Keeping You (Crash Into You #1)

Chapter 1

Chapter One

Callie

I’m late for work. Again. It’s becoming a habit, but I’m powerless to stop it.

My arms strain under the weight of the donation box from the monthly book drive that’s awkwardly balanced in my arms as I rush from my car toward the side entrance of Cupid’s Creek Public Library.

The cardboard edges dig into my forearms, threatening to give out before I reach the door.

Rachel, my assistant librarian, is going to give me hell.

I guess it’s a good thing I’m the boss and she’s my new best friend.

Some days, I wonder if driving extra miles for breakfast and carrying other people’s discarded books into a building that sometimes feels more like home than my actual house is all there is.

Life in Cupid’s Creek moves like molasses, slow and sweet on the surface, but underneath, it sticks to everything, making it hard to move forward or back.

Just as I reach for the door handle while performing an impressive juggling act with the box and my coveted bag of blueberry muffins, something across Main Street catches my eye, and I freeze, my cargo nearly slipping from my grip.

Harper Caldwell is standing outside her family’s bakery, giving the main window a thorough wash until it’s gleaming in the early morning sunlight. She’s wearing that gorgeous yellow sundress I gave her for her birthday last year. She looks like she doesn’t have a care in the world.

As if she hadn’t completely destroyed mine eight months ago.

My throat tightens. At least tears no longer threaten whenever I see her. The stages of grief work for friendships, too, I suppose. Denial quickly turned into depression some time ago and stuck around for a while, but I’ve finally managed to shift into anger mode.

Friends since before we started kindergarten, we grew up doing everything together.

Swimming lessons. Dance lessons. Homework.

Hell, I spent more time at her house than I did at my own.

Harper’s grandmother taught me to bake, or tried to.

We shared our hopes, fears, and dreams during countless sleepovers, huddled under blankets while watching scary movies our parents had forbidden.

We scrapbooked our wedding themes and imagined what our future husbands would look like.

We promised to always be friends.

Oh God, there’s Kirk, sneaking up behind her. How the hell did I miss him?

While I watch, unable to move or tear my eyes away, his hands find her waist in a playful tickle before pulling her into a hug.

The familiarity of his actions twists something deep in my gut.

For a long moment, all I can do is stare at them, my feet glued to the ground as she spins in his arms and beams up at him like he’s her sun.

The betrayal I thought I’d plowed through is apparently still as fresh as a dozen buttery croissants straight out of the bakery’s oven. Not far behind that reaction, however, come a few others. Pain. Hurt. Sadness. And finally, anger again. I can deal with anger.

Harper claimed they only got together after Kirk and I broke up. But I suspected he was cheating on me long before that. Never in a million years did I imagine it would be with my best friend. Since then, they’ve been flaunting it for the whole town to see.

It’s like watching someone burn your favorite books while smiling and telling you they’re just keeping you warm.

Dragging my gaze away, I push through the door and head straight to my office in the back, where I set my load down with more force than necessary on my desk. The thud echoes through the room.

“That you, Callie?” Rachel’s voice calls out, probably from behind a shelf of Young Adult books.

Thank God for Rachel. A New Yorker who moved to Cupid’s Creek and married a local rancher, she’s become my right hand at the library.

After working at the Bluebonnet Cafe when she first arrived in town, she loves helping people, but wanted something less demanding while she finishes out her first pregnancy.

Additionally, she shares my deep love of reading. Or perhaps she just had sore feet.

“Sorry, I’m late,” I yell back, taking a deep breath to compose myself before we come face to face. “Had to drive to Juniper for breakfast.”

Rachel appears in the doorway, her hair pulled back in a ponytail, and a pair of black-rimmed glasses perched on the end of her nose.

Some days, I can’t tell if she truly needs them to see or if Travis goes for the sexy librarian look.

With that baby bump starting to show, I bet the whole package drives him wild.

“You know, you could get your muffins at the bakery. Right across the street.” She eyes me knowingly.

“They’re not as good,” I lie. We both know that’s not the reason.

The bakery, just like the Blue Bonnet, is a Cupid’s Creek staple and part of my childhood.

As are the women who run them. If the café hadn’t suffered a kitchen fire last week and they were still cleaning up, I would have stopped there for my breakfast. But since I couldn’t, and no way am I stepping foot inside the bakery, I had no choice but to drive to the next town over.

While I nibble on a muffin, Rachel and I discuss our plans for the day and set our priorities.

By the time I make my way to the front desk, I’m not surprised to see Martha Jenkins and her sidekick Gloria Sheffield already hovering near the new releases section.

They’re not here to check out books; they never are.

They’re here to see who comes into the library today so they can decide where to station their eavesdropping ears.

But we love them regardless of their tendency to gossip.

“Good morning, Callie, dear,” Martha coos, her eyes gleaming with that look that tells me she’s just bursting to say something. And given the gleam in her eye, it’s not going to make my day.

I glance up at the wall clock. It’s not even eight-thirty.

“Did you see what’s happening across the street? The nerve of those two, carrying on like that in broad daylight. It’s shameful, it is.”

I busy myself organizing the return cart that I didn’t get to yesterday, and force as much sunshine into my voice as I can muster. “I didn’t notice.”

“Well, I certainly won’t be buying my pies there anymore,” Gloria chimes in as she sidles up to me and pats my arm sympathetically. “Loyalty means something in Cupid’s Creek.”

Gloria’s speaking as though Harper is a newbie in town. The Caldwells have been here almost as long as my family.

“That girl’s father would be rolling in his grave if he could see how she’s behaving,” Martha adds in a stage whisper. “Sheriff Caldwell was such a good man. Nothing like his children.”

