Chapter 13
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
PRESTON
A brass band was thumping through his skull. A parade marching over his brain. Preston groaned and opened his eyes.
Soft morning light flooded into the living room, blanketing where, impossibly, Harmony Hale slept beside him on his couch. He stared, bewildered by the sight of her. Head nestled upon a throw pillow, the sun tracing the curve of her cheek, she was still and unguarded. No promises and cajoling. No sly smiles or shifting away before you could pin her down. Her long lashes rested just above that dusting of freckles, the cupid’s bow of her mouth faded from last night’s red. Her chest rose and fell gently. Even with her right there, somehow, strangely, he missed her.
Her arm lay stretched toward him, their fingers almost grazing each other on the cushion between them. His twitched.
Her lips parted and drew in a wakeful breath. Those lashes lifted, and Harmony stared back at him. “Good morning.”
They were only a murmur, but the words rolled through his head and stirred nausea through his gut. “Ughh.”
“Yeah, you had a wild night.” Harmony stretched, her knuckles brushing his.
Wait. He fought to sort through drunken memories rising from the sludge his mind had become. How wild? “We didn’t—?” Was he worried they had or worried they had and he couldn’t remember it? How wild?
Harmony dropped her hand to her chest. “Excuse me, I don’t take advantage of inebriated librarians, I am a gentleman.”
He pinched the bridge of his nose. “You’re a menace.” He was dying. His mouth felt like death. That throbbing in his temples was actually church bells tolling for him. Too loudly for him to even fully take in or deal with how Harmony, sitting up, cringed at the bright smear of lipstick she’d left on the pillow, before furtively turning it over and giving it a pat. “What are you doing here?”
“You asked me to stay.”
“Why would I do that?” He’d definitely been so very drunk. “Oh, god, what time is it?” His phone was jutting into his hip, because, he was realizing, he’d slept in his clothes, on this couch, and it was disorienting and wrong, and oh god his phone said it was almost nine . “Lacey’s going to be back soon. I have to shower. I have to change.” He had to throw up.
He ran for the kitchen.
“That’s okay, I can make breakfast.” Harmony’s voice followed him. “You need some protein in you. Do you have eggs?”
He braced his hands to the side of the sink, but no relief came. He whirled on her. “You can’t be here.” All the parenting books he’d read after taking charge of Lacey made the importance of this rule very clear. No bringing women home unless they were long-term. Serious. It especially wouldn’t be fair to Lacey, who deserved to feel comfortable enough to speak in her own home. Harmony was only in Brookville short-term and was the least serious person he knew. Or maybe the most serious? She was seriously maddening.
Like now, how hurt rounded her eyes. How he couldn’t read if that was true or false. He felt sick and dangerously close to a meltdown and tried to explain the rule he was desperately clinging to. “It’s the rule. We’re not”—he waved his hand between them—“together.”
She gave a half-hearted grin. “We could be.”
No space between his pounding headache and his racing panic to process if she could possibly be serious—or how his heart got in on the pounding and racing at the idea of it. “You have to leave.”
“Preston, can we—”
His hand kept waving. Both of them now. “Please, go .”
Her voice went flat. “Of course.” She gathered up her shoes from beside the couch and was out the door.
It was only after he’d dragged himself through a shower and was feeling slightly more himself, dressed and coming back downstairs with only a moderate thunderstorm flashing through his skull with every step, that it dawned on him what an incredible asshole he’d been. But it also occurred to him that he’d left his bike at the Moonlight, and he didn’t have time to walk over and get it, and he was possibly still too drunk and definitely too upset to drive his twelve-year-old Civic, and Dani had to be at the gallery in Heraldale by ten, which was why she was going to show up any minute and—
He opened the front door to find his bike propped against the porch rail.
It had to have been Harmony. Somehow. Why would a steel bike lock stop her?
But as the weekend passed and Harmony failed to show up at his front door, or track him down at the farmer’s market, or stop by the concert he took Lacey to Sunday afternoon, it seemed as if his behavior had. He’d tried to get her out before she could see the part of him he always, always hid, because it made people run away. But the coolness with which she’d left—it played on a loop inside his head: Harmony stooping for her shoes, walking to the door, pulling it shut behind her. Despite her kindness with the bike, ordering her to leave must have accomplished the same thing.
He’d fucked everything up. Of course he had. That door had closed for good on another person who couldn’t stand to be around him.
He couldn’t do this. After just one night trying, he’d made such a mess—there would be no more annoyingly adorable pestering, no money for Lacey’s future, no help with the faction in town trying to ruin things at the library.
So he was in a sour mood on Monday, and when two women from the bar that misguided night showed up at the library and began poking around the juvenile fiction section, he was immediately sure Cheryl had sent her friends on some sort of book-banning reconnaissance mission. Until they drifted over to where he was pulling books for a cart for that afternoon’s teen anime club and definitely not spying on them.
“Oh, Preston!” Libby Reed, from the school board, said. “We were hoping to talk to you.”
They’d probably notice if he ran for the break room. He remembered how he’d overreacted thinking Harmony wanted to yell at him about books, and planted his loafers on the speckled carpet.
Bonnie Kelton—her daughter was always requesting those elf books—smiled at him. Was this an I’m about to say something to crush you and I’m acting fake-nice to pretend it’s not awkward smile, or a real smile? “I couldn’t put down the book Harmony lent me the other night. Finished it in a sitting. Libby’s already halfway through it.”
Her friend nodded. “It was so great to run into you the other night, because we’ve been trying to find a book club to join—”
Bonnie broke in, “You and Harmony were so cute together at the piano!”
“It’s nice to see you having some fun,” Libby agreed, “after, well, everything. But we wanted to ask you if you could recommend more books like that?”
