A heartwarming novella in the Sweetwater Springs series from USA Today bestselling author Annie Rains, perfect for fans of RaeAnne Thayne and Debbie Mason. If Lacy Shaw could have one wish, it's that the past would stay in the past. And with her high school reunion coming up, she has no intention of reliving the worst four years of her life. Especially when all she has to show for the last decade is how the shy bookworm blossomed into...the shy town librarian. Ditching the event seems the best option until a blistering hot alternative roars into Lacy's life. Perhaps riding into the reunion on the back of Paris Montgomery's motorcycle will show her classmates how much she really has changed... While growing up as a foster kid, Paris Montgomery only felt at home in Sweetwater Springs, which is why he picked the small town to start over after his divorce. He can't afford to ruin this refuge with another doomed relationship - especially one with a woman who is his total opposite. But when the town's sweet librarian offers to help him reconnect with his foster dad, he finds they have more in common than he thought. Both are about to discover that home is where the heart is. (22,000 words)
Release date:
August 6, 2019
Publisher:
Forever Yours
Print pages:
79
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Lacy Shaw looked around the Sweetwater Springs Library for the culprit of the noise, a “shhh” waiting on the tip of her tongue. There were several people reading quietly at the tables along the wall. A few patrons were wandering the aisles of books.
The high-pitched giggle broke through the silence again.
Lacy stood and walked out from behind her counter, going in the direction of the sound. She wasn’t a stickler for quiet, but the giggling had been going on for at least ten minutes now, and a few of the college students studying in the far corner kept getting distracted and looking up. They’d come here to focus, and Lacy wanted them to keep coming.
She stopped when she was standing at the end of one of the nonfiction aisles where two little girls were seated on the floor with a large book about animals in their lap. The shhh finally tumbled off her lips. The sound made her feel even more like the stuffy librarian she tried not to be.
The girls looked up, their little smiles wilting.
Lacy stepped closer to see what was so funny about animals and saw a large picture of a donkey with the heading “Asses” at the top of the page. A small giggle tumbled off Lacy’s lips as well. She quickly regained control of herself and offered a stern expression. “Girls, we need to be quiet in the library. People come here to read and study.”
“That’s why we’re here,” Abigail Fields, the girl with long, white-blond curls, said. They came in often with their nanny, Mrs. Townsend, who usually fell asleep in the back corner of the room. The woman was somewhere in her eighties and probably wasn’t the best choice to be taking care of two energetic little girls.
“I have to write a paper on my favorite animal,” Abigail said.
Lacy made a show of looking at the page. “And it’s a donkey?”
“That’s not what that says,” Willow, Abigail’s younger sister, said. “It says…”
“Whoa!” Lacy held up a hand. “I can read, but let’s not say that word out loud, okay? Why don’t you two take that book to a table and look at it quietly,” she suggested.
The little girls got up, the older one lugging the large book with both hands.
Lacy watched them for a moment and then turned and headed back to her counter. She walked more slowly as she stared at the back of a man waiting for her. He wore dark jeans and a fitted black T-shirt that hugged muscles she didn’t even have a name for. There was probably an anatomy book here that did. She wouldn’t mind locating it and taking her time labeling each muscle, one by one.
She’d seen the man before at the local café, she realized, but never in here. And every time he’d walked into the café, she’d noticed him. He, of course, had never noticed her. He was too gorgeous and cool. There was also the fact that Lacy usually sat in the back corner reading a book or people-watching from behind her coffee cup.
What is he doing here?
The man shifted as he leaned against her counter, his messenger bag swinging softly at his lower hip. Then he glanced over his shoulder and met her gaze. He had blue crystalline eyes, inky black hair, and a heart-stopping smile that made her look away shyly—a nervous remnant of her high school years when the cool kids like him had picked on her because of the heavy back brace she wore.
The brace was gone. No one was going to laugh at her anymore, and even if they did, she was confident enough not to find the closest closet to cry in these days.
“Hey,” he said. “Are you Lacy Shaw, the librarian here?”
She forced her feet to keep walking forward. “I am. And you are?”
He turned and held out a hand. “Paris.” He suspended his hand in midair, waiting for her to take it. When she hesitated, his gaze flicked from her face to her hand and then back again.
She blinked, collected herself, and took his hand. “Nice to meet you. I’m Lacy Shaw.”
Paris’s dark brows dipped farther.
“Right,” she giggled nervously. “You didn’t need me to introduce myself. You just asked if that’s who I was. Do you, um, need help with something? Finding a book maybe?”
“I’m actually here for the class,” he said.
“The computer skills class?” She walked around the counter to stand behind her computer. “The course instructor hasn’t arrived yet.” She looked at the Apple Watch on her wrist. “It’s still a little early though. You’re not late until you’re less than five minutes early. That’s what my mom always says.”
Lacy had been wanting to offer a computer skills class here for months. There was a roomful of laptops in the back just begging for people to use them. She’d gotten the computer skills teacher’s name from one of her regular patrons here, and she’d practically begged Mr. Montgomery over the phone to take the job.
“The class runs from today to next Thursday. It’s aimed toward people sixty-five and over,” she told the man standing across from her, briefly meeting his eyes and then looking away. “But you’re welcome to attend, of course.” Although she doubted he’d fit in. He appeared to be in his early thirties, wore dark clothes, and looked like his idea of fun might be adding a tattoo to the impressive collection on his arms.
Paris cleared his throat. “Unless I’m mistaken, I am the instructor,” he said. “Paris Montgomery at your service.”
“Oh.” She gave him another assessing look. She’d been expecting someone…different. Alice Hampton had been the one to recommend Paris. She was a sweet old lady who had sung the praises of the man who’d rented the room above her garage last year. Lacy never would’ve envisioned the likes of this man staying with Mrs. Hampton. “Oh, I’m sorry. Thank you for agreeing to offer some of your time to our senior citizens. A lot of them have expressed excitement over the class.”
Paris gave a cursory glance around the room. “It’s no problem. I’m self-employed, and as I told you on the phone, I had time between projects.”
“You’re a graphic designer, right?” she asked, remembering what Alice had told her. “You created the designs for the Sweetwater Bed and Breakfast.”
“Guilty. And for a few other businesses in Sweetwater Springs.”
Lacy remembered h. . .
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