In This Moment

Chapter Eleven

“The whole town’s buzzin’ about you and Graham.” Scarlett waggled her brows.

Rebecca sighed and leaned against her car in the parking lot of the library where they were waiting on Forest for a meeting. Sun bathed the grounds while a humid breeze caressed her skin. Cardinals danced between the trees and brown thrashers chirped excited calls. The one thing she didn’t miss about Vallantine? The gossip.

She rolled her eyes. “I love how everyone has us married with point five kids, and we haven’t even been on a date yet.”

Scarlett laughed. “You had dinner together last week.”

“A working dinner.”

Dorothy held up her palm. “How do you have point five kids? That’s mathematically impossible.”

“That’s your take on the situation?” Scarlett set her hands on her hips.

“No, I’m just saying, as an accountant, I don’t get it.”

Rebecca glanced at the heavens. “I recant my comment. I don’t even want kids.”

Unless she was talking to present company, that was rarely something she admitted aloud. Most people would say things like, you’ll change your mind, or think to themselves, what’s wrong with her? Society often criticized women like her, as if they wouldn’t have complete life fulfillment without offspring. It made her so angry. But, in honesty, children just weren’t a part of her future plans or something she genuinely desired. She loved kids. She simply didn’t want any of her own.

Scarlett grinned. “But you want your boss.” When Rebecca didn’t reply, Scarlett pounced. “Come on. Give us the dirt. We’re your besties.”

Tough argument when she was right.

Fine. Rebecca crossed her arms. “Yes, I like him. Yes, I think he likes me, too. No, we’re not officially seeing each other. But he kissed me last night.” And, geez. Her girly parts were still excited.

Dorothy smiled.

Scarlett went for the jugular. “I knew it. I knew it. How was the kiss? I’ll bet it was hotter than a frog in a frying pan.”

A laugh, and Rebecca rubbed her forehead. “Let’s just say it was a good thing I was sitting down. My legs wouldn’t have held me upright.”

“Nice.” Dorothy flashed a grin. “You deserve some good vibes.”

“Agree.” Scarlett flipped her hair over her shoulder, obviously not finished with her interrogation. “Like, Alice down the rabbit hole, kinda good kissing?”

Forest’s truck pulled in the lot and parked.

“Yes, now hush.” Rebecca gave Scarlett the stink eye to behave, then watched Forest exit the truck.

The passenger door opened, and…Graham climbed out.

Lord help her, but he looked darn sexy in a pair of jeans and a gray tee. He normally wore suits to work, which was fine. A well-dressed man was attractive. But give her down-home slumming for the win. His backside filled the denim as if tailored for him and the shirt emphasized the lean, muscular shape of his build. Sunlight changed his ebony strands to something closer to navy. Disheveled and morning bedhead was yummy. Those eyes, though. So vivid green in stark sunlight.

“Well, butter my biscuit,” Scarlett teased.

Dorothy elbowed her. Hard.

Rebecca suddenly found herself unsure how to behave around him. Did they act like normal? Nerves pinged her belly and did a waltz. They were in the company of friends. Perhaps she’d just follow the leader and figure it out.

Wondering why he was here, she stayed mute. Graham hadn’t mentioned anything about accompanying Forest. Then again, the meeting had been called at the last minute. Something about the Historical Society’s verdict on renovations. She had been itching to hear news since the call an hour ago. They all had been on pins and needles, in fact. Their plans for the library depended on what they’d say.

“Hope it’s all right I came.” Graham smiled, rendering Rebecca’s brain cells toast. “I haven’t seen the infamous library up close yet.”

“You’re welcome anytime.” Scarlett winked.

“Never mind her,” Dorothy said. “She had too much coffee with her sugar this morning. She’s not actually flirting. And, yes, we’re happy to show you around.”

“I think you mean sugar with my coffee.”

“No, I meant just what I said.” Dorothy squinted, side-glancing their friend.

He nodded, grin implying amusement. “I appreciate the hospitality.”

Scarlett fidgeted with her short blue sundress. “I got a baby shower at the plantation in two hours. What’s the verdict?”

“Well,” Forest sighed. Shuffling papers in his hand, he frowned.

Oh, crap. Rebecca’s heart sank. The Historical Society had vetoed the changes. All their ideas and plans wouldn’t come to pass. They’d have to draw new ones and submit them again, and there was no guarantee those would get accepted. Those blueprints were what would work the best. All their agony over the past six months…

“They approved everything.”

Silence hung, then Forest slowly grinned. Wide.

“No,” Dorothy breathed, eyes round. “Seriously?”

