Page 18 of Overdue

“What are you working on?”

I’m startled badly enough, I break the lead on the mechanical pencil I’m using. “Jesus! You have to stop doing that.”

Austen gives me a smug smile. “Eliot said the town council has finally decided the square needs a facelift.”

“Personally, I think it needs to be gutted and started again. Mr. Daily put me in charge of our presentation in two weeks.”

“Is that why you asked for the books on landscape design?”

“Originally, I just wanted to learn more about design. Now, though, I have to use them to pull something out of my ass that Ron will like.”

Her smile turns into a grin. Does she have any idea how one smile from her can make my entire day? “Can I see what you have so far?”

“Sure.”

She moves to my side of the table and sits down. Trust me when I say, not only does she look amazing, she smells like something I want to bury myself in. The scent is lavender. I should know, I’ve planted enough of the stuff.

Austen moves her chair closer and brushes against my arm. Did I gasp? Not possible, men don’t gasp. I think we snort. Anyway, if she noticed, she’s giving no indication.

“The main part needs to make a bold statement.” I cover by saying the highest number of boring words possible. “There needs to be a focal point that draws people to the square. My first thought was a shade tree, but now, I like the idea of the traditional pavilion.”

I flip the sketch pad to show her the page with a large tree, then the one with an oversized gazebo.

“I didn’t know you could draw.” She flips between the two pictures, studying them intently.

“It was one of the classes I paid attention to in school. So, what do you think?” She studies the two pages for a few more minutes. “I’d really like to know your opinion.” She looks up at me. Her deep chocolate eyes search my face.

“Since when?” she asks softly.

Have I always been such a blowhard? She’s the smartest woman I’ve ever known. Even as kids, I was amazed by her ability to recite a famous quote, lecture someone on the evils of censorship, or read literature that only college students tackled.

She even won a writing contest while still in high school. Gran sent me the magazine the story was published in. I read it at least a dozen times. When she continued to have her stories published in various magazines, I hunted down every one. They’re still stacked on the bookshelf in my bedroom.

“Since always, Austen.” Her gaze softens. “I’ve always valued your opinion.” You know, if I just lean a little closer, I can brush my lips against hers. I’ll probably have the living shit slapped out of me again, but it would be so worth it.

Before I can act on my incredibly stupid idea, she pushes her chair back and stands.

“I love the idea of a pavilion. You could even sell custom-stamped bricks to offset the cost. I know it sounds a little commonplace now, but people around here really like the feeling of forever being a part of the community. Just a thought.”

She steps around the end of the table to return to the front of the library. The local students have started showing up, and she needs to help with the chaos.

“Miss Caraway.” She stops and turns back to me. “Thank you. It’s a great idea.”

“Good luck, Mr. Campbell.” A smile lights up her face, and my heart skips a beat. She returns to the circulation desk. I glance over at the table next to mine. It’s the same group of giggly girls as yesterday.

“Ladies.” I give them my best smile. The giggling increases for a moment before, as if on cue, they all turn around to whisper to each other. I let out a sigh. I’ll never understand women. Apparently of any age.

This time, when five o’clock hits, my phone vibrates on the table to let me know. I won’t be late this time to make Gran something to eat. I managed to find my old school backpack, which is better than carrying everything loose in his hands. I wrestle everything inside. Slinging the bag over my shoulder, I make sure to push my chair under the table.

“Reed, wait,” Austen calls from her office. I lean against the doorjamb, watching her hunt on her messy desk for something. “Oh, here it is.” She looks up waving a piece of paper.

I should have taken my chances and kissed her. Even disheveled and harried, she’s stunning.

“I requested a couple of books specifically on park landscaping and hardscape creations. I thought it might help you. They should be delivered tomorrow. I wrote the titles down for you.”

Stepping forward, I take the piece of paper. I act like I’m studying what she’s written. In reality, I’m just stalling.

“Do you want to come for dinner tonight?” I blurt, looking up.

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