“So her face is expressive,” Gladys paraphrased.
He warmed to his favorite topic. “But it’s not just her face that’s mercurial. Depending on what she wears, she looks completely different from day to day. One shift, she might slick back her hair and wear dark red lipstick and leather boots and look ready to kick James Bond’s ass. But the next day, her hair will be all bouncy and wavy, and she’ll wear a flowery dress and something shiny on her lips, and if spring meadows needed to advertise, she would star in those advertisements.”
Gladys’s eyes had gone wide, but she wasn’t interrupting him.
“Sometimes her hair seems almost black, and sometimes it’s almost red. Her skin is pale in the winter but golden in the summer, even though I’ve seen her put on sunscreen. Her perfume changes too.” He turned to Callie, who’d gone very still beside him. “Every day, from what I can tell. Is that right? Do you use a different perfume every day?”
Earlier today, she’d smelled heady, like late-summer blooms. Tomorrow, she might smell like berries or lemons or rosemary or musk. Ever-changing and ever-enticing.
He loved that about her.
“I…” She licked her lips, even though they were still shellacked with that shiny gloss he adored. “I like perfume samples.”
That explained it.
“And she can do anything.” He returned his attention to Gladys, eager for her to understand the full glory of the woman beside him. “Did you know she was working full-time as a costumed interpreter even as she took all the classes she needed for her master’s degree? And no matter what people ask while she’s on the desk, she can find the answer quickly. She picked up the circulation system in less than three days, she could locate any of our reference materials with her eyes closed, and she can chat with our patrons about anything. Television shows, movies, science, history, whatever. Because she’s so damn intelligent and curious, and her mind works in a way mine doesn’t.”
He waved a hand dismissively. “I can’t multitask to save my life, but she’s good at everything. So good, I found it intimidating at first, but then I decided just to admire it. To watch her and enjoy the sight of someone who can do anything and be anyone she wants.”
A gentle hand landed on his knee. Warm. Soft. Tipped with sparkly pink nails.
They’d been red only last week. She was a wonder.
“Thomas,” Callie whispered. “I had no idea.”
Those brown eyes of hers had gone sad, and he didn’t understand it. Hadn’t he expressed himself well enough?
He needed to wrap this up and figure out what he’d done wrong. “In summation, everything about her attracted me. She’s energetic and witty and kind to everyone, unless they try to return books stained by cat urine. She’s frighteningly intelligent and competent. And of course, she’s obviously beautiful. So who wouldn’t be attracted to her? There are probably people in the future desperately trying to invent time travel so they can come back to the twenty-first century and meet her.”
When he finished, neither of the women said anything for a long, long time. But Callie hadn’t moved her hand from his knee, and he felt that light touch like a brand.
“Wellllll…” Gladys drew out the word, her gray brows near her hairline. “I think that pretty much covers the question.”
“Can we—” Callie swallowed, then started again. “Can we maybe check in and take our tour first, and then finish the interview later? I think I need a few minutes.”
He stood immediately. Loath to lose her hand, though, he laced his fingers through hers and helped her to her feet. “If Callie’s tired, we should take a break. Let’s go find our room.”
In the cool privacy of their own space, he’d try to determine what emotions kept chasing each other across her expressive face, appearing and vanishing too quickly for him to decipher them. And then he’d put his plan into action.
He might not be able to multitask. He might not understand popular culture.
But he knew how to train his absolute focus on a question and find an answer. He knew how to consider a single subject and explore it top to bottom, inside and out. He knew how to research, and he knew how to gather his data and create a persuasive argument.
By the end of this week, he’d have an answer to the question of whether Callie might ever grow to love him the way he did her. And if that was even a distant possibility, he would compile his data and prepare his arguments and present his thesis to her before their return to Marysburg.
His thesis statement was simple, but it was powerful. Just five short words.
I could make you happy.
THREE
“Callie, place your hands on Thomas’s left shoulder, one stacked on top of the other,” Gladys instructed. “Now look up at him.”
Callie obeyed, her chest oddly tight.
Thomas’s shoulder muscles bunched at the first touch of her fingers, and when he turned his head and gazed down at her, she could have sworn he didn’t see or hear anyone else on the planet. He covered both her hands with one of his, his smile sweet and soft and meant only for her, cameras or no cameras.
Those long, lean hands could heft a mountain of encyclopedias.
