Awakening Beauty. Amy Fetzer J.
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“Hey, is it me you don’t like or the McKay name?”
The McKays. Wealthy, privileged. And he stood here thinking she was a struggling businesswoman. It was on the tip of her tongue to tell him that she knew what life was like with unlimited funds. What it was like to be the talk of not only the town, but on two continents. Giovanni Wines. Suspected Mafia ties of money laundering, her sibling’s picture in the paper with some questionable businessmen. Then there was the sublime thrill of seeing her own face on the cover of a tabloid—and her career as a clothing designer ruined. All because reporter Dan Jacobs had said he loved her when he really only wanted to use her to get an “inside” story on her family. The worst part was that she’d loved him, and he’d used it to betray her.
She stared at the floor, her chest suddenly tight as a drum, as she pushed at the hurt still wedged in her heart. She had closed herself off because people she’d loved had lied. People hurt you, and didn’t care how much if they got what they wanted. People like Dan Jacobs.
Books, on the other hand, never wounded you so hard that you didn’t think you could ever get back up.
Books took you away…
“Miss Douglas?”
She looked up, forcing a smile.
Tyler frowned, wondering where she’d gone just then. “You okay?”
Her expression changed from brooding to falsely cheerful, and all it did was heighten his awareness of her. Which was bordering on overload. She had a regal quality about her, not arrogant, but dignified and sophisticated. And even the librarian clothes and glasses didn’t hide it from him.
“At the risk of sounding redundant, I’m fine.”
Tyler didn’t get the cold shoulder from women often, and he admitted it rattled him. It was suddenly a challenge to get a real smile out of her.
When he continued to stare, she said, “Shouldn’t you be calling a wrecker? Calling your office or your girlfriend?”
No, he thought, no girlfriend, or at least no one steady. Right now, he was having fun doing the love-’em-and-leave-’em-graciously game. Because not so long ago, he’d come damn close to saying “I do” to the wrong woman. A woman who’d wanted the McKay money, but not the man.
It had been two years and though it didn’t hurt anymore, the memory of how blind he’d been still stung. And the sudden flash reminded him that he would never know if a woman wanted him or a key to his family’s fortune.
“No girlfriend to call, thanks for asking. And I called the wrecker when I was talking to the deputy.” He tipped his head a bit and leaned on the counter, closing the space between them. “You’re real hot to get me out of here, aren’t you. Why is that?”
Lane kept right where she was, refusing to back off. It wasn’t a smart move. He smelled wonderful. Warm and spicy. And the brown leather jacket and tan shirt made him look downright yummy. She sucked in a breath that unfortunately brought his scent down deep inside her. “Unlike the idle rich, I have a business to run.”
Her voice was like smoke, low and throaty, and Tyler tried placing her accent. Not Southern for sure, but the region wasn’t definite, and it sounded slightly European sometimes.
“Mr. McKay?”
“Yes?”
“I believe your pocket is ringing.”
He blinked and reached for his cell phone.
“Fan club?” Lane asked.
He winked at her and her insides did a dance she’d almost forgotten. “Hello, Mom, yes, I’m fine.”
Lane smothered a laugh.
“Good grief, how did you hear about this so soon?” A pause and then he said, “Tell Mrs. Ashbury I’m fine. Yes, yes, I will on my way home.” He closed the phone. “I have to give her proof I’m not lying on a stretcher with my head split open.”
“I could accommodate you if you want some sympathy?” She hefted a resin statue of a gnome reading a book, her lips twitching with a smile.
“I’ll pass.” He chuckled and stepped away before she gave in to the urge to bean him. “Send me the bill for the books,” he said as he strode to the door.
“I will.”
“Or better yet, I’ll stop by tomorrow and pick it up.” Tyler somehow knew that would get her riled.
“The U.S. postal system is fine, Mr. McKay. It works for most people.”
Half out the door, Tyler grinned back at her. “I’m not most people, Miss Douglas.”
He shut the door and trotted down the steps, hailing a cab and leaving behind his wrecked car.
And Lane felt as if she’d just been warned. This wasn’t the end for Tyler McKay. And that, for her, was dangerous.
Two
Tyler leaned against the kitchen counter in his parents’ house and bit into a sandwich. Since the accident hadn’t left him bleeding on the side of the road, his mom allowed him to snitch it from her kitchen.
Good thing, because his own fridge didn’t have anything in it that wasn’t growing fuzz. He really should remember to shop and then actually stay home long enough to eat it.
“I can’t believe that you haven’t been in that bookstore before today.” His mother poured herself some hot tea.
“Have you?”
“Once, with Diana.”
His mother and her friend Diana Ashbury had known each other since they were in high school and were as close now as they’d been then. Tyler had grown up with Diana’s children and her son, Jace, was a good friend of his.
“So…what did you think of the owner. Diana shops there all the time. She adores Miss Douglas.”
“Adores?” Tyler almost choked on a sip of soda. He couldn’t imagine anyone adoring the Lane he knew. The woman was witty, yes, but she was very cool. And she had eyes that said, “Don’t even think about it,” and that just made him want to think about it.
“Oh, yes, Di says she can find any book and doesn’t charge extra for getting it.”
That was good business sense and Tyler appreciated that. Too bad Lane didn’t spend more effort on charm. Then again, maybe it was just him she didn’t like. “She isn’t participating in the Winter Festival.”
His mother looked up from stirring her tea. “Oh? How come?”
Tyler finished off the sandwich, and when he grabbed a dish towel to wipe his mouth, his mother tossed him a napkin and muttered, “I swear, Tyler McKay, your manners are terrible sometimes. I know I taught you better.”