Looking for Trouble

Sophie tipped her head in what she hoped looked like innocent bewilderment.

“I mean...” Jean-Marie cleared her throat. “Of course. If you’d like to take on the project...”

“It only makes sense,” Sophie said. “I’m working until seven and you know how quiet it’s been. I should be able to get it finished before I leave.”

They all sat in awkward silence for a few more beats before Jean-Marie stood. “Wonderful. As you know, the Providence Historical Trust is considering sponsoring a new local history section in the library. I’d like them to be pleased with this display, so let me know if you need anything from me or from the trust. I’ll be happy to contact them for you. We don’t need any drama.”

Jean-Marie left the room, followed by her loyal administrative assistant, Yolanda. Sophie and Lauren stood, too. Lauren closed the door. “Are you okay?”

“I’m great,” Sophie said, lying to her friend without any guilt at all.

“Are you sure? I was a little surprised you volunteered to work on it.”

“It really doesn’t have anything to do with me, so no big deal.”

Lauren watched her for a long moment, doubt written in every line of her face, but she finally shrugged. “All right. It’s your family scandal. As long as it doesn’t affect our girls’ night out tonight, you do whatever you want.”

That actually made Sophie laugh, but she still made a quick escape, grabbing the box of artifacts and heading for the small lobby of the library.

Her family scandal. God, she’d thought it was finally behind her. But she should’ve known better. It had been part of her life for as long as she could remember and it always would be if she stayed in Jackson. But she knew how to deal with it. The same way she always had: by defying everyone’s expectations. By being a good girl and not losing her cool. By not giving them anything to talk about.

She hadn’t quite maintained that cool this afternoon, but Mrs. Bishop was pushing Sophie to the brink. The woman had made Sophie’s childhood a nightmare, and now she’d picked it up again twenty-five years later like a returning plague of locusts.

When Sophie had moved into her uncle’s vacant house on Fair Street a year ago, she’d had no idea that Rose Bishop lived a few houses away. She hadn’t thought of the woman in years. That part of her life had seemed as far away as it could be.

The first time she’d caught sight of Mrs. Bishop coming out of her house, Sophie almost hadn’t recognized her. She looked like a harmless old woman now instead of the threat she’d represented to Sophie as a child. But harmless old woman was just a disguise, apparently. Rose Bishop had lain in wait, pretending to only give Sophie the cold shoulder at first. But now it was full-out war. Sophie had awoken this morning to find two dozen flyers about the dedication ceremony taped to her front door. Unbelievable.

She finished adjusting the shelves of the glassed-in display nook, then carefully placed the artifacts that Merry Kade had brought over. An old rolling pin, some woodworking tools, metal toy soldiers a child had played with long ago. There were also pictures of the town and printed descriptions of each item. Sophie really wouldn’t have to do much work at all, but the display would look too bare without more.

She stepped back and eyed the start of her work. She’d have to pull the shelves back out, but the display would look really nice with a big, faded picture of the town of Providence set behind it as a backdrop, along with some of the rusted barbed wire they’d used for an earlier historical display.

The door behind her opened, and Sophie glanced over her shoulder with a smile and said, “Good afternoon.” For a moment the patron was silhouetted by the slanting sunlight and she was reminded of the man she’d nearly run right into an hour earlier, but when he got farther in and offered a cheery wave, she saw that it was only the postal carrier.

But too late. Her heart had already skipped a few beats, remembering that momentary panic. First, of looking up and finding someone in her path. Then of registering his height and the width of his shoulders and the menacing shadow of the stubble on his face that matched the stubble on his head. And then those bright blue eyes.

She’d realized who he was then. Mrs. Bishop wasn’t the type of person who inspired people to visit, after all, so Sophie might’ve suspected anyway. But that angled jaw and those blue eyes looked like Shane Harcourt’s. His long-lost little brother was home.

Not so little, though. Not little at all.

She’d never met him before. The brothers had been too old for her to have known them in school, and she would’ve avoided them regardless. But living in the tiny town of Jackson, there’d been no way to avoid Shane Harcourt as an adult. Luckily, he’d never treated her with anything more than polite calm.

Alex Bishop didn’t look like the calm, polite type.

