“Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.” He follows me back to the reference desk, which reminds me . . .
“Oh,” I compose myself, playing the part of professional library director so well, I deserve an award. “Did you still want me to look up those books?”
“Nah, I think I’ll be okay without them.” He waves me off with a smirk. “I’m more of a romance reader anyway.”
“Me too.” I lean forward conspiratorially to whisper. “Don’t tell anyone.”
“Your secret’s safe with me.” He takes a step back, and dips his hat forward. “Y’all have a good day.”
I stand there, unable to do anything other than watch him walk away. He turns before he reaches the door.
“Oh, and Rosalie?”
“Yeah?”
“You and I?” He motions between us. “We’re officially a thing. I’m all yours. In case I didn’t make that clear.”
With a satisfied smile, he turns and struts out the door, leaving me speechless.
Every single patron in the library heard his proclamation. In minutes, they’ll be sharing this news with their neighbors. By the end of the day, the entire town will know. And, I realize, I don’t give a damn. That’s how gone I am for Jackson Wilder.
“That’s a fine-looking young man,” Regina says as I turn back to the desk. I don’t know how to answer that, though the permanent blush on my cheeks likely says enough. “And he’s awfully sweet on you.”
“So it seems,” I answer.
“If I were you, I’d lock that one down.” Regina Salas is in her early seventies and her use of the vernacular causes me to chuckle.
“Regina!” I tease. “What do you know about locking things down?”
“I might be older than you, honey, but I’m not dead. A man likethat doesn’t come around more than once in a lifetime. Don’t you let him get away. Put a ring on it.”
A burst of laughter rattles my chest. “Regina!”
“I’m just saying, with all these books you read”—Regina looks up at me from the rim of her glasses—“You deserve your own happily ever after.”
I can’t argue with that, because for the first time in my life, I’m starting to believe I do.
33
ROSALIE
Saturday evening,Jackson pulls into my driveway with his nephew Zach. I’ve already warned Edward that Jackson isn’t staying, but he’s thrilled to see him and they greet each other with their secret handshake.
After I walk Zach through the house and go over the relevant rules and tasks, Jackson and I head out. He’s dressed in dark jeans, black boots, and a black long-sleeved button-down. He styled his hair too, and it’s strange seeing him without his cowboy hat. Though, even without it he still embodies his usual confidence and swagger. The two of us together appear as total opposites, and I guess we are. He’s country and I’m city, and yet, where it matters most, we go together perfectly.
We use the car ride to catch up, filling each other in on the little details of the week. An hour passes easily, and when he takes the exit for Flagstaff, my interest peaks. It’s not the first time I’ve wondered what he has planned for our first official date.
“Do you want to know where I’m taking you?” he asks, as if he can read my mind. I’m starting to think he can.
“Only if you want to tell.”
“It’s a place you know well.”
“Okay?” I haven’t been to Flagstaff often.
“It has your favorite things.”
