Chapter Two
Piper
Another day, another reason to smile. It’s been a busy morning at the library and I’m keeping busy stacking new books and pulling some old ones for the summer sale we do each year. As much as it hurts me to ever get rid of books, we only have so much space and need to make room for new ones. We do have some that will always stay on the shelves, but others rotate in and out. We’re lucky here because we get a lot of donations, which is great, and helps keep our budget healthy.
I finish shelving my books, then make my rounds to help out some of my favorite regulars when the bell on the door chimes. If I’m near the door I always look up to see who’s come in. I can usually tell within seconds if they’ll need help, or if they simply want to enjoy some peace and quiet. I want to always be available without smothering people.
I stop in my tracks when an all too familiar man walks inside my sanctuary, a mouth-wateringly tall, dark-haired man with a strong, chiseled jawline, a delicious body, and an heir around him that simply commands attention.
I’ve had many crushes in life, but I don’t know if I can say a man has ever made my jaw drop before. This man has made more than just my jaw to drop open. I instantly want to run and hide. It’s been a year since I drove him around when I stepped in to help my brother out. I never thought I’d see this man again. Of all the places in the world he could show up, why does it have to be my library?
The man steps forward, his piercing blue eyes scanning the room with an intensity that makes my heart skip a beat or two. When women describe men, we always talk about their looks, their bodies, and their demeanor. This man has an air of confidence about him that suggests he’s used to getting what he wants when he wants it. For some reason this turned me on a year ago, and it’s still affecting me the same way right now. I’m instantly annoyed with feeling this way. I don’t like being annoyed. I choose my mood. I certainly don’t less stressful situations bring me down.
The suit the man’s wearing is completely out of place in our small town, and certainly speaks of wealth and sophistication. I again wonder what in the world is he doing here? Did his chauffeured car break down and he broke his phone? I don’t take this man as someone who comes to many libraries. Everything about him screams control and authority, not casual, book reading nerd. Though the man and I didn’t have deep conversation while I was driving him around, we did have an intimate night together, a night I still can’t forget.
I prefer those geeky men who come into the library any day of the week over snobby men. There’s absolutely nothing wrong with nerds. We’re the ones who rule the world. But I’ve volunteered and worked in libraries since my elementary school days, and men like this one don’t ever appear through the doors. He’s an absolute contrast to the usual patrons who inhabit our beautiful library.
I’m still standing here staring at the man, most likely looking like a fish out of water, when I see him approach Mrs. Hargrove. I see her point in my direction, and quickly decide that I better pull myself together. It’s too late to run now. Maybe he won’t recognize me. It has been a year since we saw each other. My pulse quickens when he turns, makes eye contact with me, then heads in my direction, his strides purposeful and unwavering. It doesn’t take him more than a couple of seconds before he’s standing way too close for my comfort. This is unusual as I don’t normally have a personal bubble that so many others have.
He doesn’t bother with pleasantries. “Hello, Piper. It’s been a while.” He gets right to the point which I don’t know what to think about. “I’m looking for a rare book,” he says, his voice deep and as smooth and rich as molasses.
I internally shout at myself as I take in a nice steadying breath, forcing myself to calm down and act normal. I give him a big smile even if it’s forced. “Of course I can help you. What is it you’re looking for?”
“Endurance by Alfred Lansing. It’s about the journey of polar explorer, Ernest Shackleton who set sail for Antarctica where he planned to cross the last unchartered continent on foot.”
I’m shocked at what book this man is looking for. I know this book, but of course, I know many books, so that’s not a shock, but I’d never take him for a man to read about something that happened in 1915.
“This is a very good book. I know we’ve had copies of it in the past, but each time one comes in we have it in our rare book section for a while, then it sells during our summer sell off. I can check the back to see if we have any current copies now,” I tell him.
“You’d sell a copy you have?” he asks, clearly judging me for this. I get a bit defensive which isn’t like me at all.