She couldn’t guess how he would’ve responded if he’d realized who Sophie was. After all, it wasn’t every day you met the woman whose mother had disappeared with your father. That terrible and permanent connection had been made even more awkward by Rose Bishop’s simmering hatred. For all Sophie knew, Alex Bishop shared the feeling.

She decided to go the long way around the block on her way home from work tonight, just in case. If the Providence dedication had inspired a Bishop family reunion, Sophie didn’t want any part of it.

“Sophie?”

She jumped, too lost in thought to have noticed the door opening again, but she recognized the man’s voice and was smiling even before she turned around. “Hi, Will.”

“You look lovely today.”

She touched the soft cotton skirt of her favorite green dress. “Thank you.”

“I was wondering if you’d reconsidered my offer.”

Her smile widened. He was awfully cute with his dimpled smile and curly blond hair. “I told you I don’t date men I work with.”

“But I don’t work with you,” he drawled, leaning against the wall and aiming that adorable smile at her again. His blue uniform shirt only added to the cuteness.

“The fire station is just on the other side of that wall. It’s too close for comfort. It would be awkward when we stopped dating.”

“Who says we’d stop?”

Sophie just shook her head in exasperation. She says they’d stop. First of all, while it was stimulating to work in the same building that housed the fire station, it really wasn’t ideal for meaningless sexual flings. Way too close to home.

Second, Will was cute and all, and she enjoyed sitting outside watching him play shirtless basketball with the other firefighters during the summer, but he wasn’t her type. Too local. Too young. And too gullible to her good-girl camouflage. She’d been working near Will for two years and he couldn’t see past the librarian glasses and knee-length skirts to the secrets underneath.

But Will had too much confidence in his good looks to give up easily. “I’ll ask again soon,” he warned.

“So you’ve said.”

He winked. “And don’t I keep my promises?”

She shooed him out and he gave her a gracious wave and headed over to the fire station. She supposed she should feel flattered, but he wasn’t truly invested. It felt like a game. Try to talk the shy librarian into a date.

Only she wasn’t as shy as he thought. She was just circumspect. She had to be. Hopefully Will would never know anything about that.

Parents with kids in tow started passing by on the sidewalk, so Sophie packed up the artifacts and locked the glass cabinet. There’d be a rush of children in the library in a few minutes and she wanted to find a great photo for the display and fire up the poster printer while she still had time.

She pasted a smile on her face and walked past the other librarians.

You okay? Lauren mouthed from behind the circulation desk.

Sophie nodded. Why wouldn’t she be? It wasn’t as if she was helping to promote a ceremony that would remind everyone her dad was a cuckold and her mother had abandoned her small children and run off with someone else’s husband.

Sophie forced her smile wider and walked through the library with a bounce in her step.

No, it wasn’t like that at all.

CHAPTER THREE

HE SAW HER again, four hours later, walking down the sidewalk near the center of town as if she’d left his mother’s front yard and never stopped moving. But it was late now and cooler as dusk set in, and she wore a black sweater over that modest green dress.

Alex slowed. He’d gone for a long ride to clear his head, but the clarity had only made him more reluctant to return to his mom’s. She wanted to suck him back into her obsession, and he wanted nothing but distance. Relieved at the prospect of a delay, Alex pulled the bike up next to the redhead and put his boot on the curb.

She stopped and took one step back, uncertainty wrinkling her brow, but at least she didn’t look furious anymore. Alex took off his helmet, just in case she didn’t recognize him with his shaved head covered, but the uncertainty on her face didn’t budge.

“Hey,” he offered as he killed the motor.

“Hello,” she said carefully, as if the weight of the word might change the energy of the air.

“The flyers,” he reminded her. “This afternoon.”

Her chin dipped to let him know that she remembered.

“I wanted to apologize. I gather she’s been bothering you. I can’t say I know anything about it, since I just got into town this morning, but I’m damn clear on how dogged she can be. Do you want me to talk to her?”

She relaxed a little, finally. And he could see more of the real her, now. A mouth that looked naturally happy on a sweet little pixie face. She tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear, but the rest of her pretty red hair was still smooth, twisted into a roll at the base of her neck like something from the 1940s.

She shook her head. “I’ve talked to her plenty of times. Do you think she’d really listen to you?”

