Lakeshore Christmas. Сьюзен Виггс
stares. “Why is that?”
“Because lady, I can already tell—you were born pissed off.”
“You can tell this,” she said, scowling a challenge at him. “Because you’re…what? Such an amazing judge of character?”
“Because you’re not hiding a thing,” he said.
“You have no idea whether I’m hiding anything at all,” she said. “You don’t know the first thing about me.”
His gaze flicked over her, assessing practical boots, the plain cloth coat, the handknit accessories, the glasses, her stack of books and clipboard.
“I know everything I need to know,” he said.
“And what’s that?”
“Ray Tolley says you’re the town librarian.”
Ray, who played keyboard, was in charge of music for the pageant. Maureen tried to decide whether or not she was pleased Ray had discussed her with Eddie Haven. “That’s not exactly classified.”
“You’re a big reader, and freakishly organized,” Eddie said, eyeing her books and papers.
She sniffed. “You’re stereotyping me. Not to mention being completely wrong.” He was wrong. She cleared her throat and glared up at him. It was then that she noticed he wore an earring. A single, sexy golden loop in one earlobe. He also had a tattoo that rippled when he bent his arm. She could imagine how it looked as he stroked the strings of his guitar. Obvious signs of a person craving attention.
“Okay, then you live a secret life, moonlighting as a dominatrix.”
“That’s no secret,” she said.
He chuckled again, his eyes shining. “Right.” He headed for the counter. Halfway there, he turned. “Do you want anything?”
She tried not to stare at the earring. “No. No, thank you.”
With his weight shifted to one hip and a charming grin on his face, he chatted up the counter girl, whose eyes sparkled as she made small talk with him.
Clearing her throat, Maureen organized the papers on her clipboard and adjusted her glasses. She wished she didn’t wear glasses. It was just so…librarian-like. She owned a pair of contacts, but they irritated her eyes.
Her sisters and stepmom had insisted that she opt for trendy Danish-import frames and a good haircut in order to avoid being regarded as a total cliché. But she usually ended up pulling her hair back and not bothering with makeup. The end result was the impression of a librarian trying not to look like a librarian, which was ridiculous.
She eventually surrendered to who she was, and for the most part she was comfortable in her own skin, with a cozy apartment, two cats and plenty of books. She hadn’t always been that way; her contentment was hard-won. And when someone—like Eddie Haven—came along and threatened that, she went into defensive mode.
He returned with a mug of hot coffee for himself, and a cup of hot chocolate. “For you,” he said. “I know you said you didn’t want anything, but I figured I’d give it a shot.”
“Thank you. How did you know I’m a hot chocolate drinker?”
“Who doesn’t like hot chocolate?” He gave her a smile that made her feel as if she were the only woman in the place. “Whipped cream?”
“No,” she said quickly. “That would be a bit much.” She went back to feeling self-conscious. People were probably wondering what the hot guy was doing with the geeky girl. Some things never changed. Everyone who saw them together would assume he was with her out of some kind of obligation, not because he was attracted to her. Getting attention from Eddie Haven was like being the dork in school, having her pigtail tugged by the cutest boy in class. She was ridiculously grateful for the attention, even if he was taunting her.
Five minutes with this guy and she’d regressed to junior high. Just for a moment, she wished she could be someone else. That was probably unhealthy in the extreme—to be with a person who made you dissatisfied with yourself.
She patted the papers on her clipboard. It was always a safe bet to get down to business with someone who made you nervous. “I’ve made you copies of the audition schedule and the rehearsal times and—”
“Thanks. I’ll look at it later. Give me a break, I just rolled into town.”
“Where are you staying?” she asked.
“At a place by the lake. It belongs to some friends who go to St. Croix for the winter. Hell, I’d like to be in St. Croix right about now.”
“I hope you settle in quickly,” she said. “This Christmas pageant has to come together in a shockingly short amount of time.”
“And yet it does,” he said, “like a miracle, every year.”
“So it’s been your experience that a miracle occurs.”
“Hasn’t failed us yet. I’m not exactly new to this,” he said.
She was aware of his entire history with the pageant, including the infraction that had earned him his sentence of community service. It was a known fact in the town of Avalon that Eddie Haven had begun his involvement in the town’s annual pageant by judicial order. Following a terrible Christmas Eve accident, he’d been sentenced to help with the program, year in and year out. “It’s been my experience that miracles work out better when they’re preceded by a lot of hard work and preparation.”
“Me, I got faith,” he said easily.
She regarded him skeptically. “Are you a churchgoing man?”
He laughed heartily at that. “Yeah, that’s me. I’m a real regular.” He toned down the laughter a bit. “Trust me, I can deal with the pageant without divine intervention, okay? And how did you end up with this job, anyway? Did you volunteer or were you drafted? Or maybe you’re a felon like me.”
“Nobody’s a felon like you.”
“Ouch,” he said. “Okay, I can tell, you’re going to be a barrel of laughs.”
“It’s not my job to amuse you.”
“Come on, be a sport. Tell me more about yourself, Maureen.”
“Why should I? You’ve already declared me a boring person obsessed with books and cats—”
“I never said boring. I never said obsessed. The books were a no-brainer and the cats—every chick likes cats. Lucky guess. Come on. I really want to know. Are you from around here?”
He did this thing, she realized. This magnetic thing that made her want to…she wasn’t sure what. Give him little offerings from herself. It was the strangest sensation. Strange, and maybe dangerous. “I was born and raised here,” she said. “I went to college in Brockport, came back and became the town librarian.” She swallowed. “No wonder you said I was boring.”
“Hey. I did not say boring. And it sounds to me like you didn’t have to go looking for your heart’s desire.”
She actually had gone looking, but she wasn’t about to own up to that, not to him.
“And what about you?” she asked, feeling bold. “Are you looking for your heart’s desire?”
“No need. I know what my heart desires. It’s just a question of finding it.”
“Really? And what is that?”
“I just met you. I can’t be telling you that.”
During their conversation, something unexpected occurred. Against her will, she started to like him. As a person, not just as an amazing-looking guy, a guy who was so far out of her league, he might as well be on another planet.
Planet of the Fangirls, thought Maureen, as three women approached