The Best Kind of Trouble Page 15


Kensey’s eyes widened. “For real? Can we go check books out from her, then? I love the libary.”

“Library, darlin’.” Vaughan kissed her head. “And sure, I think checking books out is a great idea.”

His mother went back for another pass at information-gathering. “So how does she talk about her work, then?”

“She talked about the library like it was a haven. How she wanted to be part of a safe place for kids and others in the community. Said the library was more than just checking out books.”

His mother smiled and Paddy knew it spelled trouble.

“I like that. Girl’s got a good heart. So you knew her when you two were young and silly, and now you’ve grown.”

“Yes.” The good thing was that because the girls were there, his mother wouldn’t bring up safe sex or anything else embarrassing and cringeworthy. But that didn’t mean she wouldn’t find him later to do it.

“Is she pretty?” Maddie snuck a piece of bacon off her dad’s plate, and he pretended to be scandalized.

“She’s really pretty.”

“She likes books, and she’s pretty, too. Is she smart?”

He nodded. “She has a master’s degree. You know what that is?”

Maddie shook her head.

“You go to grade school and then high school. She went to college after that. That’s four years. And then she went to school for more years after that to get a special degree in being a librarian.”

“That’s lots of school! Smart and pretty. My momma says pretty fades but smarts last forever.”

“That’s what she says when Maddie doesn’t want to finish her homework,” Kensey added.

“Well, your mom is right.” Vaughan laughed, winking at his brother.

* * *

WHEN SHE WALKED into Common Grounds Monday morning, he sat there at his regular table.

“There you are. Morning, Natalie. I took the liberty of ordering for you.” He pointed at a very large mug and a plate with two spice doughnuts.

“You’re the devil.”

He laughed. “How so?”

She sat and looked at the pretty design Bobbi had made on the top of her cappuccino and then back to the masculine glory of his face. “Doughnuts? Two of them, even.”

“It’s Monday. If an extra doughnut is what it takes to get through unscathed and without violence to another human, I say eat two.”

Because he had what was probably 2 or 3 percent body fat, it was clearly easy to say. Which did not stop her from eating that first doughnut in what felt like three bites. Maybe it was four.

She hoped so.

He just grinned at her.

“What?”

“I like watching you. Did you have a good weekend?”

“Went to a craft fair with Tuesday. Bought stuff for my house. Ate too much. We planted stuff in our front yard, and yesterday she made me go on a hike. I just pray for winter when I don’t have to hike up hills for a few months.”

“Aw, come on now. You wouldn’t do it if you really didn’t like it.”

She nearly choked on the second doughnut. “I hate to break it to you, but I do it because my best friend likes it. I don’t like being really sweaty.” She sipped her cappuccino. “Well, outside of a few examples. Some kinds of sweat are worth the exertion.”

He leaned closer. “Please tell me you’re talking about sex.”

She blinked, keeping her expression serious. “No, I’m talking about raking leaves. Of course I’m talking about sex.”

He wiped his brow theatrically. “I’m going to change the subject, or I’ll be useless for hours. Bobbi says you never drink iced stuff. Now that September is here, that’s one thing, but in full summer, too?”

“Are you a coffee spy, Paddy?” She raised a brow.

“If I am, can I capture you and do whatever I have to to get you to cooperate?”

The words fell over her, heated, dirty innuendo. “Maybe.” They watched each other as they sipped their coffee.

“Tuesday says my dislike of iced coffee means I’m broken and tragically weird. I’ll eat coffee ice cream, because I’m not that tragic. But I’ll happily guzzle hot coffee all year around. I’m a traditionalist that way.”

“Did you know you have a dimple?” He reached out to brush a fingertip over the space to the right of her mouth. Of course she wasn’t smiling then; she was probably looking like a deer caught in the headlights because he set her aflame.

She ducked her head. “Did you have a good weekend?”

“My nieces were visiting, so we rode horses and went on picnics, and I endured three DVDs worth of animation. So yes, I had a good weekend. You should go out with me again.”

Her head spun at that quick change of topic. “I should?”

“Oh, yeah. Do you like movies?”

“Yes, again, not that tragic.”

“Our manager is dating a producer so we just got a bunch of stuff that’s just released. I have a home theater. Why don’t you come to my house? We’ll have dinner and watch movies.”

“I can’t tonight. Monday night is my book club.”

“Book club? What are you reading?”

“We have themes. This month is graphic novels, so we’ve been doing all the Walking Dead issues.”

“Really? Amazing. Is this open to new members?”

She laughed. Nearly choking on her drink. “We’d never get anything done if you joined my book club.”

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