the air. Her shoes crunched over the wood shavings on the floor.
Nothing prepared her for what she witnessed.
Jace…shirtless.
Her mouth went dry.
Sweat covered his arms and back. Under a few pieces of sawdust on his skin, his muscles flexed as he pushed the power saw through the board.
They didn’t seem to notice her, and she couldn’t make her legs move. The extent of his tattoos stunned her twice-over. An intricate masterpiece of a metal shield
encompassed between two giant axes, all encircled with dark ivy in curly designs countering the appearance of strong steel.
When the saw stopped, she inhaled and pasted on a smile. “How’s it going?”
Fr. Richard set a newly cut piece of lumber on a stack with some others. “Hi, Lynée. Jace is powering through this project like it’s nothing more than cardboard.”
She nodded. Still glued to the spot.
Jace turned. He gave her a look that could only be described as a smolder. Or maybe he was just thirsty.
“Is that for me?” he asked.
“Huh?” She glanced down at the bottled waters in her hands. “Oh, yeah.” She moved closer, handing one to each of them. It was then that the necklace around Jace’s neck caught her eye. A thick stainless steel chain with a silver cross.
He’s religious? Can’t be. Not with the way he spoke and the feelings he invoked in her. The proposition he made…
He chugged most of the water and retrieved another board to set on the sawhorses for cutting.
“So, okay. You guys need anything else?”
From his position over the slab of wood, Jace turned his head. “I’ll need to go to the hardware store for supplies,” he announced.
“Okay, I’ll be ready when you are.”
He nodded, and the saw came to life.
She pivoted to leave. There were a handful of times in Lynée’s life when she was truly shocked. When Todd wanted her to move to Africa, when Mrs. Latham, who opened the library, announced her retirement, and now, seeing Jace bareback. The sheer size of him would intimidate anybody. His muscles were impressive. She had no idea the male form could look so incredibly powerful. Well, of course, she did from movies and all the magazines in the library. But she’d never seen it in person.
She licked her lips as she walked back to the library. Grateful for the chillier air on her cheeks. She grabbed two more bottled waters, one for Wanda and the other for herself. Hydration could help cool these jets.
“How’re they doing back there?” Wanda tilted her head when Lynée walked in.
“Um, good.” She spared Wanda all the interesting details, handing her a bottle of water. “Jace wants to go to the hardware store soon.”
“Thank you. I’ve sorted the books into piles by subject. I was going to sort each stack by author alphabetically, but my knees can’t be on the floor much longer. I’m sure as a librarian, a non-alphabetical sort makes you cringe.”
“Very funny.”
The broken wood had been removed. All they had to do was wait for the new bookshelf, and they could reassemble the room.
“So tell me,” Wanda lowered her voice and leaned in closer. “What’s with the tall drink of wake-me-up out there? Why is he here? With you?”
So many questions overloaded Lynée’s brain. Mainly because she didn’t know how to answer them. Wanda wasn’t exactly a gossiper, and she liked her a lot for that. But something as unusual as a DEA agent in their tiny town searching for a suspect was certainly going to be too irresistible for Wanda to keep to herself. Besides, Lynée wasn’t sure how much of Jace’s presence and intentions were available to share with everyone else. Then again, he wasn’t necessarily discreet at the Rock Road Diner the first day he was here. But with Skye and Reed in hiding, it was probably best for her to be a little more discreet.
“He’s an investigator. Helping the Sheriff’s office on a case.”
Wanda’s eyes nearly popped out of their sockets. “Really? Are you escorting him around town or something?”
Lynée tried to think of something. “Not exactly. Just one of those right-place-right-time situations.”
Wanda grinned. “Oh, honey…you’re telling me.” She fanned herself.
She has no idea.
Lynée carried the church’s cork board to the side door, staring at the brown cork, worn with plenty of holes. Her mind wandered to the image of Jace’s naked back and chest. No matter how badly she wanted to keep her thoughts on the case and which files she would dig into next, the man’s demi-god like muscles and tattoos had hijacked her mental functioning. She’d never been that into a guy’s physical appearance as much as their humor, kindness, and intelligence. That was her trifecta. But he certainly got her attention this time and rendered her speechless in that shed. Something she’d rarely encountered in her life. Practically aphasia.
Masculine voices carried on the air from the back. Jace and Fr. Richard walked toward the parking lot.
Jace had donned his shirt, pendant beneath the neckline, with his jacket in his hand. With only a cursory glance at Lynée, he addressed Fr. Richard again. “We’ll run to the store and be back shortly.”
