“I remember you,” she said softly, terrified of doing or saying anything that might give her away.
“I hate to admit it, but I haven’t been in this library since I was in school,” he said, one corner of his mouth tipped upward as he glanced around the room again.
Wren swallowed hard.
Act normal.
“Shame on you,” she said, proud of the strength in her voice.
Grayson chuckled, then lifted a stack of books. “I had to come into town to run some errands. My mom caught me on the way to my truck, asked if I’d return these.” He set the books on the counter. “Don’t know if Lark told you or not, but she and I just spent the weekend together in Norfolk, working a wine festival.”
Wren nodded her head, just once. “She mentioned it to me.”
“She said you’d taken over the librarian’s position. Lucky break for the town. I think they were giving up hope on finding a replacement for Ms. Pauley after she died.”
Wren was aware of that. The library had been manned exclusively by her still-loyal band of volunteers, and while they’d done their best to keep things running smoothly, it had taken her some time to get the library back in shape after so many months without a real librarian.
“It was nice of you to bring the books back for your mom,” she said, her voice sounding strangely thin. She was too afraid to sound too much like herself.
Plus, he was watching her closely. Almost like he was trying to solve a puzzle. She wasn’t unfamiliar with the look. She and Lark were identical twins, so she was used to meeting someone who knew Lark and watching as they had to continually remind themselves that they didn’t know her.
“Mom’s a big reader, so I wouldn’t want her to get in trouble and not be able to check out any more books,” he joked, giving her a wink that was meant to be playful, but struck her as charming and sexy and hot and…
“Your mother is one of my best patrons.”
Grayson nodded. “Most of the women in my family are big readers. However, unlike my cousins, who prefer romance novels, Mom almost exclusively reads fantasy. But I guess I don’t have to tell you that.”
Wren was very fond of Mrs. Storm, who typically made her way to the library at least once a month. Last time she’d come in, Mrs. Storm had remarked that Wren’s mom had raised three beautiful, sweet girls. She’d been touched to be included in that compliment, since Mrs. Storm knew Piper and Lark—both regulars at Stormy Weather Farm—much better.
“I know she does. It’s rare that she doesn’t show up here armed with a list of new releases she’d like me to stock.” She eyed his empty hands. “No list today?”
Dammit. Wren wanted to kick her own ass for saying so much. Less was more in this situation, yet with Grayson, her quiet nature seemed to vanish into thin air, and she became this friendly, almost-flirty woman she didn’t know.
Grayson chuckled. “Nope. Just sent me with the books. Though I’ll tell her you were disappointed about the lack of requests and suggest she double her list for next time.”
That startled a laugh out of her, then she feigned a groan. “My poor budget.”
His smile deepened—and just like that, the air between them shifted.
Warmth curled through her, despite her efforts to remain composed.
What were the chances of him showing up here today…two days after the festival and for the first time in—according to him—years?
Clearly, she’d been a serial killer in a previous life and all that negative karma was catching up to her. Because seeing him here, standing in front of her circulation desk, unable to truly talk to him the way she wanted, was cruel.
“So,” he said casually. “How do you like being back in Gracemont?”
“I’m glad to be home. Don’t get me wrong. I loved Radford,” she said. “In fact, I picked it because it’s a small town as well. But,” she shrugged, “there’s something special about Gracemont.”
He nodded, and she could see he got it. Not that she was surprised. The Storm family had deep roots in this town, and Grayson had confided Saturday night as they lay in the hotel bed, chatting, that he planned to live out the rest of his life here, same as her.
“Don’t think I’ve ever seen you at the winery,” he mused.
“I didn’t come home from college much. I stayed in Radford pretty much year-round, only returning for the holidays. I even worked there during the summers while I was in school.”
“Doing what?”
“Waitressing at night and on weekends, while doing some tutoring as well.”
