Page 8 of Where You're Planted

“Doesn’t mean he knows the first thing about what goes on here. Your little stunt at our reopening, hijacking our news coverage and putting him on the spot, just backed him into a promise he couldn’t keep.”

Hijackingwas a strong word. Tansy had merely intercepted some of the visitors in the parking lot until the middle of the commissioner’s big speech at the ribbon-cutting ceremony andallowedtheir voices, chanting the line she’d supplied, to be heard as they marched into the park. And then, after the commissioner had explicitly asked if she had something to say,invitingher up to the microphone, she’d made her case for reopening her library, challenging him to prove the county valued books and essential library services as much as they valued a bunch of flowers and trees.

“So,” Marianne asked, her mousy voice even mousier, “wedon’thave a building?”

The second guy came closer, concern knitting his brows. “Uh, do you need a hand?” He jogged over to help Kai, quickly extracting them from the door and then kneeling to survey the bloody scrape down their shin bone with a sympathetic hiss.

Jack frowned, distracted but not visibly concerned by the wound. “Now I’m gonna have to fix this door. Got a hundred more important things to do.”

“Well,” Tansy said defensively, “we might not have tried to get in if someone had met us on time.”

“Eight sharp,” he said. “You weren’t here, and I had otherthings to do. Still do. So if you’re finished kicking in doors, could we get on with it?”

“Get on with what?”

Clutching his hips and shaking his head at the gray sky, he blew out a deeply aggrieved sigh. His shaggy hair caught on his collar. Half-moons of dirt caked his nails.

Rugged.Not handsome, but definitely hot.

If you were into scraggly beards and terrible attitudes, which Tansy absolutely wasn’t. Her gaze snagged longer than she liked, though, when that little carpenter muscle near his elbow flexed. Damn it.

Jack sniffed then asked tightly, “You want to see your building or not?” Without another word, he marched down a path that was partially washed out and marked off with yellow caution tape.

When they passed Irma around the back of the building, Tansy discovered what she’d hollered for them to come see. The back half of the roof was caved in under the weight of a massive tree.

—

“You can’t be serious,” Tansyhuffed five minutes later.

Jack’s shoulders lifted, as if he didn’t see the problem.

Orproblems.

“This is ashed. Attached to a public bathroom.”

He casually checked his watch. “It’s got a roof, walls, a window.”

“Thiswindow?” Tansy snapped, yanking open the door, which had one tiny square windowpane. A glorified peephole.

Oh, but it got worse. Inside, the cement floor was cakedwith sludge and rotting leaves. The pungent smell that wafted out the door indicated that somethingelsewas rotting in there, too. Everyone groaned and covered their noses.

Except for Jack. His nostrils flared, but otherwise, he refused to acknowledge the unholy stench they’d just released.

“Yikes,” Marianne piped up.

If ever there was a time for a full-throated swear word, this was it.

“You can use the tools in there for cleanup,” Jack said, nodding at rusty old shovels hanging on the back wall. He crushed his water bottle and shoved it into his back pocket. “I’ll get you your keys at the meeting later.”

“That’s it? ‘Here’s yourshed. See ya later’?” Tansy pushed into his personal space, only to realize he was a full head taller and hardly intimidated by her talking to the notch of his Adam’s apple. She lifted her chin anyway, desperate for one more inch, and cut him off before he could say something infuriating, likeCalm down. “This is a biohazard! We can’t put books in here, let alonepeople. Not that either will fit. What is this, eight by eight feet? Is there even electricity?”

His jaw clenched, but instead of arguing, he scuffed back a step. Because hehadno argument. He couldn’t honestly think this was an acceptable option.

She crowded him again, intending to say more about the mud pit and the caution tape, but wind caught her hair and the opening of her wrap skirt, whipping both around her erratically. Jack jolted back as she bent to snatch her skirt closed. She was exposing more thigh than anyone needed to see before nine a.m. Which never would have been a problem in a climate-controlled building.

When she straightened, he was already walking away, hands clenching and unclenching at his sides.

The younger guy offered an apologetic smile, ducking out from under Kai’s arm, where he’d been bracing them. “There is electricity,” he said, “and a pressure washer in the greenhouse. I can bring it by later if y’all want it.” He had to jog to catch up with Jack.

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