“I need to run out to my truck to grab some things. Table’s done for,” he tells me. “The wall damage isn’t structural; merely cosmetic. I’ll patch it today and come back tomorrow to sand and repaint it.”
“You don’t have to do all that. I’m sure I can cover up the patches with some wall art or something.”
“This library deserves more than a rush job done halfway,” he says, like all this work is no big deal when it’ll actually take hours.
It’s a very big deal. At least to me.
This library is such a large part of my heart. It’s where I found my footing after college. Where I learned how to belong in Mistletoe Bay. Where I get to build something quiet and meaningful every single day. So when he says things like that, it feels like it’s not just the library he’s talking about.
It feels like he’s talking about me, too.
“I’ll be right back,” he says, winking before rushing out the automatic doors.
I stare at his retreating backside for a half a second too long. With a shake of my head, I turn my attention back to the rest of the library.
Juniper Hart, the Candlelight Walk coordinator, is waiting patiently for me to return to the check-out desk.
“Rough morning?” she asks as I scan her library card.
“You could say that.”
“At least it’s fixable.Andyou’ll have some very attractive eye-candy to admire while it’s being repaired,” she says, glancing toward the disaster zone.
“That’s what I keep telling myself,” I reply. “About the display I mean. That it can all be fixed,” I quickly clarify.
The last thing I need is for Juniper to think I noticed Rhett’s attractiveness.
She hums a knowing little sound that makes my spine stiffen. “Oh, honey,” she says, lowering her voice. “You don’t have to pretend that getting to watch Rhett Jennings work isn’t a delightful treat.”
I slide her book receipt across the counter a little too briskly. “He’s just here to fix the display.”
“Mmhmm.” She peers over her glasses, eyes flicking toward the doorway Rhett disappeared through. “Red Barn Hardware and Repair doesn’t usually do emergency call-outs for twinkle-light tragedies.”
I open my mouth to argue, then close it again.
Juniper grins. “Rhett Jennings doesn’t go out of his way for just anyone. Trust me. This town has been trying to marry that man off for years.”
“Well, the town can relax. He’s being professional.”
“Of course he is,” she agrees easily. “Professional. Helpful. Extremely handsome.”
I sigh. “Juniper.”
“What?” She lifts her shoulders innocently. “I coordinate a historical tour. Observation is literally my job.”
She gathers her books and slips them into her tote. “Just saying—if the library needed saving, it could’ve done a lot worse.”
As she turns to leave, she pauses and adds sweetly, “And if you hear wedding bells, I planned my fair share ofotherevents, too.”
“Goodbye, Juniper.”
She wishes me luck with the holiday rush before heading out, leaving me alone with my thoughts and the growing realization that I texted a man I matched with this morning and he showed up like it was the most natural thing in the world.
The doors slide open again minutes later.
Rhett’s back, carrying a larger tool bag in one hand and a shop vac in the other, with a small clipboard tucked under his arm. He sets everything down and gets right back to work, but not before apologizing for the fact that he’s going to have tomake more noise than appropriate for a library during operating hours.
“Just need to vacuum up the glitter and tiny shards of glass.”
