Page 77 of Love in the Stacks
“What do you mean?” he asks.
“Dr. Parker,” I say. “Did you know he was going to support us?”
“I didn’t realize he’d be at the meeting, but I’m not surprised.”
“How do you know him, anyway?”
“Well, we’re sort of friends,” Adam says tentatively.
“Friends?” I ask dubiously.
“Yeah. We started talking about his dog one day, and now we talk all the time.” He shrugs. “He kind of reminds me of my dad.”
I raise my eyebrows. “And you talk to him about me?”
Adam smiles, brushing hair off my face. “He’s given me some advice along the way.”
“Good advice?”
“Very good, based on the outcome.” And then, despite his usual no-PDA-at-work rule, Adam leans forward and kisses me softly on the mouth. Testing the boundaries of his good mood, I wrap my arms around his neck, pulling him closer and deepening the kiss. Rather than pull away, which I half expect, his arms encircle my waist and pull me flush against him. Minutes pass that could be hours. Finally, I break the kiss.
Resting my head against his chest, I sigh, “I love you.”
“I love you, too,” he says.
I reach up to give him another peck and then tease, “Look at you! One victory and you become an office floozy. I never thought I’d see the day.”
Adam chuckles and shakes his head. “Your fault,” he says. “I’d do pretty much anything for you.”
Epilogue
Six Months Later
It’s mid-December, and the lights glow once again in the trees and on buildings around downtown St. Anastasia. I have a special date planned for Nicole tonight and though December weather in north Florida can be wildly inconsistent—anywhere from fifty to eighty degrees—I’m pleased that tonight should be on the cool side. Enough to give the air a more Christmassy vibe and allow me to feel cozy rather than sweltering while walking around outside in a sweater.
We spent Thanksgiving in Texas a couple of weeks ago. I met Olivia, the only member of Nicole’s family I hadn’t yet. Mrs. Delaney—Amy—was so thrilled to have everyone together (including a surprise guest that added quite a bit of drama to the family dynamics, but that’s a story for another day) that she had Mr.Delaney—Ben—put the Christmas tree up early, and we all decorated it together. Nicole loved being with her family, and I loved being there with her, seeing where she grew up and teasing her about her untouched childhood bedroom.
Now Parker Library is officially closed for the holidays, and we don’t have to be back at work until January. Nicole and I will be driving down to Naples together to spend Christmas with my mom, and then flying to Texas just after Christmas to see her family for a few days. Other than that, we’re both staying around town and spending our free time together.
So, to start our winter break off with a bang, we have this special date tonight. I drive to Nicole’s apartment and arrive promptly at six o’clock. Before getting out of the car, I wipe my palms against the jeans I’m wearing. Despite the cool air and how comfortable I am in a dark gray shawl collar sweater with a blue T-shirt underneath, my hands are damp. I reach up and fidget with my glasses, and then absently pat my pocket through the jeans.
I bounce up the steps and knock on Nicole’s door. As usual, it takes her a minute to open the door, and even then, my view is of the back of her head as she walks away from me toward her bedroom.
“Give me just a couple more minutes,” she says. “I’m almost ready to go.”
“Wear something nice, but warm,” I call after her. “We’re going to be outside.”
“Got it!” I hear from behind her closed door.
I grin and settle onto the couch. I run through the plan for tonight. Dinner first. Then browsing down Cannon Street, includinghot chocolate. And then a walk by the waterfront. Sounds simple, but I’m more nervous about this date than I have probably ever been before about anything. Except public speaking. Still not on my list of favorites. I pat my thigh again, feeling the hard metal of the ring in my pocket.
Nicole steps out of her room just then, and I stand, practically leaving my jaw behind. Nicole’s dressed in a deep red, long-sleeved sweater dress that looks like it wraps around her in a complicated way, tied with a sash. The dress hits just above her knees and stretches tight around the curves of her hips. On her feet, she wears dark brown leather boots that stretch all the way up to her knees. In between the boots and dress, I catch the slightest glimpse of black tights. She cut her hair short—she says it’s called a pixie cut—just before Thanksgiving in an effort to return it to its natural blonde color, at least for now. I’ve already seen her scrolling through colorful styles on her phone, so we’ll see how long the blonde lasts. Tonight, her hair looks ruffled in a soft way that makes me want to run my fingers through the strands.
My gaze finally lands on her face which is watching me with a smirk.
“Close your mouth,” she says.
I snap my jaw closed, and then open it again to say, “You look gorgeous. I mean … wow.”