“I can’t tell you how much I appreciate all this.” They shook hands.
He lifted the board and made his way to her car.
She followed him. “We can go to Elliott’s. They have just about everything. It’s only a few miles away.”
“Okay,” he replied as he slipped the corkboard in the back seat, then folded himself into her little car.
“Thanks for helping with this project.”
“No problem.” He kept his gaze out his side window.
Man of few words and she had a million questions.
Why won’t he look at me?
She licked her lips yet again. “So, I noticed your necklace. A cross.”
“Uh-huh.”
“I didn’t know you were religious.”
“I’m not.”
Gees. Like getting blood from a turnip.
“Must mean something to you then.”
He exhaled. “My mom gave it to me. It used to be my dad’s.”
“Used to be?”
He rubbed the back of his neck. “My dad was an agent. Killed in the line of duty when I was fourteen. A drug-bust gone bad.”
Her heart dropped a little. “Oh, I’m so sorry.”
He adjusted the vents in front of him for more air. “This line of work ain’t for the faint of heart.”
She stopped at a red light, and the silence between them carried. She couldn’t imagine not having her parents growing up. True, they now lived in Florida for health reasons, but she still talked to them a lot.
“It’s nice you have a memento of him like that. One you can carry with you wherever you go.”
The light remained red for a long time, during the continued awkward silence. He finally answered, just as the light turned green. “I didn’t actually wear this for a long time after. Mom gave it to me at his funeral, but I was angry. Chucked it and blamed him for putting himself in that position. She stashed the cross away and gave it to me again before my first DEA interview. I landed the job and never took it off.”
Lynée glanced his way. “It must have been hard growing up without your father.”
He cleared his throat. “Why do you want to talk about this?”
“I thought nothing scared you.”
“I’m not scared.” He rolled his eyes. “It’s just pointless.”
“Why is it pointless?”
“Cuz we can’t go back and change anything. I became a troubled teen. Made some bad decisions—hanging out with the wrong crowd, venting my anger in stupid ways. Nearly ended up in juvie a few times.”
She had to stop again for a crossing guard leading elementary students through the crosswalk. “What set you straight?”
“My dad’s partner. Phil. Told me my father would be rolling over in his grave with the shit I was pulling. If I didn’t start putting my energy toward good, he’d personally see me shipped off to military school. The kind in the woods with no modern plumbing.” He chuckled as if reminiscing some absurd conversation. “Anyway, I listened. And here I am.”
“Here you are,” she echoed. “Dedicating your life to the same public service as your father.”
He nodded.
The school zone finally ended, and she pulled onto the main road with all the big box retailers. “Between all your hoodlum and troubled adolesce
nce, where did you learn carpentry?”
“Phil. He was a big fan of working with your hands.”
“Is he still with the DEA, too?”
“Yeah, but stuck behind a desk. I still talk to him regularly. He taught me a lot.” He shook his head slightly. “He was good for me and my mom, incredibly supportive. He’s the reason I didn’t end up in juvenile detention, which would’ve destroyed my chances at public service.”
“Sounds like a good man.”
“Yeah, he is. But don’t tell him I said that.”
They pulled into Elliott’s and parked. The man walked up and down the aisles with purpose, knowing just what he was looking for and where to find it. Maybe all hardware stores were set up the same way because in record time, he had everything he needed, and they were checking out.
Driving back onto church property, Lynée asked, “So how much longer do you want to work?” She didn’t know if staying here watching him work shirtless was the best of ideas. He’d probably ruin not only her mental functioning but her executive functioning as well.
He glanced at his watch. “Not sure.”
“How about I leave you here to finish, and I’ll head over to Skye’s house and water her plants, bring in the mail, all that stuff.”
He looked her way. “All right. But I should probably shower afterward.” His lips pinched to the side like he was formulating a plan. “I’ll shower at the motel, then we can go out for dinner. Sound good?”
That meant she would wait in his motel room while he showered. She turned her head at a car passing by. She couldn’t think of any logical reason that wouldn’t be okay. She swallowed hard. “All right. Sounds good to me. Call me when you’re finished. I’ll pick you up.”
He nodded and, with the bag in hand, headed for the back of the church.
Jace in a shower. The view of him without a shirt and cutting lumber was one heck of tongue-swallow. But imagining his back glistening with beads of water in a stall-full of steam…His tattoos in clear view as he combed his hair at the vanity.
Tattoos weren’t for her, but it certainly seemed to suit him. And the artwork itself was exquisite. Beauty on the beast.
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