“Seriously.” He shrugged. “I inserted my two cents by telling them the changes were completely necessary and that our Belles would never disrespect history. Plus, I think Rebecca’s plug in the paper showed them how transparent you were being about the renovations.”

There wasn’t a shadow of doubt in Rebecca’s mind that if he hadn’t gone to bat for them, this wouldn’t have worked out in their favor. He was Vallantine’s golden boy, and his word was bond.

“Yes!” Scarlett let out a hoot, fists raised. “I would climb you like an oak if I weren’t in this dress, Forest Truman.”

“I’m not wearing a dress.” Giddy bubbles exploded in Rebecca’s chest. “Incoming.”

Forest must’ve guessed her move, because on her way to launching herself at him, he tossed papers at Graham and opened his arms to catch her. Legs around his waist, arms circling his shoulders, she hugged the spit outta him.

“Thank you so much.”

He laughed. “You’re very welcome.”

Glancing over his shoulder, she caught Graham’s disapproving expression a half-second before Scarlett and Dorothy swooped in for a group hug.

Forest let out an oomph, then laughed again. “If I’d known this was all it took…”

Scarlett lifted her head. “Get in here, Graham.”

“Um.” He shook his head. “Forest and I don’t have a hug-it-out kind of relationship.”

Forest grunted. “He’s not comfortable in his masculinity.”

“Whatever, dude.”

A roll of her eyes, and Rebecca extracted an arm. Snatching a fistful of his shirt, she dragged Graham against them, and papers scattered on the ground.

Face smooshed in Forest’s shirt, Graham sighed. “Okay, then. Five-some it is.”

Dancing in place, Scarlett backed away and squealed. “This is amazing!”

Forest set Rebecca on her feet as the others created a respectable distance once again. He bent to retrieve the scattered paperwork while Graham smoothed his tee with both hands, his cheeks flushed.

“I’m going to call contractors.” Dorothy whirled toward her car, then paused. “Is there anything else?”

“No, ma’am. We’re good.” On what seemed like an impulse, Forest brushed a strand of auburn hair away from her cheek. Dorothy’s eyes widened, and he froze. “I’m sorry. You just had a piece of hair, and… Sorry.”

Seemingly not breathing, Dorothy shook her head. “Totally okay. Thanks. I’ll go now.”

“Oh!” Rebecca snapped her fingers. “Anyone have plans tonight? I thought maybe we could get together for drinks or something. Including Aden, so Graham can meet him?”

“That sounds like a terrible idea.” Scarlett narrowed her eyes, smiling. “What time?”

Dorothy laughed. “I’m free.”

Forest and Graham nodded.

Scarlett’s thumbs went to work on her cell. “Graham, what’s your number?”

He rattled it off.

“I’ll send a group text and we can decide where and when. I included Aden.”

“Sounds good. Bye, y’all.” Dorothy waved. “See you tonight.”

A few minutes later, Scarlett took off, too.

Rebecca sighed dreamily, unable to fight her stupid smiling. Things were finally falling into place, and her heart was full. The library, her career, even something blooming with Graham. It felt surreal.

“Wanna see the library?” she asked him.

His grin was amped to high voltage. “Absolutely.”

“You two go ahead.” Forest held up the papers. “I’ll get these reorganized and wait in the truck.”

Graham shook his head. “I’ll walk home from here. Head out. I’ll catch up with you tonight.”

They waited for Forest to leave, then she dug the keys out of her purse.

“Just a warning, it’s in pretty bad shape, but now that we’re cleared with the Historical Society, we can fix that soon.”

His smile softened, gaze sweeping her face. “You look really happy.”

“I am.” The emotion felt foreign since it had been so long since she’d experienced it.

Reaching out, he lightly tapped a finger to her nose. “You’re wrinkling it again. You do that when you’re excited or embarrassed.”

“Eh.” She covered the body part in question. “Bad poker face.”

His smile slipped to endearment, his gaze warm. “Could be worse things than honest, Rebecca.”

“Very true.” Motioning toward the library, she pivoted. “Let me show you my childhood sanctuary.”

A nod, and they climbed the porch steps. As she put the key in the lock, he placed a hand over hers to still her motion.

“Hold on a sec.”

Before she knew what hit her, he grabbed her waist, spun her around, and had her back pressed to the door. Hands in her hair, he sealed his lips to hers.

And, gosh. Last night hadn’t been a fluke. Firm, warm, and cajoling. He kissed like his personality. To the point while listening to feedback. A team player, yet demonstrating knowledge. Tender and direct. Potent.

Ah, geez. That bergamot scent of his. She would gladly drown in it.

