Page 28 of Sundowners
“Yes, Mr. San Angelo, I’ll call her first thing Monday morning. Nothing I can do until then. Enjoy the rest of your weekend.”
Chelsea Beckett saw me sitting there, and her irritation left her.
“Mr. Lowell. Did I miss you inside? I apologize, I was away from my desk helping Mr. San Angelo.”
The head librarian pursed her lips, tossed her hair and her eyebrows raised in a quick come-hither move she’d used on me many times. Only once did I succumb, and that’s because I was particularly needy and it was too cold outside to linger and wait for a less-invasive opportunity for an energy exchange.
Roman’s brow furrowed as he looked between us.
“No, ma’am,” I said, pouring on all the Georgia sunshine I could muster. “I was waiting for Professor San Angelo.”
“You know, technically,” he said as he descended the steps, “I’m not a full professor until I complete and defend my dissertation. Your use of the title could be considered bad luck.”
Chelsea gave me a finger wave and let down her hair from the large clip at the back of her head. “Goodbye, Creed.”
“Until we meet again,” I said, bending low in a formal bow.Again meaning only if I’m on my last breath and require sustenance.
“How do you know her? And why does it look like you’ve had carnal knowledge of the sweet and stuffy librarian?”
I sighed as I turned to face Roman. He remained two steps above where I stood, probably to feel he had a height advantage.
“Chelsea is sixty years old by my calculations, and is much more willing to assist with research if you treat her like the beautiful, irresistible woman she once was and wishes she still could be.”
“How do you—”
“Roman, do I not work with elderly women for a living?”
“Well yeah. I better never see you act like that around my lola.”
I smirked at him. “Why not? If it makes her feel better? If it gives her a thrill to have the attention of a much younger—”
“Gay man. One might consider your behavior opportunistic. Do you use this act to get them to rewrite their wills, maybe?”
“Not intentionally, but it’s happened.”
Roman squared off with him. “What? They’ve changed their wills? To leave you piles of money?”
Oh, yes, Professor. Your anger is delectable. “Professor San Angelo, are you accusing me of impropriety?”
“If the scrubs fit.”
We stared at each other, and I had to fight not to moan at the rush I was getting from his aggressive behavior.
“Roman, I won’t lie and say I’ve never received a gift. But every item, every penny, was documented by my superiors, and then donated to the Alzheimer’s Society.” I shifted my weight and rested a foot on the step below him, keeping my hands at my side.
He frowned for a moment, and then stepped down so we were eye to eye.
“That was out of line. I’m sorry. You’ve done nothing but be nice to me and take great care of my grandmother and her sisters. I don’t know where that came from.”
I stepped closer to him, tugging on the front of his track jacket, which hung open over a tight knit shirt.“You have every right to be concerned. And I’m afraid I’ve been pushing your buttons. It’s me who owes the apology.” Just because he didn’t know exactlyhowI’d been getting under his skin didn’t mean I owed him any less.
Roman looked down at my hand and smiled, the aggression running out of him like an untied balloon. “Youdopush my buttons. What’s that about? I find myself wondering why it is that I let you get to me.”
I pulled him closer, running my knuckles over his tight abs. “Because I’m charming?”
I wanted to kiss him. I wanted to finish what we’d started last night. He wanted it too. And we were standing in the overcast afternoon sky in front of the now-deserted library with no one around.
“Or because I’m a masochist.”