“I’d keep every book I can if I had the space for it, but as you can see there are only so many shelves in here, and this is a small town so books like Endurance don’t get checked out a whole lot. I’d keep them myself at my place, but I’m already overflowing with books and literally have nowhere else to add another bookshelf.”
The man’s intense gaze seems to pierce straight through me and I have to remind myself to breathe. What is going on here? I’m an utter mess. The sooner I help this man, the sooner I can get him out of my library. I decide to go to the back and check on his book before I start hyperventilating.
He follows at my side, which I don’t normally mind, but was hoping he’d wait right where he was so I could take a moment to compose myself. My patrons will know something’s up if I tell him to wait for me as they know there really are no restricted areas in my library. I even let patrons come to my office to ask me questions. I like to be open, and feel this library belongs to them as much as to me as we wouldn’t have it in our small town without the funding of the people.
I take him to our back room where our books are categorized for the upcoming sale. I still feel a strange mixture of flustered and intrigued by this man I barely know. I’m thrown completely off kilter.
I move over to the paperwork which lists every book in this section. He stands far too close to me as he reads over the words at the same time as me. I can’t stand the silence any longer. I put on my brightest smile as I try to fill the silence with small talk.
“What brings you to our small town?”
“I’m just passing through, but heard that your library has a reputation for rare books. I thought I’d give it a try as I’ve been searching for this one for a while now.”
“I’m sure you can find it online if you look hard enough,” I tell him.
“I do some shopping online, but I find I like to buy things in person. That way I know exactly what I’m getting,” he says.
“I agree,” I tell him. “Not too many people feel this way.”
“It’s their loss,” he says, his voice still serious. I know well that he’s not a man who enjoys small talk.
I move down the list and spot his book. Now a real smile appears on my lips as I move over to a pile and start looking down the spines. “We might be able to make your day,” I tell him. I’m also trying to fight back my excitement because on the paper it shows a high price for this first edition book. It’s one of the books I was planning to list online because I could never sell it for what it’s worth at our little sidewalk sale.
I pull out the book then hold it like a trophy for a moment before I hand it over. “This is a first edition, first printing in pretty amazing shape,” I say after a moment. “I’ve had it for a few months and have researched it, and the value is fifteen-hundred dollars. I’m willing to negotiate with you, though, if that’s a problem.” I was hoping to get eight hundred dollars out of this as that will provide a lot of new books for our library, but I know it’s hard to sell rare books. The right person has to come along who’s willing to pay the value.
He looks at the book for a moment, a slight gleam in his eyes. At least he’s finally showing some expression. I bet this man is good at business because he’s truly hard to read. That’s why I like books so much. You might be in suspense for a while, but you’ll eventually get the whole story out of it.
“I’ll pay full price,” he says. “I’ve done my own research.”
Of course he has. I barely manage to contain my glee. We’re going to celebrate after this sale. I don’t even know where the book came in from, just one of many of our donations. Most people don’t know the value of the books they’ve had stored in their attics for too many years to count. I’d never take advantage of this if I knew who donated it, and would let them know immediately, but I’m always grateful when we can sell them.
“That’s wonderful. You can do the transaction with Mrs. Hargrove up front. I’ll walk you there and let her know,” I say.
“I appreciate your help,” he says.
“I appreciate your business. Is there anything else I can assist you with.”
There’s a slight hesitation on his part, and then he shakes his head. “No, this will be all. Thank you, Piper.” His words fall off as he holds out his hand.
“Thank you, Mr. Carter.” I immediately stop as I realize I’ve just played my hand, letting him know I remember exactly who he is. His smile grows as he reaches out and takes my hand. I’m nearly shaking in front of him.
“I was wondering how long you were going to pretend you didn’t recognize me,” he says in that deep drawl that’s already gotten me into trouble with him once before. “I also remember telling you more than once to call me Magnus.”
“We’re both well aware you’re not a man to be forgotten. That doesn’t mean I wanted to see you again,” I say in as confident a voice as I can manage.