It had worked. He wasn’t even sure by what alchemy Harmony had managed it, but they were here because they wanted more books like one of the ones on Cheryl’s list? “We can find the right book for everyone,” he told them. “What about it did you like?”
“Oh!” Libby bent her blonde head, considering. “Well, I guess I like how it’s not just about miserable people. Or women with no hope, you know? That was why I quit the last book club I was in. It gets old.”
“I loved the setting,” Bonnie gushed. “I didn’t know how much was made up or not, but it was so gorgeous—and the twists! I could actually get through this in time for a club.”
Preston walked over to the next shelf and grabbed The Girl Who Fell Beneath the Sea , another young adult retelling, this one of a Korean folktale. “This one’s great, I bet you’ll like it. I can pull more for you to choose from before any book club meeting.”
“I’m not hosting,” Libby said with a stern look at Bonnie, who was already flipping through her new book. “I do not have time to organize another thing. I’ve already got the big church fair coming up, and Evan Sargent roped me into spearheading the food drive this year, and then it’s election season.”
“You know,” Preston offered, “we have several book clubs that meet at the library. We often showcase related books and sometimes have speakers in too. If none of those seem like a good fit we’re always happy to start another, with a focus on strong female protagonists, or fantasy, whatever you like.”
The women shared a pleased look. “That would be fantastic,” Libby said.
“Heidi runs the adult programs like that. I’ll let her know.”
Bonnie narrowed her eyes at him. “Did Harmony tell you who the headliner for the festival is going to be? She was dropping hints at the Moonlight but wouldn’t say.”
“No,” Preston said, firmly ignoring how his heart made a little twinge every time at Harmony’s name. “I don’t know.”
“Well, I just wondered because she’d mentioned again asking you to help her with some local planning.” Bonnie raised her brows, ready to scoop up any offered gossip. “And you two have gotten so close since she’s been in town.”
What did that mean? Trust Harmony to have done a parade down Main Street rather than a walk of shame. Not that she had anything to be ashamed of—he was the only one who did, which shadowed the rest of his day, despite the promising signs of Cheryl’s circle coming around. But Harmony wouldn’t be looking to him for any help, not now. She wouldn’t be waiting to pounce on him when he got off work at three. She certainly wouldn’t be sitting on the low wall of a planter along the steps outside the library—
But she was Harmony, and there she was among the roses, standing up and looking at him expectantly as he closed the distance between them.
“I wanted to apologize,” he told her right away. “But I didn’t have your number or know where you were staying.”
She shrugged. “Oh, I just find a different guy each night at the Moonlight and crash with him.”
His face must have done something because her eyes crinkled and she gently said, “Joking.” She bit her lip. “And I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to mess up your routine so badly.”
“That’s no excuse for how I acted after you helped me. I was an ass. I’m sorry.” His thumbnail scraped over the bottom of his jacket, practically murdering the corduroy’s wale. He’d sign that land lease and let her go.
“Should we have like a code word for if you need some space?” Her eyes glinted. “Tequila, maybe?”
He grimaced. “I don’t intend to ever have a hangover that bad again, but sure.” His hand stilled. Did that mean she intended to stick around? “I want to sign the contract. For the land.”
Her eyes flared with surprise, but only delight rang in her voice when she said, “Of course you do. We’ll take good care of it.”
“I trust you. It’s working already. What you did with Cheryl Weaver’s friends.” It was another of her magic tricks; he didn’t understand how she managed all she did, but the force of her was undeniable. Maybe everything would be all right. “And thank you. For bringing my bike home. How did you get the lock open?”
“Are you kidding? You told me the combination when I tried to take your keys back at the bar, before I knew if you’d biked.” She was digging in her purse, for longer than seemed necessary to finally just pull out her phone. “But let me give you my number. You’ll need it while you make it up to me, helping me trial vendors for the festival.”
“What?” He blinked. “I’m doing what now?”
“You want to help make sure the festival’s a success, right?” She looked up at him with wide, bright eyes, but then dropped her gaze again to her phone. “If it becomes annual, Rhythmic will keep renting your land. Maybe even buy it outright. You’ll get everything you want.”
Right. The money. That was the only reason why he went ahead and swapped numbers with her. The only reason he was going along with this, despite thinking she’d come merely to get that contract. It was the responsible thing to do, really. For Lacey’s sake. Not everyone had a successful dad in the entertainment industry and extra cash to throw around on impractical cars and spontaneous donations at the whims of random librarians.
Harmony popped out the grip on the back of her sparkly phone case and then flattened it again. “ And you’ll help keep Cheryl away from me. She’s already dragged me to two mediocre burger joints she insists are the best in the area. One only had turkey patties.” She tilted her head back and her lids dropped half-closed. “God, what I wouldn’t do for one of those fig burgers I had out in Indio.”
“She take you to Anthony’s?” Preston asked.
Harmony looked at him with interest. “No?”
“Of course not, because it’s a true hole in the wall.” To be honest, he preferred carryout to eating there himself. But the food was great, and they had a catering truck that made the rounds to the local sports fields.
“Sounds promising. Wanna go with me to check it out?”
Yes. “I have to get Lacey.”
“Right! No, like, another time.” She tucked her phone away, downcast face pinching.
Had he misunderstood? Had she not meant now? “I have some downtime while she’s in her after-school stuff certain days. If that would work. Or my friend Dani likes to have her over every couple weekends.”
Harmony smiled up at him, and that he understood. That he’d grown familiar with, grown to crave. “We’ll make it work. Text me that schedule. Oh!” She dug again in her bag, much more quickly. “But first.” She flourished a paper from her folio. “Let’s make it official.”