Chapter 7
SEVEN
Headlights broke through the haze as the tow truck approached a half hour later. Like last time, it parked in front of her vehicle but idled for several seconds. Joel didn’t emerge, suggesting he’d recognized her car and put two and two together.
Time to be brave, Mallory. You owe it to him. Even more importantly, you owe it to yourself.
Full of determination for the first time in years, she opened the door and stepped out. The sprinkle of mist was so minor that she didn’t bother with his umbrella. In truth, the rain’s cleansing sensation only bolstered her faith as she marched toward the driver’s side of the truck.
Joel stared straight ahead, his hands still clutching the steering wheel. His brow tightened when she neared the window, implying he saw her in his periphery, but he closed his eyes to take a fortifying breath. Alarm weaved into his expression when he finally glanced over.
The door shot open, and he descended from the truck. “For Christ’s sake, don’t stand around in the rain.”
A soft smile swept over her face. “I kind of like it.”
Clouds darkened the sky above, but the never-ending storm inside her soul was clearing, a shimmer of sunlight befalling her for the first time in ages. The work was only beginning, and it would be a long and arduous process, but fear no longer imprisoned her.
“You can wait in the truck until I finish.” He moved past her, bound for the tow. “I don’t want you getting sick.”
“I’ve been sick for ages. But I think I’m finally starting to get better.”
It was pointless to hold on to the woman she’d once been, no reason to yearn for a triumphant return. The old Mallory was a mere memory at this point, and it was okay to finally let her rest. What mattered now was moving forward and how she used her past experiences to guide her toward a positive future. Toward a happy and healthy, brand-new her.
“And I don’t need a tow,” she said, fessing up to the scheme.
Joel stopped and placed one hand on the edge of the truck bed. The tables had turned, as now he couldn’t look at her. His stare remained on the rain-soaked gravel, and his throat worked with unsaid sentiments.
“I’m sorry I freaked out,” she whispered.
“You didn’t just freak out. You cried .”
She winced, the consequences of her tears beginning to take root. He rubbed his hands against his jeans, and she instinctively reached out to thread their fingers together.
“You always do that,” she murmured, brushing her thumb against his skin.
A puff of defeated laughter left his lush lips. “Nervous habit.”
“I…I make you nervous?” she asked, bemused.
He returned that puzzlement with a raised eyebrow. “Mallory. You’re a librarian. You literally wore a tweed jacket once.”
“What’s wrong with my tweed jacket?”
“Fucking hell, nothing’s wrong with it. Made me hard as a goddamn rock, if you must know.” He massaged the bridge of his nose with two fingers, mortified in the most endearing way. “What I mean is…listen, you’re from the city. You wear tweed and corduroy and those shoes with the laces and the heels. You spent months ignoring me. Wouldn’t look me in the eye.”
Those words gripped her lungs, squeezing the air out of her as his point of view came into hyperfocus.
“Shit, I even saw you numerous times at the bakery. Tried to catch your eye when you worked there, but nothing,” he continued.
Mallory racked her brain, unable to recall any memory of Joel before the time she saw him in the library stacks and rushed in the other direction. But she rarely worked the register at the bakery, always delegated to the barista counter, and, on top of that, the fog of anguish she inhabited during that time had her unable to think straight most days.
“Then you started working at the library, and you literally ran away from me.” He laughed, the sound despondent, and his massive shoulders lifted into a shrug. “What the hell was I supposed to think?”
“Oh God,” she lamented, partaking in a true-blue facepalm. “That’s not at all—shit. When you put it like that, I sound like such a snob.”
“Figured someone like you wasn’t interested in a guy who spends his days covered in grease. And that Friday when I checked out a book, and you pulled away from me so fast…” He trailed off, swallowing thickly as he glanced down. “I started wiping my hands, and I never stopped.”
Understanding shredded her insides, and she wanted to scream at how foolish they’d both been. But, in actuality, it was a blessing they’d danced around each other for the past few months. Mallory hadn’t been ready for him then, but she was now.
As such, she placed a soft kiss against his knuckles, silently communicating that his big, beautiful, callused hands were always fit to touch her. When his gaze lifted to meet hers, a stunning level of vulnerability shimmered in his eyes. Unsure how to give words to the swarm of emotions within her, she cradled their clasped hands against her heart. Droplets of rain trailed down his chiseled face as she held his stare and refused to let go.
