Page 21 of You Can't Fight Lightning
Then the door opened, and all my dreams walked in. Although at this point, I’d be inclined to call them nightmares.
Z Olimbos was back. He had a reusable grocery bag in his hand, and he looked… well… the best way to put it washarassed.
I found myself intrigued, damn him. This wasn’t a guy I’d ever thought to be harassed, but he looked like it had already been some kind of day.
My issues with him aside, I could understand having some kind of day.
Z came straight to the bar and sat down heavily.
Yep. Some kind of day. “What can I get you?”
“Water, definitely. Then a gimlet. Make it a double.”
“You got it.” Oh. Well. I could kick myself for my curiosity. “You look like someone stole your bike.”
“What? Oh, no. I’ve just been involved in a new research project.”
“What kind?” I set the gimlet in front of him.
“Personal.” His eyes slid away.
Which was strange.
“What’s in the bag?”
He looked down, almost seeming surprised he had a bag. “Books.”
“Books?” That wasn’t on my what’s-in-the-bag bingo card.
He nodded. “I’m going to be here a while, so I decided to go to the library.”
“And they gave you a card?” We had a good library here, but the librarians were like warriors who defended the homeland. No address, no card.
I could swear the tops of Z’s cheeks went red. “I had to leave a deposit.”
“What kind?”
“The five-hundred-dollar kind. And a copy of my driver’s license and my credit card, in case I harmed one of the precious books. They looked at me as though I might be a criminal, waiting for the moment to turn down the corner of a page.”
His indignation made me laugh. It startled me. I wasn’t ready—or willing—to laugh with this guy. “The research must be pretty important.”
“It is.” He took a big drink of the gimlet.
“Well, congratulations on wooing the librarians.”
Z’s head jerked around at my words.
“What?”
“Nothing. Thank you.” He shook his head and looked down again.
“Can I get you something to eat? The chili is amazing.” What was going on with me?
“Chili sounds wonderful. I’ve been so focused I’d forgotten to eat.” His slow smile was more like what I’d seen from him yesterday, and I found myself more comfortable with this Z, versus the lost and frustrated Z.
Easier to keep him at a distance, a voice in my head said.
What the hell? Now I was hearing voices? Without another word, I put in the order for his chili, and made myself busy at the other end of the bar.
