Shelf Awareness: Green Valley Library Book #4 Read online

  The corners of Zeke’s lips quirked up. “As a cosplaying tech geek, I think I passed what people think a long time ago.”

  I giggled. “True. And here I thought you were just so self-assured you didn’t give a shit what people thought.”

  “Anyone who says they don’t care what others think is just full of shit. We all do at some level.”

  “Some are crippled by what others think,” I murmured.

  “That isn’t a bad thing, you know?”

  With a rueful smile, I replied, “Tell that to my self-esteem.”

  “The thing is it shows you have a lot of character because you’re wanting to please others. You can’t fault someone for not being selfish.”

  Slowly, I shook my head at him. “How is it you always manage to somehow see the good in things?”

  He tapped his temple. “Mind over matter.”

  “You sound like Estelle.”

  “Maybe you should listen to her more,” he countered.

  “Maybe I will.”

  He grinned. “Good. Between the two of us maybe we can get you to see what a fucking amazing person you are.”

  And just like that, I was once again reduced to a swoony, teenage girl. “I’ll try.” Wanting to change the subject and regain my dignity, I asked, “Want me to give you a peek of the attic now?”

  “I’d love that.”

  We started through the backyard to the house. Zeke followed me through the door into the kitchen. When I started for the backstairs, I realized he wasn’t behind me. I turned around to find him gazing around the room. “It’s beautiful, isn’t it?”

  “Breathtaking.” He ran his hand over the chair molding on the wall. “They don’t make houses like this anymore, and you don’t find them in Seattle for that matter either.”

  “It was built in the 1800s. It’s been in my grandfather’s family since the early 1900s.”

  “The craftsmanship is so detailed.” After admiring the chair railing, Zeke eyed the railing of the back staircase.

  “What’s this handwriting?”

  I furrowed my brows. “Handwriting?”

  He nodded. “Looks like it’s something carved into the wood. T & B.”

  “Seriously?” I squeezed in beside him and peered down at the wood. “I can’t believe it. Taylor and Beatrice—my grandparents. They must’ve carved it when they moved in here.”

  Zeke smiled down at me. “It’s quite the romantic gesture.”

  “Yes, it is.” I traced the initials with my index finger. “I can’t believe after all the time I’ve spent in this house, I’ve never noticed it.”

  “Sometimes we’re too preoccupied to see something wonderful right in front of us.”

  As the hairs on the back of my neck pricked up, I tore my gaze from the bannister to look at Zeke. Holy intense look, Batman. I realized he wasn’t only speaking about the initials. He was talking about me. About us.

  When he moved closer against me, I knew what was happening. Zeke Masters was going to kiss me. As the Halleluiah chorus began singing in my mind, I prepared myself for the moment I’d been waiting on for weeks.

  Just as Zeke dipped his head, the back door banged open. Startled, Zeke jumped away from me before we whirled around. If looks could kill, Dot would have been writhing on the floor. She was oblivious to my death glare. Instead, she was beaming from ear to ear. “Oh, Finley, I’ve been looking for you everywhere. Floyd is serenading Bea!”

  At that moment, GramBea and Floyd could have been openly fornicating on the porch swing and I wouldn’t have given two shits. All I cared about were Zeke’s lips coming in contact with my own, and that had been ruined. Considering the deer-in-the-headlights look on Zeke’s face I knew it wasn’t going to be happening tonight or potentially anytime soon.

  “I was about to show Zeke the attic,” I explained.

  “That can wait. You have to hear Floyd sing.”

  Throwing an apologetic look at Zeke, I said, “Would you take a rain check on that attic tour?”

  “Of course,” he answered diplomatically.

  When we got outside on the back porch, Floyd was still singing with the musicians. Of course, his gaze was trained solely on GramBea who had one hand on her heart and a mega-watt smile on her face. “What’s the song?” I asked Dot.

  “Nobody’s Darling but Mine,” she replied with a dreamy smile.

  “I don’t think I recognize it. Must be a real oldie, huh?”

