CHAPTER SIXTEEN #2
Today, however, was also the day that the local book club always met.
The last Wednesday of the month at the island library.
And since Sakura Reilly was one of the local librarians, as well as part of the book club, she opened up the space for us, even though the library was technically closed between Christmas and New Year’s Day.
After scheduling all of our social media posts for the business, connecting with a few promotional companies to book our annual summer campaigns with them, and sending the approved proofs for the new beer bottle logos back to the graphic designer, I hopped in my truck and headed to the library.
I’d always been an avid reader, and could sometimes burn through a five-hundred-page book in a day or two. I was already on my eighth book this month, which was why I had to take notes about our book club book. That way I didn’t get stories mixed up and discuss a different book with the members.
My brain buzzed and my belly tingled as I drove through the quiet, puddle-riddled roads of the island toward the library. I changed my shirt three fucking times this morning, trimmed my beard, and even put on some cologne. Fuck, I had it bad.
I was the first to arrive at the library, an idiotic eager beaver, and climbed out of my truck, landing in the deepest of fucking puddles ever to be puddled. My entire Blundstone, as well as my sock, was soaked, and the splash that covered my dark jeans had chunks of dirt and something else in it.
“Fuck!” I barked just as another vehicle pulled in, driving into a different puddle and sending more filthy water splattering up on me. At least Sadie Greenberg had the decency to blanch and mouth an apology at me when she realized what she’d done.
More vehicles quickly funneled in as I sloshed my way to the front door.
Sakura’s car was already in the parking lot, so I knew the door would be open.
I ditched my sopping went boot and sock just inside the front door, and removed the dry ones as well, since being without one shoe and sock felt a little weirder than being without both.
“Merry Christmas, Sakura,” I said when I stepped into the warm meeting room.
Sakura’s husband, Willy, was the local crab fisherman. Their sons, Cash and Dash, were in college, but always came home for winter and summer break to help their dad on the boat.
She spun around from where she was setting up the cookies and beverages, beaming at me, her arms wide. I stepped in for a hug. “Jagger, Merry Christmas.”
She was just a tiny thing, with a black bob sporting streaks of silver, and light-brown eyes. I had to bend down to hug her. “I hope you, Willy, and the boys had a nice day celebrating yesterday.”
“We did. Thank you. I hope you and the family did as well.”
Voices in the hallway quickly gave way to more book club members, so I made sure to grab myself a seat around the table, removing my jacket and hanging it on the chair next to mine.
“Where are your shoes, young man?” asked Oda Vayne, her green gaze fixed on my bare feet. “It’s not summertime.”
“I got a bit of a soaker in the parking lot,” I said, going to the side table to fix myself a hot apple cider. “They’re drying next to the heater by the front door.” I shrugged. “I’ll be fine.”
Oda didn’t seem convinced and made a sour face to say as much as she took a seat across the table from me.
One by one, everyone filed in.
Except for one person.
One person who was always late.
One person who I saved a seat for, because I knew she would be late.
Like a tornado of red hair and rosy cheeks, Raina came barreling into the room with bright, wild eyes.
“Sorry, sorry,” she said, scanning the table and all of our faces for an empty seat.
Her gaze settled on the vacant one beside me and even more color filled her cheeks as she stalked toward it with a huff, removing her jacket and glaring at me when she slung it over the back.
She grabbed herself an apple cider before pulling the chair out and brushing her elbow against mine as she sat down.
“How did you manage this?” she whispered out the side of her mouth.
“Manage what?”
“That we’re sitting together.”
“I saved you a seat, because you’re always late.” I glanced down at her. “Is something wrong?”
Reaching for a white chocolate and macadamia nut cookie from the center of the table, she took a big bite out of it. “No. Everything is just peachy. ”
“So, it’s decided then,” Sakura announced, as our book club meeting came to a close, “next month’s book will be Over the Blue Moon by R.J. Bomber.”
Everyone nodded in agreement, then stood up from their seats. I grabbed a cookie for the road and shoved it into my mouth before I slid my arms into the sleeves of my jacket.
Raina glared at me as she donned her coat.
“What?” I asked, biting off the piece of cookie in my mouth.
“You’re up to something. I don’t know what … yet. But you’re up to something.”
