Callan Avery will be hosting an open house on Tuesday evening with extended hours for anybody who is interested in learning how you can get ebooks and audiobooks through the library for free! Whether you already use an ebook reader or you want to learn more about them, the library is here to serve you, and if you stop by the library between 4:00 and
7:00 p.m., Mr. Avery will help you out!
—Stonefield Gazette Facebook Page
Molly tapped her pen on the pad of sticky notes, trying to decide which three things from her notebook she had to accomplish today. Nothing particularly urgent jumped out at her, which meant sifting through pages of things she had to do when she got a chance.
Today, she had a chance. Nothing urgent required her attention. Everything was under control as far as the funeral home went, other than needing to flip through some of the industry publications her father subscribed to in order to keep on top of any conventions or continuing education events he might want to attend.
Her mind didn’t want to focus on things to do, though. Her brain was definitely more focused on a person to do.
Callan Avery was the only thing she wanted to think about at any given time, and it was becoming a problem. They’d been fake dating for three weeks now and she supposed their pretense was probably a success. They were seen in public because they’d meet at the café, she popped into the library frequently and he’d hang out at the taproom when she was there. The community was coming to like him. Neither of them had been caught making out with anybody else.
They were great at fake dating.
So great at it, as a matter of fact, that Molly was starting to feel as if she really had a boyfriend. But he was a boyfriend who didn’t kiss her. Or try to sneak second base. Or third. She’d never been able to figure out exactly which body parts corresponded with which stolen bases, but she knew she was in the mood for Callan to hit a home run.
None of that could be written on her sticky note, of course. One, because she only put things on her to-do sticky that were in her sole power to complete. Maybe send Callan stronger signals was an action task, but she wasn’t sure how to do that.
And two, sometimes sticky notes came unstuck from notebooks and stuck on pants or handbags, only to fall off in the street or her parents’ kitchen. She might want Stonefield talking about her and Callan as a couple, but she didn’t need invite Callan to round my bases to be conversation around the town’s dinner tables.
With a growl of frustration—mostly sexual frustration with a side of being annoyed with herself—Molly tossed the sticky note pad back in the basket and closed her notebook. It was going to be a low executive function day after a restless night, and she gave herself permission to just roll with it today.
Her first stop was the Perkin’ Up Café because Chelsea was one of her favorite people when she wasn’t punishing her with plain decaf coffee. She was almost to the door, thinking about what she wanted to order, when she came to an abrupt stop.
Something was happening in the storefront next to Chelsea’s, which had recently been emptied. It had been an insurance office until it closed down because the husband and wife who’d run it wanted to retire and, since most people handled things like that online these days, they didn’t bother trying to sell it.
But now the huge windows on either side of the door were covered with newspaper, all hodgepodge with what looked like hundreds of pieces of masking tape. Somebody really didn’t want anybody peeking inside.
Molly loved a mystery.
Unfortunately this was a mystery that wasn’t offering her any clues. Maybe if she walked by at night and the lights were on inside, she’d be able to see shadows through the newsprint, but for now there was nothing to do but keep walking.
She’d spent long enough being frustrated by her to-do list situation that she’d missed the morning rush. That meant she’d missed Callan, which wasn’t awesome, but it also meant Chelsea was the only person in the café.
“What’s with the newspaper in the windows next door?” she asked after ordering a creamy caramel mocha.
Chelsea shrugged. “I don’t know. Whoever did it must have done it overnight, though. It wasn’t there when I drove by last night, but it was all done when I came in to open.”
Since the Perkin’ Up Café opened at dark o’clock, Molly shuddered. She was so not a morning person, though she kept trying to force herself to be, since it seemed like everybody in her life went to bed by eleven and was up with the sun. Left to her own devices, she’d rather be up until two in the morning, and then sleep until nine or ten. Her parents had never been on board with that plan, though, and they were not only her parents but her employers and her landlords. She could only push things so far because unofficially working at the taproom when she was in the mood wasn’t going to pay rent if they got fed up and threw her out.
“I haven’t heard about anybody in Stonefield starting a business, though. What do you think’s going in there?” she asked, her mind starting to cough up possibilities.
“I don’t know, but I hope it’s a business that attracts a lot of caffeine-starved foot traffic.”
Maybe it’s a sex shop.”
Chelsea snorted. “In this town? Unlikely.”
“Maybe that’s why there’s newspaper on the windows.”
“I doubt the newspaper’s permanent. And do you really think a town that’s forcing a single librarian to have a fake girlfriend in order to keep his job is going to allow a sex shop right on the main street?”
“Good point. Although, some of the people on the zoning board are also on the library committee, so they might have tried to sneak it by. Or maybe it’s a tattoo parlor.”
“I can’t decide if that’s more or less likely than a sex shop.”