A tingle shot through her, and she arched toward him. Heat blasted, and it wasn’t from the warm day. Never in her life had she had such a strong reaction to a kiss. Last night or now. It was as if he’d climbed inside her mind to find all her triggers. A brush of his lips. A stroke of his tongue. His hands slid down her back to rest at the curve of her spine and twitched as if he wanted to do more with them. She dug her fingers in his thick, soft hair and clutched the strands. He inhaled. Hard. Her head spun. Too much and not enough.

A groan, and he full body pressed her against the door, aligning their torsos and tangling their legs. Hard and unyielding, he trapped her. And she never wanted to be freed.

He mumbled something she didn’t understand and slid his mouth across her jaw, down her throat.

She trembled at the new assault. “Whatever you say.”

He chuckled against her skin. “Did you even hear me? I don’t think that was coherent.”

“No,” she panted, lids pinched closed. “I don’t care, though. The answer is yes.”

Smiling, he lifted his head, and they shared oxygen. “I said, I’ve been wanting to do that all day.”

“What took you so long?”

He laughed, brushing a thumb across her lower lip. “Don’t know what I was thinking. Shame on me.” He let out a breath, gaze seeking hers. “Does this mean we’re dating? A couple? Together? I’m not real clear on logistics.”

She wasn’t sure, either, but she smiled. “I would like that, if you’re interested.”

“I’m definitely interested.” He paused, gaze assessing. “I think the town already believes we’re seeing one another.”

“Mmmhmm. Welcome to Vallantine, where everybody is up in your business.” The townsfolk had an uncanny way of fueling rumor to become fact or driving persuasion. “It’s not all bad.”

“I’m just not used to it.” He waved the comment away. “We haven’t discussed much by way of preferences.” He scratched his head, face contorted in thought. “Are there rules?”

The poor guy seemed more lost than her with where to go next. “Like passing Go and collecting two hundred bucks?”

“Smartass. I was thinking more along the lines of avoiding the straight to jail card.”

Monopoly references aside, she welcomed the gesture. “Why don’t we spend some time together and see where it leads. Play it by ear?” Like she’d told him before, her experience wasn’t vast with regards to relationships, but he appeared to need direction, which she could appreciate. “Exclusive, though. No one else in the mix, and we don’t let it affect work. If it doesn’t pan out, we remain civil.”

He nodded, a hint of a smile curving his lips. “Okay.”

“Ready to see the library?”

“Probably a better plan than giving the town an eyeful on the porch.” Nodding again, he stepped back. “Lead on.”

Turning the key, she pushed the door open, and giddy euphoria swamped her. How she adored this place, even if it was in shambles. Mildew and dust coated her throat as she walked to the middle of the room behind the center counter.

His gaze took in the floor-to-ceiling shelves flanking both walls, the chandelier, and the loft before he crossed his arms. “It’s bigger than it looks from the outside.”

She supposed it did, but the library had been emptied of furniture and books, which could affect first appearances. “We’re adding an addition to the back wall there,” she pointed, “which will help with space. Upstairs will be a bookstore, while down here will stay a library.”

He bumped his chin in approval. “Great plan. There’re only a couple places in town that sell books, and one of them caters specifically to rare titles. The other isn’t exclusively books.”

Their thinking exactly. She smiled. “We’ll sell mostly newer fiction in specific genres. We’ll also have an Indie book section.”

Head back, he kept his gaze everywhere at once. “Amazing building. Seriously amazing. I can understand why the Society was supervising and worried about changes. You just don’t find places like this anymore.”

How he spoke her language was sexy.

They walked the perimeter, and she gave him highlights of memories with her besties.

Shoving his hands in his back pockets, he grunted. “Is that why they left you three the library? All the time you spent here?”

“Partly.” She tilted her head. “When we were in eighth grade, Miss Fillmore was our favorite teacher. She was kinda shy, but she really understood us on a level better than most adults. She encouraged and bolstered us. We wanted her to be happy. Of course, being teenage girls, we first jumped to romance by way of a thank-you. Mr. Brown was awkward in an endearing way. He talked to us like our opinions mattered and tolerated us hanging around. We set them up on a date one spring, and they got married not long afterward. A match made in heaven. Or, in a library.”

She sighed, suddenly feeling whimsical. Whether the location or the memories, she didn’t care. “Through the years, he tried so hard to save this place. Once, he told us it was like putting a bandage on an amputation. He was the last living Vallantine descendant. You could tell he was torn between familial obligation and the desire to live his life. I think he just hit his breaking point one day. The next thing we know, Dorothy’s meeting with Gunner Davis for the deed, Mr. and Mrs. Brown had sold their house, and they’d left Vallantine to roam the country in an RV. I learned via Zoom while in Boston.”