  “They used to dance to it all the time at the VFW in Maryville.”

  I turned to stare at Dot. I couldn’t imagine GramBea cutting loose and cutting a rug anywhere, least of all a VFW. She had slow danced with Granddaddy at my wedding, but he’d had to coax her. “Wow,” I murmured.

  “I’m so happy for her,” Dot gushed.

  Normally, I would’ve been too, but the selfish side of me was still reeling from Zeke and me being interrupted. When I didn’t respond immediately, Dot said, “Aren’t you? I mean, it was you who brought this all about when you agreed to give—”

  “Give the party a chance,” I quickly interrupted before she could out me to Zeke.

  Dot’s eyes bulged at the realization of what she had almost done. Her panicked gaze flickered between Zeke and me. “Right. Yes.”

  “And yes, I’m very happy for her,” I replied. And that was the truth.

  “Me too,” Zeke said with a smile.

  When the song came to an end, the crowd erupted into applause and cheers. GramBea rose out of her chair and threw her arms around Floyd’s neck before giving him a quick peck on the cheek. While it was a shocking show of affection for her, I couldn’t have been prouder. If nothing came of tonight with Zeke and me, I could be happy that she had rekindled her romance with Floyd.

  As I stole a glance over at Zeke, he smiled at me. My heart sank a little because it was a completely friend-zone smile—the kind he would give his sisters. Yep, there would be nothing else happening between us tonight.

  Happy fucking divorce party to me!

  Chapter Eighteen

  Although nothing romantic happened between Zeke and me at the party, I still had a good time with him. We holed up on the porch swing and enjoyed the music and conversation. Of course, in the back of my mind, there was still that moment on the stairs. That stolen moment.

  When I finally got into bed after the party, I tossed and turned for hours. I kept replaying that moment with Zeke over and over in my head. I also continuously cursed Dot for interrupting us. Deep down, I knew she hadn’t set out to ruin my entire night, but man, she’d really screwed me over. Or maybe it was screwed me under.

  I’d finally dozed off just before the sun came up, which meant I was still sleeping at ten when GramBea and the girls burst into my room to rehash how amazing the party had been for the next half hour. Once we were talked out, they left me alone again, and I went back to sleep for a few hours.

  Finally around two, I decided there was no point in lying around and wasting a perfectly good day when I could be working on my book. Since most of the books I needed for research were at the library, I decided to drag my sorry ass out of bed. After lumbering like a zombie into the shower, I let the scalding water wake me up. Once I finished, I threw on a ratty pair of yoga pants and a Georgia State University T-Shirt and then swept my hair into a ponytail. I grabbed my laptop and notebook and headed to the library.

  It was a relatively slow day in the history room with patrons, so I was able to get a lot of work done without interruptions. When five o’clock rolled around, I was still making headway, so I told Thuy I was going to stay. I didn’t take a break until eight when I ran over to The Front Porch to grab something to eat and drink. Of course, after her barrage of anxious texts, I let GramBea know I didn’t know when I would be home. The words were flowing into chapters, and I didn’t want to stop until I absolutely had to. Like, when I fell asleep drooling on one of the history room tables.

  It was close to eleven when a voice behind me cau
sed me to jump out of my skin. “What the fuck?” I screeched.

  Zeke held up his hands in mock surrender. “I’m sorry to scare you. I’ve been calling your name.”

  I rubbed my hand over my chest where my heart was in need of a defibrillator. “I was so engrossed in my work, I didn’t hear you.”

  “Next time I’ll bring a bullhorn,” he teased.

  “What are you doing here?”

  “When I went by the house, Beatrice told me you were here, working on your book.”

  Furrowing my brows at him, I asked, “You went by the house?”

  “I knew I had to talk to you, and it needed to be in person.”

  My heart once again became erratic. “You need to talk to me?”

  With a bob of his head, he replied, “I’ve been a fucking mess all day.”

  I swallowed hard. “You have?”

  “Yeah.”

  Although dating manuals would have chided me for admitting it, I said, “I know what you mean. I’ve been a mess too.” I motioned to the scattered array of books, documents, and my laptop. “I came here to work because I needed a focus.”