“Stonefield needs some shaking up.”
“Let them get fully accustomed to having a librarian who has a penis before you ask them to let somebody sell fake ones.”
Molly laughed. “You know what we need in this town? A psychic. Or a stationery store. Or maybe somebody who’s really good at nail art.”
“If Stonefield ever gets a strip mall, I hope they let you pick all the stores.”
“Maybe I should run for a seat on the planning committee.”
Chelsea arched her eyebrow. “That sounds fun. Monthly meetings. Agendas. Paperwork.”
“Or maybe not. I’m bored today, but not that bored.”
“Speaking of things you get up to when you’re bored, how are things going with your fake boyfriend?”
Molly wrinkled her nose. She didn’t want to tell her friends how things were going—that the fake part was going so swell, she wanted it to be real. Their total lack of surprise that one of her impromptu plans had gone awry again would be annoying.
“Good,” she said.
A group of women entered, probably moms who’d dropped their kids off at school, which put an end to talking about Callan. A half hour later, still bored and now hopped up on caffeine and sugar, Molly left to find something else to do.
She ended up spending most of the day at Evie’s house, playing with the baby while they brainstormed content for the brewery’s social media accounts. Becca was just shy of four months old now, and Molly was amazed by how fast babies changed, even if it had only been days since she’d seen her.
Now that Mallory’s boys were older, she was glad there was a new round of babies because she adored them. She’d never have her own because she wouldn’t wish her brain chemistry on anyone, but she loved the Sutton kids like a real auntie.
Despite the distraction of the cutest baby girl ever born, they managed to come up with a list of photo ideas to stage in the taproom, as well as a few event ideas to run by the rest of the family.
Molly was on her way home from Sutton’s Seconds, where she’d been hoping to score some cute summer tops before it got hot and everybody wanted one, when she passed the library. She’d never seen the parking lot so full, and it took her a moment to remember Callan was hosting an open house about digital reading tonight.
He could probably use some help. And by Stonefield standards, Molly would probably be considered an early adopter, and she knew quite a bit about ebooks. She could help, plus there were a lot of people in the library, so it was a perfect opportunity to show off what a devoted girlfriend Callan had.
The relief in his eyes when he saw her was so obvious, she had to laugh. He clearly hadn’t expected this kind of turnout, and he’d made some impressively informative poster board displays, but the patrons were looking for one-on-one help. She set her bags behind the circulation desk, since being the librarian’s girlfriend probably came with permission to be back there, and asked the closest patron how she could help.
“My daughter bought me this phone the last time she came to visit,” Mrs. Brown told her. “She put this app on it so I can listen to my murder mysteries while I knit, and I can figure out how to stop and start it, but I don’t know how to put another book on it. I’ve listened to the murder mysteries she put on it five times and no matter how much wine I have with my dinner, I still remember whodunnit.”
“I’m familiar with that app, so I can help you.”
“I have my password written down in my purse, but you better not tell anybody what it is.”
“I would never, Mrs. Brown.”
As she passed behind Mrs. Brown, Molly gave Callan a smile, which he returned. They made a good team, she thought, and judging by the comments she overheard over the course of the open house, she wasn’t alone. Everybody was buying their relationship status, and his popularity with library patrons was definitely on the rise. It wouldn’t be long before a voice against him based on ignorance would be drowned out by his supporters.
She’d have mixed feelings when that day came. It would mean her impulsive plan had been successful, which rarely happened. She wouldn’t mind the win. On the other hand, it would also mean Callan didn’t need a fake girlfriend anymore. But she didn’t need to worry about that right now, since she had him at least until Gwen’s wedding since he had to be her plus-one. She had another two and a half weeks.
When the last patron was gone, Callan leaned against the circulation desk and his body sagged slightly as he exhaled slowly. “I didn’t expect that many people to show up. If you hadn’t jumped in, I would have been here until midnight.”
“I think that’s the most people I’ve ever seen in the library at one time, so congratulations, Mr. Avery.”
“Thank you. I got to renew some expired cards for people who didn’t realize they could still use the library even if they wanted to read ebooks. And I issued some new ones, so I think it was a raging success. I should buy you dinner to thank you for your help.”
Molly was pretty sure her entire body flushed with heat, and she really hoped it didn’t show in her face. “The diner makes great burgers. Their fries are good, too.”
He smiled, his eyes warm. “I could go for a burger.”
They walked hand in hand from the library to the diner. It just kind of happened. He’d locked up and they started walking. Their hands brushed and then their fingers were interlocked. Apparently, deception came easier to him than he’d expected because nothing felt more natural to him than holding Molly’s hand.
Lately he’d been wondering during what kind of public situations a man might be expected to kiss his girlfriend. If he could figure that out, he might actually find a way to kiss her. Finally.