I rolled my eyes and headed out of the meeting room. “And you’re way too suspicious. Did you have a nice Christmas?”
I stepped to the side so everyone else could pass, and pulled on my still drenched sock and boot, making a face of extreme discomfort as I did. They were too waterlogged for the baseboard heater to really do anything in the hour we were in the meeting room.
“Why do you have bare feet?” she asked, her hands on her hips.
I glanced up at her for half a second before resuming the struggle. “Because one foot got soaked when I stepped in a puddle in the parking lot.” Sliding my foot into the boot, I stood up to my full height. “Did. You. Have. A. Nice. Christmas?” I said slowly. “It’s as easy as yes, or no.”
“I did,” she spat out. “Thank you. Did you?”
“I did. Thank you. See, was that so hard?”
“Harder than you think,” she murmured, making me smile.
We were the last to leave, so I held the door open for her, which just earned me another surly glare.
I was beginning to really like her glares.
Her brows furrowed in a cute way, and two deep lines formed between them.
I kind of wanted to grab a felt-tipped pen and trace the lines, just to see her reaction.
She drove Gabrielle’s SUV and parked right beside me.
“Watch for the puddles,” I said, nodding at a big one right behind her left rear wheel.
More glaring as she said nothing, got into the vehicle, and turned it on.
Chuckling, I climbed in behind the steering wheel, then glanced beside me, waved, and smiled. Her confusion just made me smile wider. I much preferred this bizarre purgatory rather than the real ire she felt toward me. At least this was fun. At least this had potential.
She backed out first, and I watched her drive away, waving again when she glanced over at me. She didn’t wave back.
Even though my foot was soaked and my toes squished and squashed together, I did have errands to run after this. So I sucked it up like a big boy, and headed to the Town Center Grocery Store to stock up on food for the week.
And whose SUV should I see pulling into the parking lot just seconds ahead of mine? But one Ms. Raina Aaronson, the world’s cutest, prickliest cactus to ever grace San Camanez Island.
“What the fuck, McEvoy,” she said, gathering her reusable, cloth shopping bags from the back hatch. “Are you following me now?”
“I absolutely am,” I said flatly. “Where are we going next?”
All that earned me was a growl as I grabbed my own fabric shopping bags and headed toward the front door of the store.
I was right on her heels, and admiring the way her wide-legged, gaucho-style, navy-blue pants hugged her perfect little ass as she climbed the stairs.
The plum-purple raincoat she wore made her green eyes greener than ever, and those rosy cheeks from the cold just highlighted her cute little freckles.
She stopped abruptly on the threshold of the store and spun around to face me.
“You start on that side of the store. I’m starting on this side.
” Then, before I could argue, or point out the obvious—that we’d meet in the middle—she headed off to the produce section, leaving me to go to the deli department.
Sure enough, the little rosebush found me in the ethnic foods aisle.
I could make out her growl and agitated stomp from twenty feet away, and smiled to myself as I compared two different brands of pickled jalapeno slices.
“I could have told you that we’d meet in the middle, but you took off before I could,” I said, not bothering to look up at her, but seeing her approach via my peripheral vision.
“I can pretend I don’t know you, if you’d like? ”
“Excuse me, please,” she said, sidling up right beside me and having to reach up onto her tiptoes to grab a can of green chilis.
Her arm brushed my shoulder before I stepped out of the way.
But she was too short, and the cans were pushed too far to the back of the shelf.
Her grunts and growls of surmounting frustration had me rolling my lips inward to keep myself from smiling.
“Would you like some help, miss?” I asked, pretending I didn’t know her.
“I’m fine. If you could just step aside, please.”
I did as she requested, but she was still too short.
With a huff, she dropped back down to her heels and spun to face me. “Could you please grab me two cans of the green chilis?”
“I would be delighted.” Without breaking a sweat, or even lifting onto my tiptoes, I reached to the back of the shelf and grabbed two cans, plopping them in her basket for her. Then I grabbed two for myself as well.
“Thank you,” she murmured.
“You’re ever so welcome.”
Her eyes formed thin slits before she pushed past me, her arm brushing mine again. She stopped a few feet away to grab a jar of salsa.
We met again at the checkout.
“Long time no see,” I said, putting the partition between our orders on the belt.