The mention of Sheriff Caldwell brings a slight ache to my heart. He was always kind to me, especially when I was hanging out at their house with Harper. He passed away four months ago after a brief illness, and I couldn’t even attend the funeral because by then, Harper and I weren’t speaking.

“Now, now, Anna is a gift,” Gloria reminds us all. “That girl takes after her grandmother. I was so pleased when Edith passed the bakery on to her.”

“Yes, of course,” Martha agrees. “I’m sure the sheriff is proud of his oldest. It’s the other two I’m sure he wonders about.”

“Let’s not speak ill of the dead, Martha,” I say quietly, purposefully trying to redirect the conversation.

Both ladies wander away whispering amongst themselves, and I can finally get back to work.

Despite everything, I’m proud of what I’ve built here.

The Cupid’s Creek Public Library isn’t just a collection of books; it’s a community hub.

Since taking over as head librarian two years ago, I’ve revamped the children’s corner, started three different book clubs, and created a cozy reading nook that’s perfect for story hour.

The board has been very pleased with my accomplishments.

After my public meltdown on the sidewalk, after I discovered Kirk and Harper were a couple, people I’ve known my entire life make a point to stop into the library at least once a week to see how I’m doing, including those who have never read a book in their lives.

There’s something comforting in knowing they have my back.

A little while later, I’m just helping a young mother find a picture book about dinosaurs for her little boy when the unmistakable rumble of a motorcycle interrupts the building’s peaceful hum.

There aren’t many in town, and this one has a distinctive growl to it, the noise growing louder as it approaches.

While Martha and Gloria practically sprint to the windows, I head to the open front door to get the best view.

Soon, every person in the library is pressed up to a piece of glass to watch it slowly and loudly make its way down the street.

A huge, low-slung black motorcycle slows to a crawl and comes to a stop in front of the bakery.

The thing is a beast, all shiny chrome and black casings, but it’s covered in bugs and dust, like it’s come a long way.

I think we all collectively hold our breath as the rider kicks the stand into place and turns off the engine.

The ticking is loud in the sudden quiet, but I can see its arrival has drawn plenty of curious gazes.

The rider stands and swings his jean-clad leg over the seat.

He’s tall and broad-shouldered in dark denim and leather that hugs his frame in all the right places.

He removes the glossy helmet and shakes his head hard before tunneling gloved fingers through dark brown hair.

He’s impressively built, his arms thick, his thighs thicker.

From the side, I can see that his jawline is covered in scruff, the same shade as his hair.

He turns, and our eyes immediately lock. It’s like watching the pages of a story I thought I’d closed forever suddenly flip back open. I inhale sharply as I’m suddenly tossed ass over tea kettle into the past.

Fifteen years to be exact.

Luke Caldwell.

Memories come rushing back whether I want them to or not.

Stolen kisses behind the bleachers, fumbling hands in the back of a truck, whispered promises under the stars.

My first kiss. My first everything. A day I’ll never forget, no matter how hard I try.

It was the way he looked at me—like I was the only girl in his world.

I thought I’d found my forever. That my girlish dreams were coming true.

Then Harper made me choose between him and her. Friends stick together, right? There’s a code and all that.

Didn’t matter anyway. Luke left town after that night, without even so much as a good-bye.

He looks as shocked to see me, but recovers fast, because it’s at that moment Harper comes flying out of the bakery and jumps into her brother’s arms, knocking him back a few steps.

Pain, sharp with disappointment, stabs like a knife, knowing that I can’t walk over and join the reunion. Instead, I watch as he casts me a glance over his shoulder before he grabs his bag from where it’s tied to the motorcycle and disappears inside the bakery with his sister.

The moment the door closes behind them, the library erupts into excited whispers.

“Is that—”

“Luke Caldwell.”

“Sheriff’s son.”

“Always causing trouble, got sent away.”

“Heard he became a cop himself.”

“Wonder why he’s back.”

I can’t tear my eyes away from the door they disappeared through.

From my vantage point, I can see through the glass, and I watch him embrace Harper.

Even from this distance, I can see he’s filled out.

No longer the lanky twenty-one-year-old, but a man who commands attention when he enters a room, or simply by standing next to his Harley.

He’s even more handsome now than he was then.

This version is controlled, purposeful, and dangerous in an entirely different way than the boy who used to make my pulse race fifteen years ago.

It’s scary that I can see all that from here, after years apart.

Martha’s shrill laugh pierces through my thoughts, the sound harsh enough to make me wince. She and Gloria are practically pressed against the window like teenagers at a concert, their breath fogging the glass as they push to their tiptoes and crane their necks for a better view.

“Well, well,” she says, her voice dripping with giddy interest. “The prodigal son returns. This ought to liven things up around here.”

Everything about this moment feels like standing on the edge of a cliff—thrilling and terrifying and utterly inescapable.

My pulse hammers against my throat as he turns toward the window, and I suck in a breath that burns my lungs.

I know I should get back to work, but I can’t bring myself to do so.

Every nerve ending screams that he’s watching me.

It’s like he’s taking each of my carefully shelved memories and pulling them all down at once, leaving me to sort through the mess.

The rational part of my brain whispers that I’m being ridiculous, but my heart doesn’t care.

It remembers the way his eyes could strip away every defense I’d carefully built, the way his presence could make me simultaneously invincible and completely vulnerable.

And that was before he realized I existed as more than his little sister’s friend.

These past fifteen years might as well be fifteen minutes for all the protection time has given me.

When I finally force myself to turn around, everyone has already gone back to their business.

The world kept spinning while mine tilted off its axis.

Heart pounding like I’ve just run a marathon, I make my way back to the front desk on unsteady legs.

I need to collect myself. Slip back into the mask of competence I’ve worn for years.

Because Luke Caldwell is back in town.