New Point (5 page)

“What makes someone more deserving of the job than you?”

“I’m not past what happened at Clarkes, Dr. Greene. Even last night I had a mini flashback. What if –”

“We don’t deal with ‘What ifs’,” the doctor reminds me kindly. “We concentrate on what’s happening right
now.
And from what I hear, the right now at work is going well.”

“That’s true,” I admit hesitantly.

“What about your dedication to the library? The job itself, I mean.”

“I’ll never give less than one hundred percent,” I vow automatically. It’s not in my nature to work halfheartedly.

“Most employers value loyalty and hard work deeply,” Dr. Greene reminds me.

I nod reluctantly, still not completely convinced Sharon should have hired me, but grateful for the job, nonetheless.

For nearly the remainder of our session I tell him about the mostly painless move, Sharon, and the first day at work. He peppers me with questions, reminding me to use nature to release tension. At the end of the call, he asks the question I don’t want to answer for fear of disappointing him.

“When is your first session with Dr. Wilson?”

With a grimace, I respond. “I haven’t set one yet.”

“Why haven’t you called?”

“Dr. Greene, I’m not sure that I need to continue with therapy. Especially with a new doctor who doesn’t know my history…”

“I cannot stress enough the importance of you continuing to meet with a trained professional,” he insists. “These video conversations will not suffice in your recovery. You must have someone nearby in case of any emergencies.”

Outwardly, I wince at the painful memory he evokes. It physically hurts to think about the darkness that surrounded me nine months ago. A few days after the attack I had a breakdown where I refused to leave my brother’s brownstone. Everywhere I looked, I saw Clinton’s furiously sparkling sapphire eyes. Blake begged and begged to take me out of the house, but I physically couldn’t leave. Dr. Greene left his posh private office downtown to come into the house and do sessions with me until we broke through the first layer of terror. “That hasn’t happened since the first one,” I murmur, not meeting his eyes. It’s a shameful memory. “I won’t let it happen again.”

I let out a heavy sigh. Those memories are not ones I want to revisit. “Something else has happened since I got here that was unusual.”

Dr. Greene’s brows shoot up to his hairline, most likely because I’m usually not so forthcoming with him. “What’s that?”

This was always the most difficult topic to discuss with a man old enough to be my father, but I’d long ago lost those reservations. Dr. Greene has had access to almost every part of my life, and I want his take on this latest development. “I was attracted to my neighbor. When he flirted with me, I flirted back, and I want to see if that attraction would lead to something more.”

It sounds harmless enough, but this was the first I’ve wanted to be close to someone. Anyone. Before, I dated somewhat regularly, even had a few boyfriends. After Clarkes, the door to sexual interest slammed shut. Within half a second of meeting Miles, he kicked the door off its hinges.

“For me it’s a major shift in attitude,” I explain to my psychologist.

Though his faces soften slightly, he masks whatever he’s thinking. “That’s a start, but it doesn’t mean your journey to recovery is complete.”

I want to pout like a petulant child, but I don’t. Instead I acquiesce. “I’ll call Dr. Wilson tomorrow.”

The session ends a few minutes later, and I retreat into the kitchen. Fighting the urge to seek out Miles from the deck, I force myself to combine vegetables and chicken into a salad.

Dr. Greene may not be easily convinced, but I’m a believer –recovery is so close I can spot it in the horizon. And with that comes a little piece of serenity in my normally tense emotional armor.

T
hey say third time’s the charm. In this instance, the idiom was completely accurate.

He caught me unaware again.

This time I’m balancing on top of a two-step ladder, shelving autobiographies when he startles me.

“We have to stop meeting like this.”

No yelp escapes my lips, no shriek, no gasp. Instead, a thrill jolts through me. I finish sliding
My Life
into its appropriate slot. After telling Dr. Greene about my interest in Miles, it’s less daunting.

“You’re the one who insists on catching me unaware,” I tell him nonchalantly as I shift toward him.

