Chapter Eighteen
A week later, Tess was, once again, just a girl standing on the steps of the library about to meet a make-believe boy and ask him to love her.
Tess was an old hand at this now. Two disastrous dates down, she didn’t hold out much hope for Gabe’s speed dating event. She should feel jaded. Cynical. Unable to summon up even trace amounts of enthusiasm for the evening ahead.
But as she did a quick make-up and vibe check before she pressed the intercom, she had a quicksilver quickening in her tummy. A mixture of nerves and excitement at the thought of what might lie ahead.
Tess shook out the skirt of her dress. She didn’t want to give any old-timey fellows an attack of the vapours, so she’d chosen a modest maxi dress.
A petrol blue, bell-sleeved, high-necked affair with a shirred bodice.
She’d also affected adorable side braids, which she hoped looked effortless even though they’d taken her half an hour and a lot of swearing.
It was serving milkmaid realness but Tess was an urban dweller now so she’d accessorised with trainers, red lipstick and what she hoped was a nonchalant expression.
‘Tess? Come in.’ Gabe’s dark syrup tones floated from the intercom and immediately there was no longer anything non about her chalant. The slippery sensation in her stomach upgraded to a full-on churning as she pushed open the heavy door and there was Gabe walking towards her.
‘Hi! Hello!’ Tess didn’t know why she sounded as if she’d been huffing helium. She hadn’t even been this nervous when she’d speed dated actual real-life men.
‘Thank you for putting your trust in me,’ Gabe said as he reached Tess.
They weren’t handshaking people. Not really business associates either. But not acquaintances. They’d moved past that. Were they … friends?
Maybe a brief hug, or she could casually touch Gabe’s arm …
While Tess was still debating which approach to take, Gabe lowered his head to almost brush his cheek against Tess’s. But not quite.
Then, before she could even process his nearness, the delicious smell of his aftershave, the heat of him, he repeated the almost brush against her other cheek.
Then he stood back and drank Tess in, his eyes doing a swift up and down, thankfully not lingering on her breasts, which were ever so slightly shuddering, then back up to her face.
‘I like these,’ he noted, lightly tapping a braid with one finger. It took a lot of core strength on Tess’s part not to give a nervous start.
‘Yeah, I’m in my Pippi Longstocking era. You wouldn’t know who she was. No shade. She’s a character from a well-known children’s story. Famously liked a plait.’ She was gabbling. Why was she gabbling? Because the touching had thrown her for a loop.
It had to be the list. Thinking back on it, Tess still couldn’t believe that she had given her clitoris some airtime, but no wonder Gabe had moved into a new phase of their …
whatever this was. This new phase clearly involved touching.
Touching that didn’t have any significance because Gabe had been at great pains to point out that even though he was single, he wasn’t interested in a relationship.
He’d gone into so much detail about how he had no time or inclination or desire to date that Tess had got the message, even though there had also been a lot of confusing information about figs and things.
In short, Gabe wasn’t interested in a relationship with Tess.
Which was fine because she wasn’t interested in a relationship with him.
He might be infuriatingly handsome, but they were completely incompatible.
Gabe had a towering intellect and Tess’s intellect was barely hovering above the ground.
Also, she wanted to love for keeps, bask in it’s glow, be absolutely hooked on love and if it left her, then yes, it would be awful, but it was better to have loved and lost then never loved at all.
So this new phase in their … their … acquaintanceship was a lot like the old phase. Tess could carry on being her truest self with Gabe, the truest self that she would never normally reveal to a single man because this single man wasn’t in want of a wife or any other romantic attachment.
But the new phase did mean that Tess had permission to touch him too. So she punched him on the arm. He wasn’t wearing his shapeless tweed jacket but a charcoal grey shirt, so there was just a thin layer of cotton between her puny fist and his hard, taut, tight bicep.
Because he worked out, but he wasn’t a gym bro.
‘So looking forward to this!’ Tess said with a strange jazz hands gesture, which she instantly regretted.
Gabe smiled gravely. ‘I don’t think you’ll be disappointed. Shall we?’ He gestured with his hand.
‘Lead the way!’ Tess said and followed Gabe into the library.
Usually, she loved to take in the sheer splendour of the space, starting with the beautiful, ornate tiles in the entrance hall, but this evening her eyes were fixed on Gabe’s back.
It was a good back. Strong and capable. He’d had his hair cut since she last saw him and now Tess had a great view of the back of his neck, which looked strangely vulnerable.