It couldn’t be the library. That was his place of work and it just wouldn’t sit right. And the taproom was out because most of the people who’d be paying attention there knew they weren’t a real couple.
Walking her home and kissing her good-night was a possibility. It was a residential neighborhood and anybody sitting on their front porch or glancing out a window would probably think it odd if he didn’t kiss her. But he wasn’t sure he wanted to kiss Molly for the first time with one or both of her parents watching from behind a curtain. It had been hard enough keeping up the pretense through the four family dinners he’d been invited to so far. He didn’t want to make it worse by adding kissing into the mix. The more they believed he was the one their daughter had a future with, the worse he was going to feel facing them when he and Molly ended their relationship.
There were still two and a half weeks until Gwen and Case’s wedding, but he knew they’d have to have a conversation about how and when to end things eventually. But probably not before he kissed her.
Maybe when they parted ways after a morning meetup at the Perkin’ Up Café. There were always enough people around to merit a performance. And a have a good day, honey kiss would be perfectly normal.
“You’re quiet tonight,” Molly said, squeezing her hand. “What are you thinking about?”
He wasn’t going to risk ruining their dinner—it might technically be their first date outside of the taproom—by confessing he was trying to find a within-the-rules way of kissing his fake girlfriend.
“Just tired, I guess. I stay up on all the latest technology and advances in accessibility, but actually walking patrons through the steps was a lot more exhausting than I thought it would be.”
She was laughing when he had to let go of her hand to pull open the door to the diner. “If it makes you feel any better, I don’t think anybody could tell.”
The diner wasn’t very busy since this wasn’t the big city and most people had already eaten. Plus, it was a weeknight. As far as he could tell, the diner made most of their money on Friday nights with the all-you-can-eat fish fry and with Sunday-morning breakfast.
Molly led him to a booth that was in view of everybody, but far enough from the few other diners so they’d be able to talk privately if they kept their voices down.
“I guess it’s too late for coffee,” she said as she slid onto the seat. “And I can see what’s left of the decaf from here and it looks like that pot’s been sitting awhile. I guess I’ll have to have water, which is so boring.”
“There’s always soda. They have some that are caffeine-free.”
“The sugar, though.” She laughed. “I never drink soda because the sugar wreaks havoc on my brain. If I had one right now, I’d be going door-to-door at 2:00 a.m., looking for somebody to go on adventures with me.”
He wouldn’t mind her knocking on his door at two in the morning looking for an adventure, but he kept that to himself. And when the server arrived, he ordered an ice water for each of them. They both asked for burgers and fries without even looking at the menus.
“Just so you know,” Molly said when they were alone again, “if you start rewarding me coming to the library with cheeseburgers, you’ll never get rid of me.”
“A cheeseburger is a small price to pay for you helping out me out. You’re doing a lot of work just to get a plus-one for a friend’s wedding.”
“Sometimes it’s nice to not be the third wheel. Or the seventh wheel, as the case may be. And you’ll look really good standing next to me in the reception photos.”
“I’ll try not to look like a startled deer.”
“Evie had run off to Arizona because she and Lane broke up—again—and she didn’t know she was pregnant, so she attended Mallory’s wedding by video chat. Maybe Rome can be there virtually and distract you every time somebody’s going to take a picture.”
“I bet it would amuse the hell out of him to get an invitation to virtually attend his best friend’s fake girlfriend’s best friend’s older sister’s wedding.”
She laughed. “That’s quite a mouthful.”
“I’m surprised you don’t have guys lined up for the chance to be your plus-one, though.”
The amusement was gone from her expression in the blink of an eye, replaced by what looked like sadness and frustration. “I don’t have a lot of luck dating, actually.”
Callan found that hard to believe. Molly was gorgeous and smart and funny, and if she was really his, he would fight any man who tried to take her from him. He’d probably lose because he’d never actually been in a fight, but he’d put in one hell of an effort.
Molly laughed. “You should see your face right now. It’s pretty flattering, to be honest.”
“Maybe there’s something in the water, because there is something seriously wrong with the men in this town.” He chuckled. “Not that I’m complaining, of course. Our situation would be a lot more complicated if some other guy had been smart enough to be your date to the wedding.”
“It’s not really their fault, though. Guys have tried, but I’m a lot and it’s always just a matter of time before I go from a lot to too much.” She said the words flippantly enough, but Callan could hear the pain in her voice, and he could see it in her eyes.
“I’m glad you don’t make yourself smaller to fit into anybody else’s idea of what you should be,” he said, and her cheeks flushed. Her eyes also looked a little damp, though, and he didn’t want her to cry so it was time to bring the conversation back to light and easy. “And not just because I would have missed out on a free dinner at Case and Gwen’s wedding.”
