Chapter Seven
All morning, Harry stared at Clara as if waiting for her to say something. Before taking his leave at two, he pulled her behind the counter.
“You okay with being alone until Margot gets here?” He tilted his head toward the red door, his blue eyes crinkled with concern.
“Oh, I’ll be fine.”
He nodded but didn’t move toward the exit.
She squeezed his arm. “Really, it’s okay. And hey, thanks for this morning. I haven’t run in a long time. It was fun. Helped clear the cobwebs from my mind.”
“And Doug?”
She shrugged, but a grin tugged at the corners of her mouth. “Doug’s nice. He asked me out.”
“Good.” He beamed. “It’s about time. For both of you. So, big plans?”
“Just a drama performance by his students.”
“Really?” He raised one wiry eyebrow. “I’ll have to talk to Doug. I know schoolteachers don’t make much money, but he can do better than that.”
“You’ll do no such thing, Harry. Please. I don’t need the pressure of a fancy date right now.” She stared him down until he raised his hands in surrender. “Besides, it’ll be fun. I used to act in plays back in high school, you know.”
“Well, all right then. I’m glad to see you getting out. And Doug’s a good guy. You could use someone stable like him in your life.” He glanced at the red door and lowered his voice. “I’m glad you said yes to Doug before that professor fellow snatched you up.”
Her cheeks heated. “No one’s snatching me up, Harry.”
“Pretty sure he wants to ask you out, though.”
Her heart gave an emphatic thump. “Did he say that?”
“No, but…” He squinted at the red door. “I’ve been around the block a time or twelve. I’ve seen the way he looks at you, Clara.”
She patted his shoulder, then pushed him toward the door. “I’m a big girl. I can handle the professor. Now go. Enjoy your day.”
He pecked her cheek on his way out.
Harry made a good point about Doug. A sweet guy, he made his interest obvious without jangling her nerves the way Nick did. Nick’s flirtatious banter was thrilling, but when he was near, her mind raced too quickly to places she wasn’t ready to go. Too scary, too much, too soon. Better to stick with Doug. She closed her eyes and remembered his bashful smile, his cool touch. Safe, easy—that’s what she needed.
****
The hours ticked by. Margot arrived shortly after Harry left, and together they fielded a steady stream of customers shopping for gifts, cookbooks, comics, mysteries, local authors, everything but erotica, thank goodness. The red door remained firmly closed. What were Nick and his assistant doing back there? In a quiet moment nearly two hours after their arrival, Clara heard a loud feminine squeal, then masculine laughter, and then soft voices.
She told herself she needed to rearrange the cookbooks today anyway. It had nothing to do with their location opposite the red door.
Again and again, Darcy giggled. Passing by with an armful of books, Margot rolled her eyes. Clara carefully kept her expression neutral, as if she hadn’t heard anything, but her imagination was naughtier than the books behind the red door.
She pictured Darcy and Nick on one side of the twisted little settee, somehow managing to balance both their gorgeous bodies while peering over the divider at a large picture book laid out on the other seat. Darcy would lean over to turn the page, her river of glossy black hair fanning over the book while Nick’s hand slid beneath her tight T-shirt. He’d cup her pointy little breast and squeeze. She’d squeal again and push her hips back, grinding her perky ass against his crotch. He’d moan—softly, because he’s a classy guy—then whisper a suggestion in her ear, his other hand lifting her silky hair to kiss the back of her neck, inhale her scent…
The red door flew open with a bang, startling Clara into dropping the heavy cookbook she held—right onto her toe. She crouched to pick it up, then glanced up to find Darcy framed in the doorway, her spooky pale eyes narrowed.
“You scare too easily.” She strode over and took a wide stance, boxing her in with those black motorcycle boots. Clara couldn’t stand without bonking into Darcy, so she squinted up at the younger woman.
Framed by long curtains of black hair, her face was not unkind, merely curious. “Don’t give in to the fear. Try something that scares you.” She shifted her pile of books to her hip, and reached out a hand, and pulled Clara to her feet. Then she brushed a lock of hair from Clara’s forehead.
“Red hair. Pretty. Hey, do you want to take a ride on my Harley sometime? It’d do you good, I bet. Shake things up.” She sashayed over to the counter and set down her pile of books, then turned to wink over her shoulder.
Clara’s pulse picked up speed. Breathe. She’s just teasing.
Margot hopped down from her stool behind the counter and reached for the books. “Is this all for you?”
“Oh no, I want more. Lots more.” Darcy leaned her elbows on the high counter, rested her chin on her interlaced fingers, and batted her eyes at Margot, who blushed like a fuchsia.
From behind them, Nick called out, “Darcy, when you’re quite finished flirting with the ladies, let’s carry out the rest.”
He stood in the doorway, his crisp dress shirt unbuttoned at the collar, revealing a dusting of silky black hair. The tall pile of books he clutched threatened to slip sideways. Clara hurried over to help him. She relieved him of half his stack, and he murmured in her ear, “Darcy can be hard to take, but she’s an excellent assistant. She’ll try to get under your skin. Just ignore her.”
But Darcy’s intense gaze now focused on Margot, who’d pulled up her Betty Boop T-shirt to give her a better view of the swarm of tattooed bees dancing across her hips. The taller girl traced their progress with a long, black-lacquered fingernail. Margot giggled and twisted away, but not too far away.
“What a sweet, little honey you are,” Darcy purred.
With a thunk, Nick set down his pile of books.
Darcy straightened up. “Right. Off I go.”
“I’ll help you.” Margot trotted after her new friend.