  “Me too. I mean, I spent most of the day in the woods, but I still needed a focus. I’m surprised I’m still standing since I didn’t sleep much last night.”

  “Me neither.”

  Zeke closed the distance between us. “I kept lying there replaying one moment over and over in my head.”

  I gasped. “You did?”

  He nodded. “Is that why you couldn’t sleep? Because you kept thinking of a specific moment?”

  “Yes,” I replied in a whisper.

  “Was it the one when we almost kissed?”

  My heart thrummed wildly in my ears, making it hard to speak. Instead, I bobbed my head. Once he had my answer, Zeke’s hands cupped the sides of my jaw. The white-hot intensity of his stare caused a shiver to run through my body. Dipping his head, he brought his lips to mine.

  Sweet Lord in heaven. I’d read in novels and seen on television when women experienced fireworks at a kiss. Kisses that were life-changing and mind-altering. For my adult life, I’d considered those works of fiction from an extremely imaginative mind. I suppose it should go without saying I hadn’t remotely experienced any of that until I kissed Zeke. It might’ve been a long time coming, but it was so worth the wait.

  The hands at my cheeks slid down my neck to my shoulders. As the warmth of his tongue swept inside my mouth, Zeke’s fingertips feathered up and down my arms. My hands, which had been frozen at my side, reanimated and found their way to Zeke’s lower back. I bunched the fabric of his shirt between my fingers before jerking him closer to me. If it had been at all possible, I would have climbed him like one of the coon dogs here in town did when they treed a squirrel. Sure, it wasn’t the most romantic analogy, but it was the one that seemed to make the most sense at the moment. Of course, Zeke’s assault on my lips didn’t leave me with very much sense.

  Just when I thought I might pass out from the sensory overload of Zeke’s kissing, he pulled away. “Was that okay?” he questioned breathlessly.

  “Yeah, it was.” I shook my head. “I mean, it was more than just okay. It was epic and phenomenal.”

  With a grin, Zeke replied, “While I concur, I meant was it okay I kissed you.”

  “Right. Yes, it was all right.”

  “Are you sure? Your furrowed brows would lend one to imagine you’re feeling conflicted about what happened.”

  Damn, he really did know me so very well. “It’s true I’ve worried about us starting up something when we work together.” As I traced a finger over my swollen lips, I shuddered at the memory of his mouth and tongue. “I want to be strong and do the right thing, but at the same time, the way you look, coupled with the way you kiss, has me prepared to completely disregard those concerns.”

  “It is a possibility it could get awkward. At the same time, there’s also the possibility it won’t.”

  “I’m not a math person, but I think it’s safe to assume there’s a fifty-fifty chance, right?”

  Zeke nodded. “Exactly.”

  “There’s also a practicality issue.”

  “Because we’re making out in the history room?”

  “I mean, talk about making it awkward.”

  “We can go to my hotel.”

  With a groan, I buried my head in my hands. “I know. I totally shouldn’t give a shit about things getting awkward. There is not one good reason as a newly divorced woman I shouldn’t use and abuse you in a million different ways.”

  Zeke pulled my hands away from my face before he began kissing my fingertips. “Yes. You have my permission to use me. Over and over again if it pleases you.”

  Seriously, Finley, are you really going to let your rational side overrule both your heart and your vagina? There would always be numerous reasons for me not to fornicate with Zeke in the history room. Today I would be ignoring all of them.

  I lunged at Zeke, sending us crashing back into one of the bookshelves. Whatever tender kiss we experienced before was replaced with me practically mauling his mouth. I wrapped my hands around his neck while one of his hands came to cup one of my ass cheeks. His other hand found my breast and began kneading it through my T-shirt. The lack of contact appeared not enough for either of us because the next thing I knew he was ripping my T-shirt over my head. Both it and my bra were unceremoniously dropped to the floor. My nipples hardened as Zeke’s fingers tweaked and twisted them. All the while our tongues were dancing against each other.

