The Bachelor's Perfect Match. Kathryn Springer
Aiden touched the bandage on his forehead, hoping Maddie would dismiss the crazy notion as a side effect of his injuries. Playing the concussion card had worked pretty well with his brothers, after all.
“Maddie?”
They both turned toward the doorway, and Maddie’s face lit with a smile.
“Dad! I didn’t expect to see you until tomorrow night.”
A man with thinning gray hair and a frame the width of Aiden’s fly rod stepped into the room.
“I didn’t mean to intrude.” His gaze bounced from Maddie to Aiden and then back again. “I found some of those apples you like at the grocery store and thought I’d drop them off on my way home.”
“That wouldn’t be because you’re hoping I have time to make a pie for dessert tomorrow night, now, would it?” Maddie teased.
“Of course not.” Her dad flicked a look at Aiden. “I know how precious your free time is, sweetheart.”
Aiden didn’t miss the subtle implication that there were people in the room who didn’t.
“The door to my apartment is open.” Maddie’s smile didn’t waver. “I’ll meet you upstairs in a few minutes. Aiden just had a question for me.”
The only thing that moved was the man’s eyebrows. They sank together over the bridge of his nose in a frown that had probably scared away every guy who’d dared to ask Maddie out on a date.
It was a good thing Aiden didn’t scare easily.
Whoa. Where had that thought come from?
Not that Aiden had a problem asking a girl out. But like his brother Liam had so helpfully pointed out a few months ago, Aiden’s problem was that he never followed up with a second or third date.
Because of that, he’d gotten a reputation for avoiding commitment when the opposite was true. Because of his childhood, Aiden understood its value more than most guys his age. He never made promises he didn’t intend to keep. Aiden wasn’t a heartbreaker, but until he met a woman he could trust—with the good, the bad and the ugly—he stuck to the shallow end of the dating pool.
“That’s okay.” He tucked the crutch under his arm. “I have to go, anyway.” Sunni, who’d dropped Aiden off while she ran a few errands in town, was probably wondering where he was.
He took a step forward, but this time, instead of stopping him, Maddie escorted him past her father and into the narrow hallway outside the conference room.
“You don’t have to walk me to the door, you know.” Aiden’s lips twisted in a wry smile. “I’ll watch for rugs this time.”
Maddie tilted her head back to look up at him, and Aiden waited in vain for the dimple to appear.
Nope. Not happening. Once again, Aiden got the feeling she could see right through him.
“The library closes at two o’clock tomorrow,” she said. “But I’ll be working a few extra hours, going through donations for the used book sale.”
Her meaning was clear—if he wanted to continue their conversation. But Aiden didn’t respond.
Because right now, as anxious as he was to find his sister, Aiden wasn’t sure Maddie Montgomery and her fern green eyes wouldn’t prove more of a hindrance than a help. Because, oh man, he was distracted around her.
Maddie started the countdown as her dad followed her up the staircase to the second floor.
Five. Four. Three. Two...
“I don’t like the idea of strangers wandering in off the street when you’re alone in the library at night, sweetheart,” he said.
Maddie tamped down a smile. When it came to her dad, the saying about old habits being hard to break had proved true. William and Tara Montgomery had loved and protected Maddie for twenty-five years. She’d been out on her own for several years now, but her dad never failed to come up with a reason to stop by and “check on things.” What he was really checking on was her.
“Aiden isn’t exactly a stranger, Dad,” she reminded him. “You see him every Sunday morning at church.”
“I see him staring out the window while Pastor Seth gives the message,” her dad grumbled. “He might be sitting in the chair, but it’s obvious his mind is somewhere else.”
Maddie wasn’t about to admit she’d noticed that, too. Because it would mean admitting that she’d noticed Aiden Kane.
You and every other unattached female in town, she chided herself.
“I left the door unlocked in case another student showed up for the study session, and Aiden saw the lights on,” Maddie told him. “He didn’t realize the library was closed for the evening.”
Her dad reached the door at the top of the stairs before Maddie, and it swung open at the touch of his hand. “You should keep this one locked, too.”
“No one can access my apartment from the street,” Maddie reminded him.
When the title of head librarian had transferred to her after Mrs. Whitman’s retirement, Maddie had been given the keys to the studio apartment on the second floor of the building, too.
The space was small, but Maddie loved every inch of it.
She’d sewn slipcovers for the sofa and decorated the interior with an eclectic style she liked to call thrift shop chic. A folding screen separated the kitchen from the living room, and African violets bloomed in the window. An old steamer trunk served double duty as a coffee table and storage for the surplus of books when the shelves began to overflow.
Growing up, the characters in the books Maddie read had become her closest friends, so she hadn’t been able to part with a single one. For Maddie, sharing a favorite book was like sharing a secret. You weren’t just giving people a book. You were offering them a glimpse into your heart.
I don’t read.
Maddie was still having a hard time processing what Aiden had said. Not only the words themselves, but the matter-of-fact tone in which they’d been delivered. The way someone might say, “I don’t eat kale.”
“Maddie?”
Oops. “Sorry, Dad. What did you say?”
“I just want you to be careful, that’s all.”
“I am careful. And I’ll lock the door from now on,” Maddie promised.
“I wasn’t talking about the door.” Her dad hesitated. “I was talking about Aiden Kane. From what I’ve heard, he can be impulsive and a little reckless. Not the type of man who’s looking to settle down.”
“Settle—” Maddie almost choked on the word. “Aiden isn’t interested in going out with me, Dad.”
Even if she couldn’t deny that for a moment—a teeny tiny moment—her heart had performed that crazy tap dance again when he’d said, “I came to see you.”
A response as ridiculous as Aiden asking her out on a date. They had nothing in common. Whenever New Life Fellowship sponsored a hiking trip or a weekend of downhill skiing, Aiden would be listed as the contact person in the church newsletter. Maddie knew that information before anyone else in the congregation because she was the one who typed the monthly newsletter.
She also knew the first four or five names on the sign-up sheet would inevitably be grown-up versions of the athletic, outdoorsy type of girls Aiden had dated in high school.
Maddie hadn’t dated in high school. Guys never asked her to go out for a movie and burger. They’d asked her for her help with English homework instead.