Amusement chased the shadows from her eyes. “And cake! Mallory went to the cake tasting with Gwen and she said if we fill up on wedding chicken before the cake is cut, we’ll be very, very sorry.”
“Is it carrot cake?” He was pretty sure that was a popular wedding cake in New England, but he wasn’t sure.
Her nose wrinkled. “I hope not. Mal wouldn’t tell me because Gwen wants it to be a surprise, but I am very opposed to vegetables in my desserts.”
“Same,” he said, and she clinked her water glass against his before taking a sip.
Molly continued talking about the wedding—apparently finding the perfect dress for the pregnant and picky matron of honor had been quite an ordeal—and Callan was content to sit back and listen. Wedding details weren’t something he’d ordinarily be interested in, but he loved watching Molly talk about things that excited her.
Her hands were almost as animated as her facial expressions and he feared for her water glass a few times. She felt things on a magnified scale, he’d noticed. She didn’t just like something. It was the best thing ever. On the flip side, things that others might shrug off as inconsequential cut her deeply. For Callan, who’d gone through life on a fairly even keel—except for the dark times surrounding losing his mother—it was definitely a different energy.
Just a matter of time before I go from a lot to too much.
“So that’s why you can’t wear bright or primary colors to the wedding.”
He realized he’d missed something, but he didn’t want her thinking he was uninterested. The problem had been the exact opposite. “Is there a particular color you’d like for me to wear?”
She thought about it for a few seconds, tilting her head. “What color is your suit?”
“I have several. Black, dark gray, and navy.”
“The navy one, but the tie will be harder. You might have to send me pictures of your ties so I can look at them with my dress.”
“I’ll do that.”
“Okay, enough wedding talk,” she said with a wave of her hand. “How is the remodeling going?”
“Slowly,” he admitted. “I’m trying not to make too much of a mess in multiple parts of the house at the same time, but it’s an old structure and one thing to work on keeps leading to two more things that need to be done to finish it.”
They talked about the renovation as they finished their dinner, and he promised to consider her notebook and sticky note method of prioritizing things around the house. He paid the bill and he unconsciously rested his hand at the small of Molly’s back as they walked through the diner.
There was a family eating ice cream in a booth near the door, and Callan recognized the man as one who’d been very unhappy to realize the man behind the circulation desk was the new librarian. His gaze bounced between Molly and Callan. Then the man gave him a friendly nod and went back to ice cream.
Callan tamped down the annoyance. That the man’s acceptance of him in a professional capacity had been changed by being in a relationship with Molly was still one of the most ludicrous things he’d ever encountered. But he was having a nice time, so he chose to focus on the fact the ruse appeared to be working.
They held hands on the walk home, and Callan could feel his anxiety rising as they reached the corner of their street. He wasn’t going to know a second’s peace until he’d kissed this woman, and he couldn’t face another sleepless night. He’d actually gotten the alphabet wrong while shelving fiction returns today.
When they reached the spot where they’d go separate directions—her up the drive to the garage and him past the fence to his walkway—he squeezed her hand and she looked up at him.
“I should walk you to your door,” he said. “We wouldn’t want the neighborhood to think I’m a bad boyfriend.”
“We definitely don’t want that.”
But when they reached the access door to the side of the big overhead doors, he didn’t let go of her hand. Even though they’d established people might be watching and they should act like a real couple, he wasn’t sure how to transition to kissing her. Maybe she didn’t want to take the ruse that far and he didn’t want to overstep, or put her in the awkward position of not knowing how to say no.
Then she gave him a naughty-looking smile and stepped closer, tilting her head back. “I would never be in a relationship with a guy who doesn’t want to kiss me good-night after a date.”
That was all the invitation Callan needed. His mouth claimed hers with such intensity, nobody who happened to see it would doubt that he was very into Molly. As his tongue dipped between her lips, he worried it was too much, but she had her arms around his neck and she wasn’t letting go.
Then she made the sweetest moaning sound against his mouth and Callan knew he had to stop. He didn’t want to, but after a few more delicious seconds, he broke the kiss off and put some space between their bodies. She looked as flushed as he felt as her arms fell to her side and their gazes locked.
If this was real, she’d probably take his hand and lead him up those stairs. Or they’d pass by the fence and head for his bed. But it wasn’t, and the performance was over for now.
“Good night, Molly.”
“Good night.” Her smile was tinged with sadness and for a few seconds he thought maybe they could go up those stairs. This chemistry between them wasn’t fake at all. “Thank you for dinner.”
There was nothing else he could say because, like it or not—and he did not like it—she’d offered to pretend to be his girlfriend and nothing more. And he couldn’t be sure his own need wasn’t making him misread her signals. So he nodded and then, with a heaviness settling in his chest, turned and walked back to the sidewalk to continue past the fence and up his walk. Alone.