“Ha.” He managed a quick smile at that. “No. She doesn’t listen to anyone. Ever. I’m Alex, by the way.” He kicked down the stand and dismounted. “Alex Bishop,” he added, holding out a hand. “I assume you’re a neighbor of my mom’s?”

She blinked a couple of times. Maybe she’d heard of his long absence or maybe she was realizing that he was the crazy woman’s son. But she took his hand and shook it. “I’m Sophie. It’s nice to meet you.”

She looked right up at him now, her brown eyes friendly behind the little black glasses. She was a slight thing, but not short. Five-six, he’d guess, in her delicate black heels, shorter without them. His eyes swept down to admire the little black straps over the arches of her feet. She had a style. He liked it.

“Have you been walking all day in those shoes? I could give you a lift.”

“I’ve been working.”

“The town museum?” he ventured. She certainly didn’t work in one of the bike-rental places or T-shirt shops.

Her laugh skipped over his skin, and he realized he was still holding her hand.

“The museum, huh?” She slipped her hand from his grip, but she did it slowly.

Was this little thing flirting with him? The slide of her fingertips over his palm left him feeling decidedly inclined to flirt back.

“Do I look like I work at a museum, Mr. Bishop?”

He used her question as an excuse to look her up and down again. The little button-down dress kept her all covered up, but the black sweater hugged her narrow waist, emphasizing that there were hips beneath it. Very nice female hips that made the skirt flare out a little. “Yeah. You do. But a museum I’d really love to come visit.”

Yes, she was definitely flirting. Her mouth stretched to a pleased smile. “Really? What about visiting the library? I try not to judge, but you don’t look like the kind of guy who hangs out in libraries too often.”

A librarian? Shit. An honest-to-goodness small-town librarian? Alex had to tamp down the wolfish grin that wanted to take over his face. This girl was adorable. And her gaze was now touching brightly on his bike. She’d probably never been on a motorcycle. Maybe she wanted to find out what it was like.

He quickly checked her ring finger and saw no evidence of commitment. “Want a ride?”

Her eyes sparkled as they moved over the bike again, but she shook her head. “I can’t.”

“Come on. The bike’s nothing to be afraid of.”

Her eyes still roamed over the gleaming chrome frame before they moved right over to him and all the way up his body. She studied his face for a moment, looking straight into his eyes without any shyness at all. Then she sighed with what sounded like genuine regret. “No. I can’t. A strange man inviting me for a ride? What kind of girl do you think I am?”

Damn. Alex had no idea what kind of girl she was...except that she was the kind of girl who said something like that with a tiny smile on her face. Jesus.

“Sophie...” he started, but she shook her head.

“It was a pleasure to meet you.” She slipped her hand into his again and shook it.

“Meet me somewhere for a drink? Dinner? I owe you something to make up for the rest of my family.”

“Oh, you owe me?” One eyebrow arched in an enticing challenge.

“Obviously. I don’t know what she’s done, but you’re clearly fed up. And if you meet me somewhere, you won’t have to worry about getting on the back of a bike with a strange man.”

Her eyes flickered to the bike again. She wanted a ride. Badly.

She closed her eyes and shook her head. “No. People will talk.”

“People will talk?” This girl really was living in a time warp.

“Yes, they’ll...” She seemed to catch herself and crossed her arms, shifting uncomfortably from foot to foot.

Alex ran a hand over his shaved head. “You mean because of how I look? The bike and the tattoos and—?”

“The tattoos?” She looked him over quickly, a flick of the eyes, as if she could see beneath his jacket if she looked hard enough. Hell, all she had to do was ask nicely. But she hadn’t asked. Yet.

He watched her swallow as if her mouth had gone dry. Lust crawled down his belly.

He’d asked her to dinner out of curiosity, but now... Now he really wanted to take this girl out. “We’ll go someplace quiet,” he said, leaning a little closer. “And I promise not to tell.”

She looked away, gazing down the street. He was sure she was about to offer a cool “No,” but then she looked up the street, as well. She wasn’t avoiding his gaze, she was checking to see who was watching.

“I’m meeting my girlfriends for dinner.”

“And after?” he dared, hearing a hint of acquiescence in her voice.