Nick pushed an errant dark curl back into place above his forehead. “Kids.”
She cleared her throat. “So, it looks like you found plenty of, er, materials for your project.”
“Oh, we did.” Nick nodded. “You’ve created quite a collection there. I hope I’m not causing trouble by taking so many books.”
“No, no, it’s fine. Like I said, I really don’t have much to do with the back room.”
He cocked his head, smiled gently. “I’ll bet you don’t realize what you have here. Your husband had an extraordinary eye for beauty, both words and images. But then, he chose you, the brightest gem in his collection.”
She gulped and lowered her gaze, avoiding Nick’s eyes. His kind words about Jared made her feel like a traitor, caught spinning lustful fantasies. She clutched a book and squeezed her eyes shut to hold back the tears threating to drop onto its leather cover.
He stepped back, both hands raised. “Oh, hey, I’m sorry. I’ve upset you. It’s still too fresh, isn’t it?”
She nodded, swiped at her eyes, and rang up the first book.
He gently grasped her hand as she reached for the next book. “Clara, would you rather not part with these?” His warm, dark eyes focused on her with such kindness. Knowing he’d been through a similar loss helped her to articulate thoughts too painful to say aloud—until now. “In some ways, I’m glad to see those books go. They stir up feelings I’m not ready to confront.”
He nodded, glanced toward the red door, where Margot and Darcy giggled as they gathered more volumes. Darcy scolded, “Don’t drop it again, or Mama will spank you.”
Nick rolled his eyes, then leaned on the counter, his long, graceful fingers tented just inches from her face while she bent to check the price sticker inside each front cover.
“Clara.”
“Yes?” She glanced up to find him searching her face.
“I was hoping you might have a glass of wine with me tonight. We could…discuss my project?”
“Oh, well…”
He straightened up. “Do you already have plans?”
“Not really, but I’m—I’m sort of seeing someone.”
“Oh.” He pursed his lips. “Is it serious?”
She shrugged, trying to seem cool and collected. “Not yet.”
“Well then, how about just a friendly drink between fellow book lovers?” He raised one dark eyebrow, and his gold-flecked eyes twinkled, a challenge.
She remembered Darcy’s words: Try something that scares you.
“Sure. Okay. Why not?” She straightened her shoulders, relishing the rush of her own daring. “I close up at seven tonight.”
Take that, Darcy.
“Excellent. I’ll see you then.” His smile lit up his handsome face and somehow calmed her inner warning bells. She even allowed herself to meet his gaze for a long moment. Such lovely eyes, dark and mysterious and inviting…
Just then, Darcy and Margot came giggling up the aisle, weaving back and forth under the weight of the books they carried. Margot helped ring up the total, which came in at over six hundred dollars.
Darcy whistled. “Did you go over budget, Prof?”
“A little.” He signed the slip and reached into his pocket, then tossed his car keys to Darcy. “Bring her around, will you?”
Darcy flashed a grin at Clara, then at her boss. “I tried, but it looks like you got to her first.” She hefted an armful of books and turned to Margot. “Give us a hand, my little chickadee?”
Margot gathered an armful of books and trotted after Darcy like an eager puppy following its master.
Nick leaned one elbow on the counter and watched them go. “Puppy love.”
“In Darcy’s case, it’s more like wolf lust.” Her own bold words startled her. It was as if he had jarred something loose, prying away a few bricks in the wall of her reserve.
“Oh, her bark’s worse than her bite, if you’ll forgive the cliché.” He stacked up the last of the books. “So, I notice the café next door is having a wine tasting tonight.”
Next door. Familiar people, familiar territory. “Sounds great.”
She watched him go, sighing softly at the sight: the curve of his muscular ass beneath his soft dress slacks, the span of his shoulders, the graceful way he hefted the heavy stack of books. Lulu seemed to like him too. She hopped up on the counter and mewed her approval.
A moment later, the bell over the shop door tinkled as Margot came tripping back, a goofy grin on her elfin face. She paused in the doorway, rubbed her arms, then hugged herself.
“I like them,” she said.
“Them, or her?”
She shrugged. “Okay, her. We have a date tonight.”
Clara chuckled. “Almost makes me wonder if the two of them came here on false pretenses, just trawling for chicks.”
Margot’s eyes widened. “You too?”
When she nodded, Margot skipped over and squeezed her tight. “Clara, that’s so cool! It’s about time.” She cleared her throat. “I mean, I’m glad you’re going out with someone.”
“Just a glass of wine, nothing to get excited about.” But the quaver in Clara’s voice belied her brave words.
“You nervous?”
“A little. I mean, I’ve been alone for a year, and now, I have two dates in one day.”
“Whoa!” Margot fanned herself. “You’re hot stuff, Clara.”
“It’s no big deal, just a run this morning with Harry’s friend, and now—”
“Hey, there’s no rule against dating more than one person at a time, especially if you’re not serious yet.” Margot grasped her shoulders. “Are you serious?”
“No, of course not.”
“All right, then.” She slapped the counter with her palm. “Tell you what, why don’t I close up tonight? I don’t have to be ready until ten. You old folks will probably be in bed by then.”
“Margot!”
“Oh, jeez, no. I just meant you don’t stay up so late. I didn’t mean…Sorry. Never mind.” Margot’s expression was so contrite Clara had to forgive her and accept her offer to close up.
“And you be careful, Miss Margot,” she said on her way out the door. “I don’t trust that Darcy. She’s a predator.”
Margot grinned. “Hey, sometimes it’s fun to play with fire.”