“If you only knew how much I wanted these hands on me,” she eventually confessed.
His expression shifted from dejected to cautious. “Yeah?”
“I had a huge crush on you. That’s why I couldn’t look you in the eye. Or do anything other than stammer. You made me nervous. And with everything that happened with my ex, I was still too…fragile, I guess.”
“I started putting the pieces together after our car ride. But my pride and insecurity and all that shit held strong. That’s why I downloaded that stupid app on a whim. I wanted to show I was interested, but I didn’t want to push or anything?—”
“I might need to be pushed sometimes. Otherwise, I’ll stand still for the rest of my life.”
“Even so. Not if it makes you cry.”
She shook her head, praying for eloquence as she launched into an overdue explanation. “My probationary period at the library ends on Monday. I panicked that someone would find out what we did. Wild sex in the workplace isn’t exactly appropriate.”
He considered that, his chest rising as if inhaling her words and the weight behind them. “Fair enough.”
“And I also freaked out because of the Christine factor.”
Bewilderment flickered on his face. “What does Christine have to do with this? How do you even know about her?”
“Joel, you know how small towns are,” she said with a shrug. “People talk. And I saw you with her yesterday at the bakery.”
“Ah, hell. I didn’t realize. Listen, Christine and I are not getting back together.”
Hearing it straight from Joel himself was comforting, but she wanted to clarify her hasty reaction. “My ex cheated on me,” she divulged. “Constantly. I lost count of how many times. And all my suspicions were turned on me, manipulated to make me think I was being unreasonable. Acting crazy. And when I saw you with her, I just…”
“I’m telling you. Christine is a nonfactor. She had a massive gambling problem. It was…” His jaw clenched, and he shook his head as if to dispel the memories. “I don’t want to get into the details, but it was bad, okay? Almost-lost-the-auto-shop kind of bad. She’s been in a program, and she came back to?—”
“Make amends,” Mallory finished for him, the puzzle finally solved.
“That’s right. I was avoiding her, trying to dodge her calls, but she was persistent. And I finally agreed to meet her.”
Sure enough, Mallory hadn’t only jumped to conclusions. She’d full-on leaped to them like a long jump Olympian. How easy to do so, instead of believing in what they’d been building toward. It was effortless to default to the worst possible outcome, and it took all the strength in the world to have faith. But rebuilding faith—in yourself, in others, in the world—was the ultimate challenge, and she evidently still had a long way to go. But there was no place else she’d rather do the work than in Honeysuckle, with her beautiful library and maybe even with this man beside her.
“Probably should’ve had some of these conversations before we slept together,” she joked, and his laugh warmed her insides like a hot toddy.
“Probably,” he agreed with a droll smile.
“It’s just hard sometimes to even have conversations when everything I said was twisted and—I mean, not with you, but with?—”
The gentle brush of his hand against her cheek silenced her. “I understand.”
“But I’m in the therapy, and I’m really trying to get better,” she finished, finally rife with confidence.
He nodded, his unwavering belief in her apparent with that simple motion. As much as she craved his kiss, she desired something else even more. She flattened her body against his solid chest without pretense, and he wrapped his strong arms around her, enveloping her in a healing hug. The damp fabric of his shirt seeped against her cheek, but it didn’t blot out the inferno of hope within her.
“Do you want to give this a go?” she whispered.
“I’ve wanted that since the second I laid eyes on you.”
Her head fell back to beam at him. Joel returned the joy, his once stoic stare now radiant, and he bent down to claim her mouth in a gentle kiss that built in intensity.
“I still can’t believe we fucked in the library,” she said with a giggle when they finally came up for air.
His booming laugh was laden with exuberance. “I know. Especially since I jerk off to that fantasy all the damn time.”
“Same here,” she confessed, loving how easy it was to chuckle with him in the rain. “I thought about it so much I almost broke my vibrator.”
He wiggled his brows and said, “What about fucking in a tow truck?”
In tandem, both sets of eyes fluttered to the front seat. Without another word, they dashed off, scurrying around to the passenger side. Joel opened the door for her, ever the gentleman, although he followed that politeness with an ungentlemanly kiss, his hands gripping her hips greedily. Her skin was slick with rain, but her whole body burned for more of his touch.
Before they climbed into the truck, he blanched. A large tool bag sat on the passenger seat alongside strips of loose fabric and other garments—likely a collection of rags and spare T-shirts for particularly messy workdays. He hurriedly tossed everything away, hurling items onto the dashboard, the floor, and the driver’s seat.
