Chapter 22
BOOKER
“Hey, can I umm… would it be okay if I…” Miles gestured at an empty square of floor in front of the chair I’d set up in the children’s section for storytime.
There were dark circles under his eyes, he was pale, and he couldn’t seem to keep still. He’d been so busy this week doing everything he could to rescue the library that I’d barely seen him outside of it.
There were a dozen ongoing programs, a new recording booth, what had to be a record-breaking two hundred and fifty-three new cards issued, a complete audit of the library catalogue and a new budget that promised to deliver all that for the same cost as last year.
Miles had worked a miracle in this place. If it wasn’t enough, nothing would be.
I was just afraid I wouldn’t be able to convince him of that if it turned out not to be enough.
“Listen in?” I asked, wishing he had time to snuggle up to me and fall asleep.
Wishing he hadn’t slept in his chair half the night until I realized he wasn’t responding to my texts and came looking for him, that I hadn’t had to scoop him up and take him back to the bar and tuck him into bed, exhausted.
Well, I was glad I’d found him. But I wished he hadn’t had to go through any of this. I’d done everything I could, but I wished I could’ve just waved all his worries away.
Wasn’t the library an obvious good for the community? Why did we have to defend it at all?
“Make sure you’re doing it right,” Miles said, smiling wryly. “You may not know this about me, but I’ve become a connoisseur of children’s literature recently. Gotta make sure the kids are getting the full experience.”
“I could get you a chair,” I offered.
“No,” Miles said, sitting down—or collapsing, more like—on the floor cross-legged, leaning back against one of the short bookcases off to the side. “I’m happy down here. If I snore just… kick me.”
“I won’t,” I said. “You need to sleep.”
“I’ll sleep when I’m dead.” Miles yawned. “I slept last night, anyway. For like. Three or four hours. Thank you for making sure some of them were in a bed.”
“You’re making a habit of sleeping over,” I said, smiling as Miles closed his eyes.
“Your bed is very comfy.”
“You’re always welcome to it,” I said as the kids started arriving, claiming one of the pile of pillows I’d scavenged from around town for storytime to put behind Miles’s head. I wanted to kiss him, just to let him know I was there, but I remembered what he’d said about the kids making fun of him.
And they would have. He’d learn to ignore it eventually, but there was a sensitive soul under all that wool tweed.
He was still figuring things out, and I wanted to give him the time and space he needed for that. Especially right now, while his mind was on other things.
I’d fallen in love with him quietly. I could keep loving him quietly, too.
By the time I’d gotten through my first book and been begged to read another one, Miles was curled up on the floor, snoring softly.
I let him until after the kids had all been picked up by their respective parents, accepting their well-wishes on Miles’s behalf.
Seth had said they’d have a verdict by lunchtime. When I glanced at the clock, it read five past twelve. I wasn’t sure what lunchtime meant to the town council, but it couldn’t be too long now.
Miles woke with a start when I sat down next to him, blinking in the sunlight that flooded the children’s section at this time of day. He relaxed when he saw me, scrubbing his face with a yawn.
“I’m awake,” he said.
“You’ve been awake the whole time,” I agreed diplomatically. “Just resting your eyes.”
Miles’s lips twitched. “Were you a defense lawyer? I never asked.”
“I was more a paperwork guy than a courtroom guy if I could help it,” I said. “I don’t do well under pressure.”
“Could’ve fooled me,” Miles said.
His head tilted just far enough to rest on my shoulder.
In the middle of the children’s section, in the middle of a Monday, when there were still kids and other patrons around.
My heart tripped over itself, then sped up as though it was making up for lost time. I tried not to breathe in case it dislodged him.
“Tell me it’s gonna be okay?” Miles asked.
“It is,” I said without hesitation. It would be. One way or another, we’d figure it out. Even if the council voted no to renewing the budget today, that wasn’t the end. There’d be a way to appeal. I was a paperwork guy and I had an insider on my side. Plus the whole town.
Seth kept telling me people listened to me, and he was right. People did listen to me. I could make them listen to me to keep the library.
To keep Miles. Because that was the thing. The library was important to the community, I got that.
I’d never set foot in it before he’d arrived, though. Miles was important to me.
I didn’t want to face the possibility of losing him over this. I wouldn’t.
“It’s gonna be okay,” I said, firmer this time. Whatever it took, I’d make it okay.
I’d just found what I’d been telling myself I hadn’t been looking for all these years. I wasn’t losing it to an obstinate town council or a budgeting decision. Not while there was still any way to fight.