  We didn’t stay against the one set of bookshelves. We kissed and groped and groaned across the front of several of them before finally finding our way back to the table I’d been working at. As I cupped his growing erection through his jeans, Zeke hoisted me up and deposited me on the surface. We then continued a similar assault of each other on the table.

  At the sound of crackling and crunching, I suddenly jerked away from Zeke. I gasped in horror at the realization I was grinding my ass against priceless historical documents.

  “Shit, the papers,” I lamented.

  “We can move,” Zeke replied.

  My non-sex-crazed self would have totally been on board with Zeke’s suggestion. However, the feel of his hands and tongue on my body sent all rational thought out of my mind. Leaning over, I pulled them out from under my ass before tossing them over Zeke’s shoulder where they fluttered to the floor. “Fuck the papers, and fuck me!”

  “Yes, ma’am,” he replied with a grin.

  As I jerked my yoga pants and panties down my thighs, Zeke worked on shedding his shirt and pants. Neither of us were really thinking that perhaps getting buck-naked in the history room wasn’t the best idea. Although I should’ve cared about our lack of propriety, I didn’t. I loved taking in every inch of his body. What I had thought was an amazing body clothed was absolute naked perfection.

  Once Zeke stood before me in all his nakedness, the enormity of what we were about to do hit me. I was really about to have sex with Zeke.

  “Do you have—?”

  “A condom?”

  “Yes.”

  He nodded before pulling his wallet out of his pants pocket. Although I was glad he had come prepared, I also couldn’t help feeling a little surprised. He had stated he wasn’t the ladies’ man type, yet here he was parading around with a condom in his wallet.

  After rolling the condom down what I had to admit was a very impressive specimen of a cock, Zeke rejoined me. Unlike my fantasy, Zeke didn’t bend me over the table. Instead, he lowered me on my back. After stepping between my legs, he guided his erection to my core. He didn’t waste a moment before thrusting inside me, which caused me to cry out.

  Zeke froze mid-pump. “Are you all right?” he panted.

  “Yes. Sorry. It’s good—it’s just been awhile.”

  “I’m sorry. I should have gone easier.”

  I shook my head. “No, no. This is good.” Really fucking good.

 
“You’re sure?”

  “Yes.”

  Gripping my hips, Zeke jerked me hard against him. I wrapped my legs around his waist, drawing him even closer. He began pounding in and out of me. I grabbed his shoulders and held on for dear life. Our movements were harsh as we frantically moved against each other.

  It was pure fucking, and it was fucking amazing.

  A scream tore from my lips when I started to come. It was from both pleasure and shock since I normally wasn’t one who got off from penetration. As I rode out the waves, I squeezed my legs tighter against Zeke as my fingers dug into the flesh on his back. After a few more harsh pumps, Zeke came, shouting my name.

  We lay there a few moments, catching our breath and letting our heartbeats regulate. After kissing my lips and then the tops of my breasts, Zeke rolled off me onto his back on the table. He slung an arm over his forehead. “Damn,” he murmured appreciatively.

  “Mm hmm,” I replied.

  As I stared up at the history room ceiling, I couldn’t help thinking about the fantasy I’d had and how close it had been to reality. At the absurdity of it all, a laugh bubbled from my lips.

  Zeke turned his head toward me. Furrowing his brows, he asked, “Are you laughing?”

  Even though I tried biting down on my lip, I couldn’t stop the giggles. “I’m sorry.”

  “You should be. No man wants to hear laughter after a sexual encounter.”

  “I’m not laughing because of that.”

  “Then what is it?”

  “It’s just . . .” No, I seriously could not bring up my fantasy to him. It was too weird. “It’s nothing.”

  “Oh, it’s something, and no offense, but you’re starting to give me an inferiority complex over here.”

  “I’m sorry. I would never in a million years want you to feel that way.”

  “Then what is it?”

  “Okay, fine. I was just thinking about how similar the sex dream I had about you was to the real thing.”

  A cocky grin curved on Zeke’s lips. “You had a sex dream about me?”