Page 62 of Slash & Burn

“Why didn’t you stay down there?”

“Cause then I couldn’t be here doing lunch with you.”

She gave me a look, not buying a word of it. “You could have just as easily driven up this morning.”

I scratched the back of my head. I didn’t want to spend my time with Jill talking about hockey. It dominated my mind every second I was away from her, and that was how it should be. But while I had the woman’s gorgeous smile on me in real time, hockey was the last thing I wanted to think about.

Leaning forward, I got her attention. “I’d rather talk about what we’re going to dotonight.” I wasn’t sure I was ready to give Jill what she’d been asking for, but there were still a variety of options playing out in my head.

“I can’t,” she said, frowning.

My stomach twisted. “Oh.”

Laying her menu on top of mine, she sighed. “I’d love to. But I have a work thing.”

“Gotcha. What kind of ‘thing’?” I was trying hard to keep the disappointment out of my voice but a night on my own wasn’t at all appealing at the moment.

“One of those silly lake tours. It’s a fundraiser for the library’s new computer lab, I think? I don’t even know. I wasn’t supposed to have to go, but Cleo asked me out of the blue the other day.”

“She asked you because you’re the current face of the library, and you’re doing awesome.” Her cheeks pinked at my praise, which only made me want to give her more. “I bet you get a promotion out of all this.”

Now her face really got red. “I don’t think so.”

“Why not? You’re great at your job, Jill. The kids at our programs love you.”

She shook her head. “They loveyou. I’m just the book lady.”

Nudging her leg under the table I smirked at her. “The sweet, kind,hotbook lady. The book lady they all run to as soon as I’m done. The one they whisper their jokes to.”

The quietest of kids loved her, trusted her. There was no question why; her energy was so accepting, so supportive. She might think she was just the logistical coordinator for this whole thing, but I could see it from the start. Her presence changed the tone of every event and I knew without a doubt more kids were going to get into reading because of her.

“You’re going to go out on that boat and charm the wallets right off the rich snobs who bought a ticket. After a glass of wine or two, they won’t even realize that you’ve got them eating out of your hand.”

She laughed at me, but I could see the way she pulled her shoulders back. Some part of her wanted to win at this, wanted to prove—maybe just to herself—that she could be someone she’d never been before.

“I think you got hit a little too hard in the head, Holloway,” she muttered as the waitress approached. “But thank you.” She dipped her head, a tiny smirk playing on her lips that I wanted to see a lot more often.

“You don’t really have to do this,” Jill said as I walked her down the hill toward the commercial docks. Unlike the quiet town marina around the other side of the cove, this was where the tourists came to rent their jet skis and climb aboard old-fashioned cruise boats for their narrated tours of the lake. It was July third and the tourist season was in full effect. Even the bar that sat on the far side of the boardwalk was packed, and it was barely two in the afternoon.

“It’s no big deal,” I said, unwilling to admit that I’d just wanted to spend as much time with her as I could before I headed home to an empty house.

“They’re already boarding.” Her eyes were locked on the crowd of well-dressed banker and lawyer types who were handing their tickets to the attendant at the end of the dock.

I spotted Cleo Hawkins, Jill’s boss. She was greeting everyone as they came aboard, pointing out the observation deck, complete with a bar at one end. I’d been on a few of those boat tours myself over the years and it was a given that at least one person was going to get sloppy before they returned to the dock. Something about booze and open water.

Glancing at Jill, I suddenly didn’t love the idea of her being out there with a bunch of entitled trust fund managers who got their rocks off of feeling like they owned the things they invested in. Including her.

“I should get over there.” She went to hug me goodbye but stopped short.

“What?” I spun to look at what had caught her eye.

Across the parking lot, walking casually toward the boat, was none other than the asshole himself. Adam.

“He’sgoing?” she whispered, the words sort of falling out of her in disbelief.

My first instinct was to take a hold of her. I wrapped one arm around her waist possessively, even though the guy was fifty feet away and hadn’t even looked in our direction.

“You don’t have to go.”

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