“After,” she murmured, then her eyes rose to meet his. “There’s a big tourist place up the block. The Bucking Bronco.”

“I know it,” he said quickly.

“I’ll meet you for one drink. At the upstairs bar.”

Alex raised an eyebrow. She was serious about not being seen. No local would ever set foot in that overpriced, mediocre tourist trap of a restaurant. “When?”

“Around ten-thirty?” she suggested.

“Sure,” he said, thinking even as he said it that she wouldn’t show. She’d chicken out. And that was fine. Because she couldn’t take away the sight of her cute green skirt swinging around her ass as she walked away.

A little librarian to take his mind off his family and their bullshit. Sometimes life was damn surprising.

CHAPTER FOUR

SHE COULDN’T MEET him. She’d made a terrible mistake agreeing to do it. Her dark, reckless side had pushed her into a stupid impulse. It wanted a ride on that bike, but he was one guy she could never play with, even for a night.

Sophie told herself this even as she smoothed up a nude stocking and clipped it to her garter belt. She’d showered and shaved her legs and picked out a sleeveless black dress with an A-line skirt, all the while assuring herself she wouldn’t see him after dinner. She couldn’t. Alex Bishop obviously didn’t know who she was. If he knew she was Dorothy Heyer’s daughter, he’d never have asked her out.

Then again... He had a glint in his eyes that Sophie recognized. It was familiar because she saw it in the mirror every day. It was a glint that said she wanted to do things. Things she knew she shouldn’t.

She smoothed up the other stocking and clipped it in place before letting the skirt fall.

The black dress was modest. The neckline didn’t show even a hint of cleavage. Everything about her was modest. Everything except the truth.

She brushed her hair out until it shone, then twisted it back into her favorite chignon. She would’ve left it down, but if she went for a ride on his bike, it would stay neat under her helmet this way.

Not that she was going for a ride. She wasn’t even going to see him.

But she kept getting ready, her heart beating hard. This was the real her. The woman who wanted things she shouldn’t have. Things like a big stranger with a shaved head and tattoos she wanted to uncover. A man whose smile was almost as hard as those thighs encased by well-worn denim. Exactly the man she could not be seen with.

“No,” Sophie told herself as her heart beat even harder. No. She couldn’t do it. Yes, he was a virtual stranger. Yes, he was only in town for a few days. Yes, he looked dark and dangerous and he’d seen right away that she wasn’t exactly what she appeared to be.

But no. His identity overruled all of her usual guidelines. There would be nothing logical about a fling with Alex.

She slipped on her black heels with the little bows on the back, then slid bright red lipstick over her lips, loving the way the color bloomed and transformed her average mouth into something wicked and wanton. She pressed her lips together and marveled at the bright shock of color that reappeared when she pouted.

She slipped on her black glasses.

God. It had been so long since she’d been bad. Months since she’d even tried, and that last guy had been so boring once she’d finally gotten him alone.

Alex wouldn’t be boring.

But she couldn’t go.

Then again... She didn’t have his number. It would be rude to simply not show up. She should at least go to the bar after dinner to tell him that this was a mistake.

Of course, if she only told him that, he’d press, just like he had earlier. Come on. It’ll be fun. He’d seen what she really wanted and pushed her to give in to it. Come on. I promise not to tell.

Pleasure shot through her belly at the memory of those wicked words. A few seconds with the guy and he’d already tapped into that naughty streak that had haunted her since high school.

Back then, she’d never indulged it, so it had been easier to ignore. It wasn’t easy to ignore anymore.

So she couldn’t just see him and play coy. She’d have to tell him the truth about who she was. That was the right thing to do.

Nodding to herself, Sophie shrugged on a little black sweater with pearl buttons, then slipped in matching pearl earrings.

Maybe a little too Audrey Hepburn, but with the red lipstick and the bows at the back of her heels, she hoped she’d added a hint of suggestion.

Sophie locked up the tiny house she was staying in and headed down the street. Dinner with the girls was just what she needed. They tried to get together every other Sunday for girls’ night out, but this was an extra treat. Lauren had wanted to try the new French restaurant in town and Isabelle had just finished up a big project that had kept her working late for weeks, so they had a good excuse for a weekday night out.