“I get why you gave up being a lawyer, but I bet a lot of people felt a lot more confident having you handle their case,” Miles said, sighing. “I believe you.”
“Good,” I responded. I turned my head just far enough to breathe in the smell of his shampoo. I wanted to pull him into my lap and hold him as tight as I could while we waited, but this was obviously enough for him. If it was enough for him, it was enough for me.
I could be patient. I’d waited all this time already.
“Besides,” I continued. “The universe owes me one. I’m turning forty tomorrow.”
The party was tonight, since the bar would’ve been closed anyway and that meant I wasn’t interrupting anyone’s plans by closing it for a private party. Not that most of Otter Bay wasn’t invited, anyway.
“Shit, yeah,” Miles mumbled, tongue thick with exhaustion. “Happy birthday.”
“Don’t rush me,” I teased. “I’m not forty yet.”
Miles chuckled. “Looks good on you. More men should be forty.”
“Most will be at some point,” I pointed out, keeping my voice low so I wouldn’t startle Miles out of the doze he was starting to fall into. “Even you, one day.”
“You can wish me happy birthday a day early when I do,” he said.
I opened my mouth to respond before the words hit me. When they did, I couldn’t get any of my own out.
He was planning to be here at forty. Twelve years from now. With me?
I knew it wasn’t a promise of forever or a declaration of undying love, but that it was so easy for him to say still meant something to me. Miles could imagine still being part of my life that far in the future.
If I hadn’t been determined to save the library before, I was now.
Miles’s breathing slowed as he leaned against me, body going limp as he drifted off again. If leaning on me made him feel safe enough to nap under the circumstances, he could nap for as long as he wanted. Even if my butt was threatening to fall asleep.
Miles stayed where he was until Seth burst into the library, face split into a grin that looked bigger than he was from where I was sitting.
“They’ve doubled our budget.”
I hadn’t really expected Miles to show up to my birthday party after the weekend he’d had, but I couldn’t pretend I wasn’t thrilled he was here.
That after everything—including the scramble to allocate twice as much money as he’d budgeted for in the first place—he was still here to celebrate with me.
He’d dressed up for it, too, in charcoal tailored pants and a black velvet blazer over a fitted emerald sweater vest that showed off his tiny waist and made his eyes sparkle.
He’d given me two gifts when he arrived—a small rectangular package that turned out to be a copy of The Iliad, since I’d had to admit I’d never actually read it despite getting the joke about his car’s name, and a gift bag, taped closed, that he’d told me I wasn’t allowed to open until later.
“You look great for forty,” Seth said, jerking me back to reality when I’d been staring a little too long at Miles laughing and talking with Ryder, the two of them comfortably snuggled up together.
Another man might’ve been jealous, but I could see he was happy.
He was the kind of person who loved physical contact with his friends, and I was so glad to see him enjoying it.
Besides, Ryder was devoted to Ward the way swans mated for life.
There was no universe in which he’d ever consider anyone else.
“Thanks,” I said wryly, accepting the drink Seth passed me. “What is this?”
“Sparkling lemon water,” Seth said. “I’m under orders to keep you mostly sober.”
I raised an eyebrow. “Mark?” I asked.
Seth shook his head. “Miles. I’m guessing he has plans for you. I can’t believe I had to find out from him and not my own brother-in-law that you’d finally gotten your act together.”
“He told you?” I asked, surprised.
Seth nodded. “He gave me the impression it wasn’t public knowledge, so I haven’t told anyone else.”
“He needs time,” I said. “I want him to have it. However much he needs. Promise me.”
“Obviously,” Seth said, waving a hand as though it was a no-brainer. “Glad I didn’t set you up with anyone for this after all. Would’ve been awkward.”
“Oh, yeah, that would’ve made it awkward,” I said, sipping my lemon water.
There was a sprig of mint in it, and I recognized it then as one of the mocktails Andre had wanted to put on the bar menu.
Simple, but effective. I’d talk to him when I wasn’t supposed to be celebrating my birthday.
“Not the fact of setting me up in the first place.”
“I would’ve picked someone great!” Seth insisted. “But you’re right, I couldn’t have conjured a Miles out of thin air or anything. The more I see you two together, the cuter you are.”
“I love him,” I said, without really meaning to. It was true, it was so obviously true, and it’d been true longer than I realized, but I hadn’t intended to just blurt it out like that.