He looks good enough to eat. Again. This time he’s wearing khaki cargo shorts and a well-worn gray t-shirt. Idly I wonder if he knows how his casual attire sends me for a loop every time we meet. Probably. Those chocolate brown eyes look like they don’t miss a thing.

I accept his upturned palm to escort me off the ladder. The moment his warm skin makes contact with mine, a fizzle of energy sparks inside of me. The sensation elicits just enough reaction for me to recall this physical response –it’s attraction. My eyes fly up to his face and freeze.

“What’s lurking beyond those muddy hazel eyes?” Miles murmurs almost to himself, all the while searching my face. His deep brown gaze penetrates my defenses.

I suppress the urge to shudder, and my palms grow slick with sweat. Does he see beneath my carefully constructed exterior? I give myself one second—one tiny moment to flick my eyes closed. But when I do, I’m confronted by piercing blue eyes, full of fury and pain. Will I ever escape those eyes? Will I eventually stop seeing him wherever I go?

When I open my eyes, Miles is still staring at me quizzically. I answer his question silently.
Ugliness I’ll never share with you.

Not even Blake knows the real reason I left home, because I don’t want him worrying any more about my mental health than he already does. Anonymity brought me to New Point. Here I’m nothing more than the new librarian, not a victim or a hero. The toxic events at Clarkes Elementary School will stay where they belong, away from this place. I can finish my recovery with Dr. Wilson, but that doesn’t mean the new people I meet need to know about my past.

As if he senses my anxiety, Miles releases my hand, effectively severing the surge of emotion linking us. “Duke can’t stop talking about you.”

“He’s a very sweet kid. You know Alexa, she’s pretty timid, and he stuck by her side when she was unsure of herself.”

He’s smiling at me now, his whole face lit up with a grin.

Damn,
he’s good looking. I force myself to breathe normally, even though that fizzle of energy grows stronger.

“Duke’s learned young–there are certain women who are irresistible.”

Somehow I don’t think he’s talking about Alexa.

Over the past nine months I must have forgotten how to flirt because when I tell myself it’s time to respond, nothing comes out.

Luckily Miles doesn’t suffer from the same affliction. “How’s the library treating you, city girl?”

“No complaints to speak of.” I appraise him curiously. “City girl?”

He shrugs casually but his eyes twinkle with amusement. “That’s what you are, aren’t you?”

“Sure, that’s what I was for a while. But being from the city isn’t the only thing that defines me.” I don’t mean the words to come out bitterly, but there’s no hiding the hackles that rise.

Assumptions suck.

Frown lines appear in his brow. “No, I can see there’s a lot more to you than where you grew up.”

“Sorry.” I raise a hand to my heated cheek, forcing a sheepish smile. “It was time for a change and so far I’m thinking New Point fits me well.”

“Me too.”

“You’re pretty sure of that.”

He makes slow work of perusing my body, tracing my curves with his eyes. When they meet mine, a purposeful intent is clear. “New Point’s not the only thing that fits you well here.”

The library is nearly silent, except for our conversation–was he able to hear my heavy swallow?

“Saturday night, are you free?”

Again no words form, I don’t think I could speak if the president of the United States walked into the library.

“Zoe…” He’s caught me. That sexy bartender knows I’m speechless because the grin turns a touch arrogant. “Saturday?”

My brain thaws, but the words that escape aren’t exactly right. “I only work during the week.”

Get it together, Zoe!

“Okay, does that mean you’re available to have dinner with me on Saturday?”

Placing my hands on the book dolly beside me, I remind myself that I am college educated and know how to conduct a conversation with an attractive man. “I would love to. What did you have in mind?”

Miles rocks back on his heels and runs a hand through his messy hair. His sex appeal is effortless, probably part of his DNA. “Thought I’d introduce you to a New Point tradition.”

“Tell me more,” I request, my confidence coming back.

“Picnic on the beach. Bonfire. My plot of sand.”