The restaurant was only four blocks away, so she’d decided not to drive. If she walked, she’d have the perfect excuse to accept a ride later.

Even if—when, she ordered herself—even when she told him who she was, he still might offer a ride home. It’d be very late, after all. And a ride would be a pleasant consolation prize, pressed against his broad back with that black-and-chrome machine between her thighs. That was a hell of a lot more than nothing.

Her heels clicked against the wooden boardwalk when she reached the first touristy block of town. It was cool tonight, but she never minded that. She loved the breeze sneaking over her silk-clad legs. She loved the cool air in her lungs and the scent of turning aspen on the breeze. Fall was her favorite time of year. It felt like the world was holding its breath for something exciting.

She tried to tell herself she wasn’t doing the same thing as she reached the restaurant and glanced up the block to the loud touristy restaurant she’d visit later.

Lauren and Isabelle were already enjoying wine by the time she spotted them and hurried to the table. “Sorry I had to work so late.”

“We’re sorry we had to start without you,” Lauren said with a grin. “You look adorable as usual,” she added as she stood to give Sophie a big hug.

“You, too. And you!” Sophie said as she hugged Isabelle. “You’re alive!”

“Barely,” Isabelle said drily. “Just don’t look at my nails.” She held up her hands to show off her paint-stained cuticles. Sophie didn’t mention the streak of green oil paint on her collarbone. It clashed with the silky red shirt she wore.

She and Lauren had gotten to know Isabelle at the library where she often arranged to borrow expensive books from state universities. Her painting demanded very specific types of research, so she came in fairly often, distracted and color-streaked. She normally wore old jeans and sweaters, so Sophie was surprised to see the deep red flowy blouse she wore tonight. “You look so pretty. Are you wearing heels?” she gasped.

Isabelle stuck out her foot to show off cute black wedge boots. “Ugh. Yes. I’m considering getting laid sometime this decade. My neighbor talked me into ordering these online.”

Lauren rolled her eyes. “You wouldn’t have any trouble getting laid if you left the house more often than once a month.”

“I don’t want to leave the house. I don’t know why a man can’t be delivered along with my art supplies.”

Sophie grinned. “Maybe you could advertise for models.”

“That probably wouldn’t go over well once they realized my specialty. Anatomical paintings sound fun until you realize it’s not a euphemism.”

“It could be,” Lauren insisted, with a tip of her glass. “These snowboarding bums are always looking for a few dollars. And they’re in very, very nice shape.”

Isabelle’s normally serious face got even more serious for a moment. “Hmm.”

Sophie snorted. “Oh, my God, she’s actually thinking about it. Let’s just make clear that Lauren and I would be happy to pose as art students to make this happen.”

“Oh, yeah,” Lauren agreed. “We’d do it for you, Isabelle. Goodness of our hearts and all that.”

“Screw you,” Isabelle said. “You’ve got a naked man to look at any time you want.”

“Hey!” Sophie interrupted, bumping Lauren’s arm. “Didn’t you say your mom was here to visit? Why didn’t you bring her along?”

“She’s in bed already. She said she was tired, but I think she wanted a few hours of alone time to read. She just got an e-reader. She doesn’t want me to tell any of her old librarian associates.”

“Oh, I forgot your mom was a librarian, too. You’re a legacy family!”

Lauren laughed. “I spent half my childhood in the stacks. I couldn’t break free from my fate.”

“Does your mom like Jake?” Sophie asked.

“What’s not to like? He’s a wholesome fire captain!”

“Wholesome, huh?”

Lauren’s wide smile told them everything they needed to know about her new relationship with the fire captain. Sophie tried not to sigh. She didn’t need a serious relationship, but the steady sex would be really nice. She’d never had that. She didn’t know when she ever would. Yeah, she was much more comfortable with sordid, hidden affairs. Funny how those traits could be inherited.

She spent the rest of dinner trying not to think of having a sordid affair with Alex Bishop. The knowledge that she absolutely couldn’t do it made the thought harder to force out of her mind. She was so distracted that her friends didn’t even blink when she made an excuse about being tired and wrapped up their dinner a few minutes earlier than they’d normally have broken up. It was a weeknight, after all.