What the Librarian Did (19 page)

I
T TAKES AWHILE
to believe that the person you started out thinking was all wrong for you is the one you’re meant to be with.

But he was a patient man, her friend, Devin Freedman.

“I’m not going to push this,” he’d said when they had a private moment on board the flight home. “But I’m not going away, either. I’m backing off until you get used to the idea that I love you. Because I’m damned if I’m doing the ‘panic and dump’ scenario you put the last two guys through. We’re friends until you decide you’re ready for more. And by more I mean love, marriage, kids—the whole shebang.”

“And if I can’t?” Because it wasn’t a matter of won’t any longer.

He’d simply smiled at her with all his lazy rock star arrogance. How could he be so confident? So sure of what he wanted? “Oh, and one more thing. Start something with me—a flirtation, anything that crosses the friendship boundary—and I’ll take it as a yes.” He’d leaned closer, so close Rachel felt his body heat, like a faint promise of a long, hot summer. “Because a kiss is not just a kiss, Heartbreaker, it’s a commitment.”

They all settled back into university life. Rachel met Mark’s parents, taking Devin with her and trying not to
think about how much she needed him at her back. She fought for and won an increase in her departmental budget. She got to know her son—relishing the slow, natural growth of his affection. She resumed her Sunday lunches and said no to a tattoo—a present from Trixie on her thirty-fifth birthday. And she regained her equilibrium in a very different world.

A world with family in it, even if she hadn’t approved one of them yet.

She knew she was testing Devin; after all, the man had two failed marriages and a lot of wildness behind him. But over the next three months she came to trust his feelings. And hers.

And still she made him wait.

K
ATHERINE
F
REEDMAN MARRIED
Matthew Bennett on a wet, blustery day at the end of June when the winter whitecaps caused more than one guest arriving by the Waiheke ferry to heave with the boat.

Standing beside Mark, watching Devin and Zander walk their mother to her groom’s side, Rachel’s stomach fluttered nervously. It was a small wedding, only fifty close friends and family, and today she intended to signify her readiness to move from the former into the latter.

Outside, a cold wind shook the bare grapevines in the fields surrounding the mud-brick restaurant. Inside, it was as snug as a hobbit’s burrow.

Tall tapers flickered in candelabras on two oak barrels by the arched window where they were to exchange vows. Tea candles lined the long tables, drawing the eye like landing lights on a runway. Overhead, fairy lights spiraled the rough-hewn beams.

A fire crackled in the stone hearth, roaring back at the weather every time a gust came down the chimney.

In a soft apricot suit, Katherine made a beautiful bride. Her sons had dressed to match the wedding party, in conventional dark suits, but to Rachel’s relief nothing could civilize Devin’s dramatic good looks. His hair would never play nice and the two brothers’ diamond cuff links, diamond ear studs and chunky rings threatened to out-bling the bride’s. Amid the cops that made up many of the groom’s guests, they looked like two elegant thugs waiting for the right moment to pull machine guns out of their guitar cases.

“…to have and to hold,” said Katherine, “to love and to cherish…”

Devin captured Rachel’s gaze. Normally the fire in his eyes was banked, though it always smoldered under the guise of friendship. Today it blazed.

But then she had dressed provocatively. Lifting her chin, she sent back a sweet, innocuous smile, reminding him who was in charge here. With her doubts settled, there was something fun, something dizzyingly, deliciously female in being the object of unrequited desire. In making Mr. Have-Any-Woman-He-Wanted wait.

His eyes glinted. Suddenly hot, Rachel undid some of the buttons of her 1950s Dior brocade swing coat, tempted to take it off.

The color of raspberries, patterned with gold starbursts, the matching sheath underneath had a deep V in the back, which closed to a large flat bow above the curve of her bottom.

“Sexy as hell,” Devin had said when he’d given it to her for her birthday. “But think of the coat like a matador’s cape. Only take it off if you want trouble.”

Okay, she’d deliberately stoked the fires by wearing
this outfit today. But was she ready for this much Toro Bravo? She wavered.

“I now pronounce you man and wife,” intoned the celebrant. The reflected light burnished the smiles of the guests and illuminated the glow of the bridal couple. Matthew kissed his bride with a tenderness that softened Devin’s expression. Taking a deep breath, Rachel reached for the last button.