“It’s a mess,” he said with a regretful shake of his head. “Didn’t think I’d?—”
Mallory pushed his shoulders, guiding him back onto the seat before he finished the unnecessary apology. With a saucy smile, she climbed into his lap and slammed the door shut.
“Make a mess of me,” she purred, tugging his earlobe between her teeth.
A carnal growl rumbled from his chest, and he shifted to retrieve a condom from his wallet. Placing the packet in the cup holder for safekeeping, he ensnared her mouth, and she rocked against his groin. Frantic kisses followed, each one filled with a silent promise. Pledges to communicate better, to give this their all, to not let fear get the better of them. Every brush of his lips strengthened her belief in an optimistic future.
As full as her heart was, her panties were just as damp. He gripped her ass as she squirmed against his erection, both working together to increase the friction. No different from a couple of horny teenagers desperate for some privacy. She lifted her hips when she reached her limit on the foreplay, allowing him enough room to unzip his jeans and sheath his hard cock with the condom. Her pleated midi skirt worked to their advantage, and she moved the lace to the side of her lower lips instead of discarding her underwear completely. Desire soared as she positioned herself, sinking onto his cock with a whimper.
Outside, the rain picked up again and drummed against the truck, matching her own steady rhythm as she rode him. She gathered her skirt’s fabric in one arm, and Joel helped her move, completely in tune with her needs. Every inch of him was perfect, from the rigid erection to his rapt gaze. Despite the public setting, not a single car appeared on the remote road, and they only had eyes for each other.
After last night’s frantic fucking, they took it slow and savored the feel of each other. Kisses, tender touches, words of affirmation. Her climax built steadily, bubbling within her like a hot spring. His thumb worked her clit masterfully until she finally burst, a cascade of pleasure sweeping over her.
Joel held her close while she reveled in the sensations, peppering her neck with heartfelt kisses. Her cadence faltered, so he took the reins and thrust into her pliant core until he reached his own orgasm with her name on his lips.
“One day we’ll do it in a bed. Clothes off and all,” she joked, resting her head on his solid shoulder.
“I’m not worried,” he whispered into her damp tresses before pressing a gentle kiss to her temple. “We have all the time in the world.”
When the book sale returned six months later, the amount of silent auction donations had tripled. Since it was the dead of winter, the event was once again held inside the library, and the layout was rearranged to allow for the extra tables. A blanket of snow covered the ground outside, but inside was warm and toasty as residents from Honeysuckle and the surrounding towns came out in full force to purchase well-loved books and place their bids on the auction items.
So much had changed in six months, but the library remained a constant source of comfort. After all the anxiety, she’d aced her evaluation with Vivian days after she and Joel had stood in the rain and started their journey together. Mallory had filled out the form while lounging on his couch the following afternoon, her legs draped over his lap as he read. And during the meeting that Monday, Vivian had confided her intention to retire in five years’ time, deeming Mallory as her planned successor.
But until that time, she spent her days behind the circulation counter, loving every minute of it.
Throughout the day, her eyes often drifted over to Joel. He’d broached the idea of volunteering for the sale earlier that week, insistent that Tony could handle the shop on his own for a Saturday, and was assigned a payment table. It was utterly adorable how he sat sentry over the lockbox, diligently counting out change for each used book destined to go to a new home.
He caught her gazing, their eyes locking across the library. Love you , he mouthed.
Love you too , she replied back.
Later that night, once staff and volunteers had tidied everything, Mallory offered to lock up. And because Joel drove them both to the library that morning, he stayed behind too.
She spent most nights at his charming cottage, located about fifteen minutes from the main hub of town and situated near a bristling brook. The lease on her apartment was up next month, and they’d recently had a frank conversation about their next steps. Although Mallory barely lived at her apartment nowadays, her prior experience of rushing into a relationship still lingered. She’d decided to re-sign for another year, simply to give herself some peace of mind, and Joel had been completely on board, happy to support her in whatever way she needed.
But that was the type of man he was, and she loved him all the more for it.
Once the lights were shut off, Mallory stopped him from putting on his winter jacket without a word. Joel sent her a questioning look, but that confusion shifted to lust when she turned the key to lock them in. She crooked a finger, silently luring him back into the stacks.
After all, it was healthy to be impulsive every now and then.