Page 14 of The Pocket Pair

Maybe I imagined it, the harsh fluorescent lights triggering some kind of meltdown in my brain. Because I’ve never allowed whatever unnamed thing simmers under the surface where Val is concerned to come up for air. Not until tonight.

I haven’t allowed myself to think about Val as anything other than Winnie’s friend. I don’t think about how being around Val feels like being wrapped in a soft scarf made of sunshine. I don’t consider how beautiful she looks when she laughs, which is often and loudly. I’ve barely noticed how amazing it is that she can look so good wearing paint-splattered Dickie’s coveralls.

Okay, so maybe I have thought about all these things. But I have a special and impenetrable steel vault in my mind where they live.

I’ve certainly never stood as close to her as I did tonight, let her touch me the way she did while bandaging my hand. Not once have I been flirty or leaned close to whisper in her ear, relishing in her visible reaction to my closeness.

So … yeah. I’m pretty desperate to see her again. Not because I plan to continue whatever THAT was. Nope. That is a Bad Idea and is Never Gonna Happen.

My brain and my body need a factory reset to my default position. They need to be reminded that I can’t have those kinds of thoughts about Val. Winnie’s threats aside, Val is the kind of woman who deserves a good guy willing to put a ring on it. Considering I don’t plan on getting married, oh, EVER, thanks to my deep-seated Daddy issues, Val shouldn’t be on my mind. She can’t.

Especially not if there’s any truth to what people keep telling me, that I’m just like my dad.

“You know,” I tell James, setting down my beer, “I have a key to the back entrance of the library.”

He offers me a rare grin. A wicked one. “Officer Boyd, I’m shocked. You’re not so law-abiding, after all?”

I shrug. “I’m a public servant; it’s a public library. Seems okay to me.”

“Do we take Tweedle-dee and Tweedle-dumbbell?” James tilts his head toward his brothers, who are arguing about whether to use a credit card or PayPal to sign up for their face yoga subscription.

“Pat has to stay for Jo,” I say. “Plus, you think either of them could keep their mouths shut if we snuck in there?”

James snorts in response.

I stand quietly, slowly, so as not to attract attention. “Then let’s get out of here while they’re still figuring out how to downward dog their faces.”

CHAPTER 5

Chevy

James leans close in the darkness and whispers, “This is it, huh?”

My thoughts exactly.

The Ladies Literary and Libation Society isn’t quite what I imagined. James and I came in through the upstairs fire escape door. The alarm has been broken forever, something I’ll remember to address Monday morning with the fire marshal. It’s unsafe, but at least it also allowed us to creep to the top of the library’s landing next to the grand, curved staircase.

We’re standing in the shadows, near enough to the balcony rail to look down without being seen. James conveniently chose a spot where he can see Winnie’s profile, allowing me to discreetly watch Val as well.

Which sounds creepier than it is. I’m not, like, watching watching, like some kind of ghoul of the library staring down from the shadows. More like, I’m a kid with a fever and Val is the thermometer that keeps telling me my fever is still there.

The fever, of course, being these uncomfortable attraction feelings which are—yep—still here. Not just CVS-related.

Okay, time for that reset, brain. Let’s get with it, body. Back to the norm of pretending Val is nothing special. That the sight of her doesn’t always make your blood hum like it’s been electrified. That when she touched you earlier, you didn’t start to feel actual feelings and …

Hang on. This reset is WAY off-track.

“A little underwhelming if you ask me,” I say, my eyes on Val’s hair.

There is absolutely nothing underwhelming about her hair, which is long and thick and the color of a good, strong coffee. Right now, she’s taken it out of her trademark messy bun and is braiding it, her slender fingers moving through the strands gracefully.

Those hands put these bandages on my knuckles, I think.

My fever is RAGING. The reset is FAILING.

James shifts quietly beside me, and I rip my gaze away from Val with no small amount of effort. And only after I’ve let my eyes skate over the swipe of paint I saw on her cheek earlier in CVS. It’s become kind of a game for me—always looking for color on her skin. Her fingertips or nails are almost always a safe bet, but I love it when I catch a swipe of blue or green on her cheek or a streak of yellow in the tips of her hair as though she leaned too far over a cup of paint.

Focus, deputy. You’re here to reset those kinds of feelings, not indulge in them. Also, you need to solve the mystery of Mari’s big secret and whoever is pregnant.

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