“You’re not a woman to be forgotten either,” he practically purrs.
“Well, business is done, and I have a lot to do,” I tell him, finally able to rip my hand back away from him.
I can’t stand in this room any longer with him, so I quickly turn and exit, feeling him right on my heels. I walk a bit faster than normal as I take him to the front desk, then tell Mrs. Hargrove the price. I’m grateful for her as she doesn’t even bat an eye though I know she has to be just as excited as me about the transaction. It isn’t often someone walks in to purchase something.
“I’ll leave you to it, Mr. Carter,” I say as I turn to leave. He stops me.
“I like this library. I might have to come back,” he tells me.
This isn’t what I want to hear. I don’t like how flustered I feel around him. “I’m glad you like it, Mr. Carter. I take a lot of pride in the place.” I don’t say anything about him coming back. I don’t know if my hormones can handle it.
His eyes meet and hold mine for a moment too long. The sparks between us seem to ignite though I’m telling myself it’s simply a fluke. I quickly look away. I think I’m doing a fine job of hiding my reaction from him.
“Enjoy the rest of your day, Mr. Carter.” I don’t give him a chance to respond this time before I turn and walk away, and head straight to my office where I shut the door, something I rarely ever do. I lean against it and let out a shaky breath.
I shake this off after a bit too long, and then I go to work on my computer. By the time I come back out, I’m still feeling a bit off, but I’m me and have no doubt that I’ll shake all of this off quickly. Even though my thoughts come back to Magnus a few too many times, I force myself to pull it together.
By the time we close for the day, and I make the walk home, I decide to give Livie a call. She’ll make me feel better about the situation. I put in my air pods then ring her up. She quickly answers.
“How’s it going?” she greets.
“Magnus Carter came in today,” I tell her with a sigh. “I didn’t think I’d ever see him again.”
“Ohhhh, I want to hear more,” she says, her voice instantly perking up.
“The man is still tall, dark, handsome, all of the normal tropes, but he also carries such an air of confidence, authority, and intenseness that I feel like I can’t breathe around him. I honestly can’t remember this ever happening before with any other man but him. Today, he says he was looking for a rare book that I happened to have in the back room. It has to be just a coincidence, right? He bought the book for fifteen hundred bucks which is great, and then he was gone again as soon as he was there.”
“Sounds like somebody still has a crush,” she taunts. I laugh. I knew talking to her was the right move. I make it to my place and walk inside where I quickly throw myself down on the couch.
“It’s a crush that will soon evaporate. I’m sure I’ll never see the man again, which is good, because I certainly don’t need complications in my life, and that is a one-night-stand kind of man which I know very well.”
“Maybe, but sometimes it’s those unexpected encounters in our lives that lead to the best stories,” she reminds me. “Maybe he’s a two-night stand man if he’s back.”
“Isn’t this what I always say?” I tell her.
“There are no rules that I can’t use your own words against you,” she responds.
“He won’t be back, so this isn’t an issue,” I tell her. The sad thing is I don’t think I’d mind having him come back just to see if I still feel as much electricity between us, if for nothing else. It’s simply been a shock to see him again, that’s all.
“If it was as intense as you’re describing, he might come back again and again,” she counters.
“I guess we’ll see,” I say.
We talk for a few more minutes before I hang up. Maybe the man will come back, but most likely he won’t, and my fascination with him will fade away just as it always does when I develop a crush on someone. All good stories eventually come to an end. I know this more than most, and maybe that’s what makes relationships so dang scary for me, not that I’d get into a relationship with a man like Magnus Carter. One night with him was more than enough.
No, that man is a one night and gone sort of man, and I’m not necessarily against that, but with a man like Magnus, he leaves, but the emotions he leaves a woman with aren’t worth the incredibly great sex. Tomorrow I’ll start to forget all about him again and get back to normal. Tonight I might just have to fantasize a bit . . .