Page 1 of Cohen

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COHEN

It’s good to be back in Kismet Falls.

I’m not even trying to hide the big, goofy grin on my face as I slowly walk down Main Street, taking in all the sights that look so different to my grown-up eyes even though nothing has changed very much in the nearly twenty years that I’ve been gone.

Well, nothing much has changed on the outside. The buildings look a lot like I remember them, though some look a little worse for wear while it’s clear others have gotten a recent remodel. Heath Automotive is still there on the edge of town, but I’m pretty sure I saw Griffin working in the garage instead of his old man when I passed by earlier.

And speaking of renovations, my grin grows even wider when I spot the old building at the very end of Main Street. The one I own. The one I’ve spent months and a boatload of money renovating and redecorating from the ground up, until the white limestone and brick facade practically gleams in the midday sunshine.

After all those long years of undergrad, then law school, then a decade working as a junior associate for a firm in the city, I’ve come back home to practice law and to take ownership of a little slice of Kismet Falls.

I’m tempted to keep walking down to my building just so I can admire it up close again, but I’ll get my chance to do that soon enough. First, I have to stop by the library—the place I used to call my home away from home when I was in high school and dreaming of the day I’d get to graduate and leave this tiny, boring town.

I shake my head and sigh. My outlook on life has changed a lot since then. I’ve had my fill of the city, thank you very much. Now, the prospect of living here and providing an important service for some of the folks I grew up with is more fulfilling and exciting than anything I’ve ever done.

The library is looming in front of me before I even realize I’ve made it this far down the street. The old, two-story brick building looks exactly the same, with the flag pole and bike rack out front and the sign in the window that proclaimsReading is Funto everyone who passes by.

I’m glad to see this place hasn’t changed a bit. I reach for the door, already thinking about how nice it’ll be to catch up with Mrs. Molina, the elderly librarian who has been running this place for decades. She didn’t have any kids or grandchildren of her own as far as I knew, but she always had fresh, homemade chocolate chip cookies sitting out on a tray at the front desk for anyone who wanted one. There were plenty of kids in town who weren’t interested in reading but would still stop by the library to say hello to Mrs. Molina and grab a cookie or two on their way out the door.

The smell of old books and dust, along with the faint sound of classical music playing over the speakers, instantly transports me back to my high school days as I step inside. I look over to the front desk but don’t see Mrs. Molina or her famous chocolate chip cookies. Can’t really fault her for that, though. She has to be pushing at least eighty years old by now, so she’s definitely earned a break from all that baking.

I’m here to find out if the town has any sort of legal database or at least a collection of records that I might be able to access for research purposes, but I find myself wandering aimlessly up and down each aisle, breathing in the nostalgia as I reach out and let my fingertips brush along the spines of the old books.

Damn, it really is good to be back.

Being back in the library after all these years away has me so wrapped up in my own world and my old memories that I almost don’t see the woman standing up on a stool at the end of the aisle until I’m just a few feet away from her.

I stop in my tracks and watch for a few seconds while she shelves some books from a tall cart next to her. I don’t recognize her—not from where I’m standing behind her, anyway—but I know for sure she isn’t Mrs. Molina.

The elderly librarian would have been frail and stooped by now after years of shuffling around and hauling books up and down the flights of stairs that led up to the second floor and down to the basement archives. But this woman…

I can tell at a glance that she’s in her prime. Even the long, pencil-thin skirt that nearly reaches down to her ankles and a conservative pink cardigan can’t hide her sexy curves. Her dark hair is pulled up in a bun on top of her head, but there are little stray curls falling down all over, like she may have put it up in a hurry.

I’m mesmerized just watching her, and even though I’m desperate to see her face, I can’t stop myself from standing here quietly for a few more seconds before I clear my throat. “Excuse me, Miss…”

She gasps and half-turns toward me, dropping the book in her hands and wobbling on the stool in a slow-motion move that makes my stomach clench as I instinctively reach out to steady her.

Even in a near-panic, the first thing my brain registers is how soft her skin is where I’m touching her arm. The next thing it registers is how her retro cat-eye glasses frame her face and her dark brown eyes perfectly. I never knew I was into that sort of mid-sixties meets mid-eighties fashion, but on her?

Perfect.

Beautiful.

Exquisite.

“Are you okay?” I ask, finally remembering my manners and my voice. Jesus, I can’t stop looking into her pretty brown eyes, though. I let my hands linger for a few seconds longer than absolutely necessary, but not so long that it’s weird or creepy. I hope. “Thought you were going to take a tumble there for a second.” I finally take my hands away and quickly shove them into my pockets in case temptation strikes.

“I thought I was going to, too,” she nods and smooths a hand down the front of her sweater, highlighting her delicious curves again for my hungry eyes. “Thank you for, um… for showing up at the right time.”

“My pleasure,” I nod, forgetting all about why I’m here in the first place or that a world even exists outside these four walls. “I have a feeling I’ll be spending quite a bit of time in here from now on.”

She cocks her head to the side and gives me a curious look as she absently pushes her glasses higher on her nose. And damn if she isn’t blushing just a little, just enough to make her that tiny bit more perfect.

This woman has stepped straight out of every sexy librarian fantasy I never knew I had, and I’m not afraid to admit—at least here in the privacy of my own thoughts—that I want to know more about her. Starting with… everything.

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