Her heart leaped in her chest. Okay? Of course it was okay. She couldn’t wait to see him again.
“Sure, I’ll be home after one.”
“I’ll be around shortly after, then. Good night, Tamsyn.”
“Good night,” she whispered, suddenly reluctant to lose the all-too-brief connection between them.
She felt like a teenager waiting for the other person to hang up first, not prepared to be the one to do it herself. She heard the beep as he disconnected the call and finally hit the end button on her phone.
Well, clearly her silly rush to leave after their embrace hadn’t put him off wanting to see her again, Tamsyn thought as she brushed her teeth and readied herself for bed. Later, as she lay between her lavender-scented sheets and absently stroked Lucy, who had curled up by her waist, she played the evening back in her mind.
Relived that all-too-brief kiss. A kiss that had ignited a passion she’d feared she was incapable of igniting—both within herself and within a partner. A passion that had been unequivocally reciprocated. The realization was both empowering and terrifying in equal proportions.
She sighed in the dark, squirming a little against the mattress as her body started that slow burn all over again, aching and wanting. Tamsyn shifted position and tried to rid her thoughts of anything to do with Finn Gallagher. God, she thought as she finally began to drift off to sleep, if a single kiss could leave her this flummoxed, what would she be like if they ever made love?
Or maybe she should be asking herself, when they made love?
Eleven
Tamsyn made it into town early after a surprisingly deep sleep. It seemed that a delicious meal and good-night kiss from a supersexy man was enough to chase the doubt demons away. She really should do it more often, she thought with a cheeky smile at herself in the rearview mirror of her car.
She parked near the hall and then made her way to the library, determined today to find the librarian, Miriam. The library doors stood open as she approached, always a good sign, and when she entered, she saw that it was doing a brisk business. As she mounted the stairs to the entrance, several people gave her a second glance—something she was beginning to get used to around here. Perhaps they treated all newcomers that way.
An older woman, with hair an interesting shade of pale blue, was busy checking out books at the front desk. Tamsyn waited until the line receded before stepping forward.
“Excuse me, I’m looking for Miriam. Gladys sent me.”
“Oh, you must be the new seniors’ coordinator,” the woman said brightly, her pale blue eyes sparkling through the lenses of her pink wire-framed glasses.
“Yes, temporarily at least.” Tamsyn smiled. “Are you Miriam?”
“Yes, dear, I am. How can I help you? Looking for a specific title?”
The woman changed windows on the computer in front of her and looked expectantly at Tamsyn, her hands poised over the keyboard.
“I’m looking for my mother, actually. Ellen Masters. I was wondering if I could view the electoral rolls to see if she’s still a resident in the area.”
“The electoral rolls? Did Gladys send you here for those?”
“Well, she did say you’d know where I could find information about people living in the area.”
“Hmm.” Miriam slipped her glasses off her face and chewed thoughtfully on the tip of one arm. “Well, the electoral rolls aren’t kept here. They used to be at the post office, but since all the smaller ones were closed down some years ago, your best bet for that information would be in Blenheim, or even Nelson. What did you say your mother’s name was?”
“Ellen Masters, have you heard of her?”
Tamsyn held her breath, hoping against hope that Miriam would smile and tell her that of course she knew her mother, but her hopes were dashed as the older woman shook her pale blue head.
“I don’t know anyone of that name.”
Tamsyn forced a smile to her face. “Thanks anyway.”
“You’re welcome, dear, and good luck for today.”
“Today?”
“With the oldies,” Miriam said with a conspiratorial wink.
“You think I’ll need it?” Tamsyn said, this time with a genuine smile.
“Some of those old men can be a bit of a handful. Mind you, most of them always were. You’d best hurry on then. You don’t want to be late on your first day.”
Miriam hadn’t been kidding, Tamsyn realized later on. Every man there, whether he be in a wheelchair or ambulatory, was an incorrigible flirt. By the time twelve-thirty rolled around she’d received no less than three offers of marriage and a few offers of other things she wouldn’t touch with a barge pole. It was all in fun, though, and as she took the box with the door takings to Gladys she felt as if she’d been a part of something worthwhile for a change.