As the applause and conversation restarted, Mark said beside her, “You next. Devin’s already asked me to be his best man.”

Rachel moved the hand on the button to her hip. “What?”

“When the time comes.”

“I think he’s getting a little ahead of himself,” she said tartly. Maybe she’d make him wait
another
three months.

“I said I’d have to ask you first in case you might, you know—” her son’s shrug couldn’t quite hide his shyness “—like me to walk you down the aisle or something.”

Tears sprang to Rachel’s eyes, the offer was so unexpected, so moving.

Mark grinned. “I guess that’s a yes?”

Blinking hard, she nodded and hugged him. “I’ll keep you posted,” she said gruffly. He felt so good, her son, hugging her back.

Devin joined them. “Can I have one of those, Heartbreaker?”

“A hug or a yes?” said Mark. The innocence of his query suggested a conspiracy.

“Both.”

Releasing her traitorous son, Rachel glared in mock anger. “You said you’d be patient,” she reminded Devin.

“Heartbreaker, you made up your mind weeks ago.” His eyes were very green. “Now you’re playing me.”

“Well, you are fun to play with,” she said reasonably, and escaped to congratulate the bridal couple. Dried lavender strewed the flagstones underfoot, its astringent scent mingling with those of the guests. In future she would always associate the old-fashioned fragrance with an anticipatory thrill.

Katherine and Matthew welcomed her with open arms.

“The celebrant’s here for another half an hour, Rachel,” hinted the bride.

“Why is everyone ganging up on me today?”

“Because I don’t want to be the only normal person in this crazy family,” said Matthew.

“So what number wife would that make you?” teased Zander, who was already hauling off his tie. He still hadn’t entirely forgiven her for the swimming pool incident.

“The last,” said Devin as he joined them with Mark.

Rachel frowned. “Excuse me, but I still haven’t said yes yet.”

“First a cop in the family, now a librarian?” Zander shook his head. “God help my image.”

“Musicians are as much geeks as petrol heads and computer nerds,” retorted Rachel, “but to repeat, I haven’t said yes yet.”

Zander turned to his brother. “You do know she’ll be teaching you big words like
virtuous
and
respectable
.”

“I was working on those anyway,” said Devin. “No, what the librarian’s done is extend my emotional vocabulary.” The teasing left his voice. “Taught me what love means.”

Rachel stared at him. “Oh, you’re not playing fair,” she whispered.

He picked up her hand. “I know where I belong. With you. Now take off the coat, Rachel.”

She dropped his hand, trying not to laugh. “You’re incorrigible.”

“So put me in my place again, Heartbreaker.”

Rachel laid a hand over her heart, palm open, and tapped it gently. Devin’s gaze followed the gesture then lifted swiftly, all the teasing gone.

He kissed her, right there among the guests, and it wasn’t a chaste public kiss but a toe-curling, carnal one that left her disheveled and breathless. They broke apart amid laughter and cheers.

“Let’s get out of here,” he said huskily.

They’d started walking before she came to her senses. “We can’t, we’re at your mother’s wedding.’

“That’s right,” Katherine called across the room. “Mark, go stop the celebrant from leaving.” He tore out.

Rachel’s heart started to pound. “That’s crazy.”

“You can’t stay on the kids’ carousel forever,” said Devin. “It’s time for the roller coaster.”

She could barely breathe for the hammering against her ribs. She wanted to say yes but…Helplessly, she stared at him. “Devin…”

He pulled her aside. “Tell me,” he said gently.

“How do you know this is different…from the others?”

“Those relationships started with a bang—literally—followed by rapid disillusionment. With you, the feelings only get stronger.”

She remembered their first encounter and smiled. “You thought of me as a fossilized conservative—”

“Who transformed not herself, but me,” he said seriously.

Mark returned, panting. “The celebrant’s coming back.”

Devin held out his hand to her, the dragon’s tongue flicking the tip of that one knuckle. Outside, the clouds
broke; rays of sunlight shimmered through the sheets of rain, tinting the bleak gray mist with gold, streaming in the window to burnish his smile, his hair, his eyes. “Be my wife,” he said, “my one true love.”

Rachel shrugged off her coat and handed it to her son, then took Devin’s hand. “Yes.”

Maybe she would get that birthday tattoo Trixie offered. Perhaps a tiny sword-wielding female knight on her rump. It was a joke that Devin would appreciate.