Page 5 of Seas the Dating Coach

A frantic figure rounds the corner, and then, for the second time that day, Green Eyes slams into my chest—this time, face first. The two books in her hands clap on the sides of my arms as she tries to plow through me like a linebacker.

“You again.” Her eyes are comically large before they shoot back toward the door.

I recognize the man from this morning’s coffee shop kerfuffle, suit wrinkled slightly, bee-lining toward the hold shelf.

“Move.” She pushes me again, and I step back so the large bookshelf conceals us both.

Green Eyes instantly flips and peers around the wooden edge, using the two paperbacks as a kind of shield for her face. It reminds me of hiding behind a newspaper in an old movie, and I can’t help but laugh. Instantly, those eyes are on me again, this time pinched with warning as she puts her finger to her lips. The corner of my mouth quirks, but she doesn’t catch it. Her attention is already back on the man pulling his phone from his pants pocket.

Since I’m a full head taller than her, I lean around the edge too. Coffee Shop Guy grabs his hold and uses the library card barcode on his phone to check it out at one of the automated kiosks. At least this branch is on par with the rest of the libraries regarding check-out procedures.

When he stops to adjust his glasses before running his hand through his hair, Green Eyes makes this wistful noise. It’s so soft and sweet that a flare of irritation spirals through me.

Really? For that guy?

I quickly check myself because it’s not like I should care.

With both books clutched to her chest, it seems she’s forgotten about hiding. Coffee Shop Guy recycles his receipt and strides back through the automated front door. The way she slumps against the side of the bookcase swirls an enigmatic emotion that I don’t know how to deal with, so I cover it with a quip.

“What is it that does it for you? The glasses? The suit? The general frantic demeanor?”

The look I receive is one of absolute bafflement, like she forgot I was standing twelve inches from her. Seriously? I can’t walk into my favorite bar and not leave with at least six phone numbers—even with my new alias. Or at least I could when I used to live in civilization. Now, I have nothing to do at night in this tiny town but spend extra hours at the gym.

“Atticus isn’t frantic. He’s busy. There’s a difference.” A tightly coiled strand of chestnut hair springs over her shoulder as she straightens.

“Atticus?” I glance back at the exit. “Okay, he’s got a good name. I’ll give him that.”

To Kill a Mockingbirdis one of my favorites. I have a signed first edition, gifted to me from my grandmother before she passed. It was critically acclaimed literary works like that that fueled my decision for this career. Of course, it wasn’t until I defied my family’s lineage, choosing to earn a masters in library and information studies instead of following my older brother into the family business that I learned that librarianship is about so much more than literature.

“He’s also a brilliant accountant.”

When I snort, her pointer finger pins one of my vest buttons to my sternum. My cheek twitches reflexively. I did not see this fire coming from her. It’s such a contrast from the shy-girl persona she embodied this morning—almost like I’m meeting two entirely different people.

Intriguing.

“Knock it off, mainlander. I’ve heard about you.”

When I pointedly look at her hand with a wry smile, she quickly withdraws it. “Have you? And what have you heard, gorgeous?”

She blinks at the nickname. I know I’m laying it on a little thick, but I’m too interested in her reaction not to. Will she bark at me again for flirting so blatantly? Do I want her to?

“I know you want to destroy this library.” The books are dropped into her bag so she can ball her hands on her hips, the stance accentuating her curves. “And I know you go through women like tissue paper.”

I frown, taking another step back so her delicious magnolia and coffee-tinged scent will stop messing with my head. “I’m trying to improve this library, not that any of you people will see reason. And the status of my consensual relationships with othermainlanders”—I use the word locals are so fond of—“isn’t any of your, nor anyone else’s, concern.”

I have no earthly idea how she learned about my dating life, but I’ve always been upfront that I’m not interested in serious relationships. Not after…everything. The women I’ve spent time with over the last few years have beenmore than agreeablewith that.

Our gazes are locked in such an unexpected battle of wits that both of us startle when another voice asks, “Excuse me. Could I get that book?”

three

Vivian

Come on! I know I made a wish, Ocean, but give a girl some grace.Because of course Atticus is standing right beside us, pointing toward the latest spy thriller that I and this….this infuriating stranger are blocking.

He’s exactly as Brynn described when she dropped off a cinnamon roll earlier—self-centered and over-confident. My sister said the only reason he’d caught my fall was to use it as a strategic maneuver to gain town approval. My teeth had remained clenched all afternoon. I may not be able to communicate as effectively as others, but that shouldn’t make me a helpless pawn in someone else’s game.

The mainlander recovers before I do, stepping aside. “Excuse me.”

---