Yes, she was going to keep looking at the back of his neck and not let her eyes stray down to his …
‘I’ve set everything up in one of the reading rooms,’ Gabe said, half turning as they entered the library so Tess couldn’t, wouldn’t, shouldn’t look at his arse.
‘Sounds great!’ she assured him, her head bobbing up and down.
‘Hey Tess!’ Mona called out from the Loans Desk. ‘Are you ready to be romanced?’
‘Ready as I’ll ever be,’ Tess called back, which made Gabe glower.
‘I know that it’s exciting, but we are still in a library,’ he said in his sternest voice, which always had the same effect on Tess’s quivering insides. Her insides hadn’t quite got the message yet that he was Not Interested and Never Would Be.
‘Sorry!’ Mona made absolutely no effort to lower her volume. ‘Can’t wait to hear how it goes. Gabe’s been very cagey about your suitors.’
‘I want it to be a surprise and you’re as terrible at keeping secrets as you are at using your indoor voice,’ Gabe said as he led Tess through the main room until they reached the staircase which led to the mezzanine.
It was a wrought iron spiral affair, featuring the same vine leaves and owls which were decorative motifs throughout the library. As Tess carefully made her way up the stairs, the six central steps were each adorned with a Latin word.
‘Amare et sapere vix deo conceditur,’ Gabe said, as he followed behind her. Tess forgot her fears about inadvertently giving him an upskirt moment so she could cling on to the banister. Who knew that boring old Latin could be so hot? ‘Even a God finds it hard to be wise and love at the same time.’
‘I’m not sure I’ve ever managed either,’ she muttered, as she tripped up the top step then peered down at the library. From this vantage point, halfway up to the majestic vaulted ceiling, it looked even more impressive.
‘Defeatist talk like that is strictly forbidden on these premises,’ Gabe said, lightly touching Tess on the elbow. ‘The reading rooms are just down there. We’re in the one at the end.’
Each door was shut. A brass room number faintly gleaming in the shadowy light. The final door was open and a soft glow seemed to draw Tess closer.
Was this more Love Library magic? Was it her romantic destiny urging her on?
No, it was the flicker of what looked like a thousand tea lights placed all around the room.
Gabe took Tess’s open-mouthed silence as approval, which it was but, ‘Isn’t this some kind of fire hazard?’ she asked.
‘There are two fire extinguishers in the corridor outside,’ Gabe informed her a little testily as if he couldn’t believe that Tess thought he cared nothing about health and safety regulations.
‘Plus two fire buckets, a fire blanket and several smoke alarms. We will have to keep the door ajar, but I thought … I hoped the candles might create the right kind of ambience.’
‘They have! They are! I want to properly do the vibe justice but I’m just coming up with a lot of Harry Potter references,’ Tess said apologetically.
Gabe’s mouth twitched. ‘Now that I’m reading novels, perhaps it’s time to acquaint myself with young Potter.’
Suddenly Tess wanted Gabe to read the Harry Potter books more than anything. If ever someone was a Ravenclaw, it was Gabe. While Tess longed to be a Gryffindor, but she was one hundred per cent Hufflepuff. She didn’t make the rules.
Tess looked around in wonder. The small room was wood panelled and with the door shut, it would be entirely enclosed and yes, a terrible fire risk.
There was a raised dais with two wing-backed leather chairs perched on it.
Gabe walked past the dais to a cupboard, opened the door and took out a pile of books.
Not a huge pile but there were at least six books in his hands, which was promising. As was the low table between the two chairs, to which Tess was drawn like a moth to a flame. Or like a woman who could always eat was drawn to a grazing platter.
‘I love picky bits!’ she said happily, though she knew with a deep certainty that she rarely experienced that Gabe would never call the tempting selection of cold meats, slabs of cheese, fruit cut into attractive shapes and plenty of crisps, nuts and crackers, picky bits.
He’d have some fancy phrase for it, possibly in another language.
‘I did promise you snacks,’ Gabe reminded her. ‘I didn’t know if you preferred red or white wine, so I got both. Mona was unrelenting on the subject of cocktails in a can so I got some of them in too.’ He held up a bottle of Sauvignon Blanc. ‘What can I get you?’
‘A glass of that would be lovely, thank you.’ Tess flapped her skirts. ‘I thought the library had a very strict policy about food and drink. In that, it was strictly forbidden?’