“Sure.”

This time when he moves two steps closer, he does enter my circle of personal space, standing just a breath away from me.

Without breaking eye contact he lifts a large, tanned hand. It hovers next to my cheek. Through the corner of my eye, I think it may be trembling. His knuckles trail along my skin in a subtle caress. “I’ll pick you up at seven.” His voice is low. Affected.

“Okay,” I breathe.

He puts a few paces between us, walking backward and watching me with dark eyes. “Until then, Zoe Baker.”

Then he’s gone, leaving only the musky scent of sandalwood in his wake.

Miles

“
G
et it together, man,” I mutter to myself when I hear the library door latch behind me. I stride across the sidewalk and cut through the post office parking lot on my way toward the bar.

Women do
not
affect me. They don’t render me speechless with a sweet smile or an innocent flutter of their dark blond eyelashes. A soft flowery scent doesn’t make me jittery. I’m twenty-nine years old and could have my pick of women in this town. It sounds arrogant, I know. But I’m not some egotistical prick between a different girl’s legs every other night. The simple fact is, finding ladies to date, hook up, whatever, has never been a challenge for me. I’m always in control, never letting them close enough to make me think twice about a first impression.

All of that smoothness evaporated like gas the moment I laid eyes on Zoe. There she was, long toned legs, pert ass begging to be squeezed, hair shimmering like spun gold in the wind.

Spun gold? Really?

Suddenly I’m worrying. Does she feel the connection between us? Within a matter of minutes she snuck under my skin, and I’m not afraid to admit I want her.

If my friends knew what I was thinking, they’d never let me hear the end of it. They’d say I’m acting like a teenage girl crushing on Justin whatshisface. Now I know I’m a lost cause. I’m thinking about that pop star.

I scrub a hand through my hair, thoughts falling back toward Zoe. There’s something between us. She can’t hide her tremors when I touch her, but neither can I. Hell, it’s like her satiny skin has its own magnetic pull, and I’m unable to resist her.

Shaking my head in a feeble attempt to clear Zoe from my mind, I push my way through the Blue in Green employee entrance. I holler a greeting to the kitchen staff over the sizzle of cooking meat and the clank of pots and pans.

“Hey,” I greet Jake when I enter the office we share. The bar manager jerks his head and lets out a grunt acknowledging my presence as he fumbles through the staff scheduling computer program. “Laptop talking back again?” I joke.

Jake glares at me over the top of silver shell. “What’s with the self-satisfied smirk? You just get laid or something?”

Laughing lightly, I drop into my chair. I kick my legs up on the desk, crossing them at my ankles. “I’ve got a date with Zoe on Saturday.”

“The infamous neighbor Zoe,” he mocks good-naturedly, scheduling troubles forgotten. “How much did you have to pay her to say yes?”

“Shut up,” I toss back easily. No barbs from my friend will piss me off today. I’m not smirking; no, I’m fucking grinning at the thought of spending more time with Zoe.

“Find out why she moved here?” Jake asks casually, though he’s already diving back into his work.

“Not yet,” I murmur more to myself than him. I can sense there’s more than a simple desire to live in a small town that brought Zoe to New Point. If it wasn’t the general aura of mystery that surrounds her, the way her eyes flashed with a touch of anxiety earlier today was her tell.

There’s more to Zoe than the latest nail polish colors and getting the best summer tan Michigan sun has to offer. Compared to the other girls I’ve dated and known in this town, it’s a breath of brilliantly fresh air. I’m not ready to settle down with the white picket fence, but I can’t deny that seeing Zoe surrounded by children, face lit up in pleasure, doesn’t pull at my heartstrings. Patient, nurturing, and intelligent with luscious pink lips…yeah that’s the kind of woman I’m interested in spending more time with.

Zoe Baker’s sweet smile has me hooked, and her secrets leave me intrigued. There’s nothing holding me back from spending more time with my enthralling neighbor.