Looking for Trouble (Jackson: Girls' Night Out 1)
“The fire station is just on the other side of that wall. It’s too close for comfort. It would be awkward when we stopped dating.”
“Who says we’d stop?”
Sophie just shook her head in exasperation. She says they’d stop. First of all, while it was stimulating to work in the same building that housed the fire station, it really wasn’t ideal for meaningless sexual flings. Way too close to home.
Second, Will was cute and all, and she enjoyed sitting outside watching him play shirtless basketball with the other firefighters during the summer, but he wasn’t her type. Too local. Too young. And too gullible to her good-girl camouflage. She’d been working near Will for two years and he couldn’t see past the librarian glasses and knee-length skirts to the secrets underneath.
But Will had too much confidence in his good looks to give up easily. “I’ll ask again soon,” he warned.
“So you’ve said.”
He winked. “And don’t I keep my promises?”
She shooed him out and he gave her a gracious wave and headed over to the fire station. She supposed she should feel flattered, but he wasn’t truly invested. It felt like a game. Try to talk the shy librarian into a date.
Only she wasn’t as shy as he thought. She was just circumspect. She had to be. Hopefully Will would never know anything about that.
Parents with kids in tow started passing by on the sidewalk, so Sophie packed up the artifacts and locked the glass cabinet. There’d be a rush of children in the library in a few minutes and she wanted to find a great photo for the display and fire up the poster printer while she still had time.
She pasted a smile on her face and walked past the other librarians.
You okay? Lauren mouthed from behind the circulation desk.
Sophie nodded. Why wouldn’t she be? It wasn’t as if she was helping to promote a ceremony that would remind everyone her dad was a cuckold and her mother had abandoned her small children and run off with someone else’s husband.
Sophie forced her smile wider and walked through the library with a bounce in her step.
No, it wasn’t like that at all.
CHAPTER THREE
HE SAW HER again, four hours later, walking down the sidewalk near the center of town as if she’d left his mother’s front yard and never stopped moving. But it was late now and cooler as dusk set in, and she wore a black sweater over that modest green dress.
Alex slowed. He’d gone for a long ride to clear his head, but the clarity had only made him more reluctant to return to his mom’s. She wanted to suck him back into her obsession, and he wanted nothing but distance. Relieved at the prospect of a delay, Alex pulled the bike up next to the redhead and put his boot on the curb.
She stopped and took one step back, uncertainty wrinkling her brow, but at least she didn’t look furious anymore. Alex took off his helmet, just in case she didn’t recognize him with his shaved head covered, but the uncertainty on her face didn’t budge.
“Hey,” he offered as he killed the motor.
“Hello,” she said carefully, as if the weight of the word might change the energy of the air.
“The flye
rs,” he reminded her. “This afternoon.”
Her chin dipped to let him know that she remembered.
“I wanted to apologize. I gather she’s been bothering you. I can’t say I know anything about it, since I just got into town this morning, but I’m damn clear on how dogged she can be. Do you want me to talk to her?”
She relaxed a little, finally. And he could see more of the real her, now. A mouth that looked naturally happy on a sweet little pixie face. She tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear, but the rest of her pretty red hair was still smooth, twisted into a roll at the base of her neck like something from the 1940s.
She shook her head. “I’ve talked to her plenty of times. Do you think she’d really listen to you?”
“Ha.” He managed a quick smile at that. “No. She doesn’t listen to anyone. Ever. I’m Alex, by the way.” He kicked down the stand and dismounted. “Alex Bishop,” he added, holding out a hand. “I assume you’re a neighbor of my mom’s?”
She blinked a couple of times. Maybe she’d heard of his long absence or maybe she was realizing that he was the crazy woman’s son. But she took his hand and shook it. “I’m Sophie. It’s nice to meet you.”
She looked right up at him now, her brown eyes friendly behind the little black glasses. She was a slight thing, but not short. Five-six, he’d guess, in her delicate black heels, shorter without them. His eyes swept down to admire the little black straps over the arches of her feet. She had a style. He liked it.