Brows raised, he shook his head. “That’s insane, and one helluva story.”

“It is, and all true.” She shrugged. “Their letter said we helped them find love and that no one would love this place better than us. Now, it’s ours,” she whispered, hardly believing it herself. “We’d had such foolish, idle dreams as girls. This was one dream we never expected to come true.”

“I don’t know the Browns, but just listening to you tells me they did the right thing.”

She closed her lids to the sudden emotion, her throat tight, eyes damp. Somehow, she’d needed to hear that, and not from townsfolk invested in the library’s history or waiting for an outcome. Graham hadn’t grown up here. His opinion wasn’t swayed by sentimentality. Without realizing it, he’d said the solitary thing she’d somehow been waiting for in order to accept the gift she and her besties had been given. Though happy, a strange sort of remorse had surrounded the whole affair, but that guilt no longer sat on her chest.

Turning away from him, she pretended to examine the circular stairs to the loft and cleared her throat. After blowing out a watery breath, she smiled. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

If he’d noticed her struggle to wrangle her emotions, he didn’t point it out, and she was immensely grateful. She’d always been uncomfortable showing a tender side to the world. Even Scarlett and Dorothy hadn’t been privy to a lot of her moods, and they would never judge.

“How true are the rumors of haunting?”

Hand to her forehead, she laughed. He didn’t seem the type to believe in the paranormal, which made his question funnier. In fact, he’d outright said as much a few days prior.

“I think the rumor started with our parents’ generation. Though, to hear Gunner Davis tell the tale, it had been going on long before.” Using her arms as leverage, she set her hands on the center counter and hoisted herself onto the edge, letting her legs dangle. “Stories about Katherine Vallantine aren’t typical ghost lore. More like they’re wrapped in a flowery fanciful myth.”

“How so?” Intently watching, clearly interested, he leaned against one of the empty bookcases.

“Well, take Miss Katie, for instance. The peach tree at the center of town supposedly grants wishes. It was the first in town to be planted, and all because she loved the fruit. William and Katherine had an epic love story. Seriously, it was one for the ages. In a time when women had few rights or zero control, her husband’s motive for all he said and did revolved around her. It’s as romantic as their death was tragic. The pieces of their life they’d left behind serve as a reminder of that love.”

A sly smile. “And does Miss Katie actually grant wishes?”

They’d had this conversation a couple days ago, too, but he seemed more open-minded today.

She thought about all the instances where she’d visited the tree as a girl. “I don’t know. It hasn’t in my case.” Not yet, anyway.

A grunt, and he bumped his chin toward her. “And the library?”

“It was built by William for Katherine because she loved books. It survived the hurricane that killed them.” She shrugged because he knew that. “She doesn’t roam about scaring people or show herself at all. The legend is that she assists all who enter seeking knowledge. I’m unsure how true that part is, but I know when Sheldon and Rosemary Brown were holed up here during another hurricane, back before they were married, they’d fallen asleep on a couch. When they woke, Katherine Vallantine’s journal was on the floor in front of them. It had been on the top shelf,” she pointed to the twenty-foot shelving unit, “and hadn’t been seen since Sheldon’s grandfather ran the library. Oddly enough, Sheldon had mentioned the diary while talking about the building’s history to calm Rosemary down over the storm.”

“Huh.” He scratched his chin. “Neat story, if it’s true.”

“Have you heard about that online challenge going around? While on a date, you relay one truth, one lie, and something you wish were truth or lie?”

“Yeah.” He crossed his arms. “Instagram or something, right? A way to get to know your partner better.”

“Correct.” She paused. “That’s based loosely on Katherine and William’s courting period. The tradition was handed down. Sheldon and Rosemary played it the night the journal appeared.”

“Alrighty.” His brows wrinkled. “How’d a blogger get ahold of it?”

“One of my Boston contacts. I told her the tale to get better exposure. She never did write the backstory, though, just the game portion.”

“Might be better that way.” He winked. “It can stay a Vallantine secret.”

“Yeah.” Hopping down, she laughed. “Ready to go?” She’d woken up in more pain than usual this morning, and she wanted to take an extra dose of her antioxidant, followed by a nap. Especially if they were going out tonight. Caffeine wasn’t touching her fatigue, either.

“Sure.” He headed for the door, and waited until they were both on the porch before speaking again. “We should play the truth challenge.”

“I’m up for it, soon as we have a first date.”