Everybody Knows (Sunnyside #1) (4 page)

She relinquished it with easy grace. “Ready if you
are.”

“Hang on a sec.” He leaned against his truck and
made the call to Rachel.

While he negotiated terms with his sister, Harper
picked up the ball cap he’d lost when launching himself off the porch on his
rescue mission and brought it over to him. He slid it back into place, and she
wandered down the driveway to the backyard and then over to the garage. The
oddest things seemed to catch her attention. She stopped to peer into windows,
tilted up the bird feeder, and leaned in to take a whiff of every blooming
plant she passed.

“This smells heavenly,” she said when he strolled
up to her. She pointed to the yellow flowers creeping over the fence in the
back.

“It’s honeysuckle, so it’s basically a weed.” To
keep her from falling and breaking her neck in those ridiculous shoes—he cast
them a sidelong glance and yep, they were hot as firecrackers, but still,
ridiculous for the occasion—on the uneven lawn, he took her arm. He guided her
toward the alley that divided the Oakley Street back yards from the houses
behind it on Willow.

“Growing wild doesn’t keep it from smelling good.”
She picked a blossom and inhaled deeply. “Is the garage mine to use?”

“Once the renovations are done, it’ll be all
yours.”

“I can’t believe I’ll have my own garage.” She
practically shivered with delight over a structure Zach would classify as only
slightly more substantial than a chicken coop.

“It’ll protect your nice car from bad weather.”

“It’s fabulous.” She followed his lead as they cut
through Rachel’s yard and stopped at the back stoop. “I guess your sister said
she didn’t mind if I use her house.”

“She’s fine with it.”

“Just like that?” Harper raised an eyebrow. “She’s
willing to let a complete stranger stay at her place with no questions asked?”

“She asked plenty of questions and said I’d owe
her big time. But in the end, she agreed.”

“What if I steal her jewelry and trash her
furniture?”

“We’ll bill the library grant for any damage and
get reimbursed by Big Bucks Berkman. But if you think Rachel has any jewelry
worth stealing or any furniture you could harm in anyway short of setting it on
fire, you really are going to be disappointed.”

Giving him an inscrutable look, she nodded toward
the door. “Do you have a key or is it unlocked?”

“There’s a key you can use while you’re staying
here, if it will make you feel better. But Rachel leaves it unlocked. If you
hear someone rummaging around the kitchen in the morning, it will probably be
our neighbor coming to feed the cat.” When she looked suspicious, he added,
“Just one cat. Honest. But it’s a pretty ornery one.”

Pushing open the back door, he stepped into the
kitchen, which was a work in progress. His sister had been refinishing the
upper cabinets before she left. The doors were lined up against a wall,
exposing dishes and canned goods on the open shelves. “I should have warned you
about the mess. She’s fixing the place up but doesn’t have much spare time. Or
money.”

Harper gazed around the room. “She’s doing an
amazing job.”

“The main bedroom is through there.” As he turned
to lead the way, he spotted Rachel’s Siamese, Cleo, draped in her favorite spot
across the back of the chair in the front window. The animal would only deign
to approach him when she was damn good and ready. “The house has four rooms on
this level with two rooms up. Rachel said to sleep wherever you like, but her
bedroom on this floor is the best bet. You’ll find clean sheets in the linen closet
across from the bathroom, right through there.”

“Speaking of bathrooms... Excuse me for a minute.”

The second Harper exited, the cat haughtily
approached Zach, pretending indifference. Zach checked out Cleo’s bowls. “Don’t
look at me to feed you. Your bowls are full, so Kate’s already been here
today.”

Ignoring the Siamese’s beseeching expression, Zach
turned to check the food situation for humans. Rachel had mentioned there
wouldn’t be anything more interesting than Fancy Feast in her cabinets and milk
in her fridge, and she hadn’t been kidding. But he doubted if Harper would do
much cooking anyway. She didn’t even look as domesticated as the cat. He hoped
she wouldn’t mind stopping for pizza after they toured the library. Not many
restaurants open on Sunday night.

When Harper approached him from behind, he scooped
up the Siamese. Turning with Cleo in his arms, he caught his breath at the
sight of the woman in front of him.

The main reason he kept mentally trying to think
of Harper as someone who would look down on him and the town was so he could
put her in a neat little isolated mental box and pretend he didn’t like her or
want her. Pretend he didn’t desire her.

But that was a million miles from the truth.

He just couldn’t picture himself as the kind of
guy who would wine her, dine her, bed her, and leave her in pretty short order.

So far, she’d been great through everything he’d
thrown at her and came back for more, giving as good as she got and looking incredible.
While she’d been in the bathroom, she’d done something to her hair that
temporarily straightened it. She’d applied lip gloss that made him want to
slick his tongue right over it. And she’d removed her fancy footwear for
flatter sandals that an ordinary person could walk around in. She looked a lot
shorter, but that didn’t take a thing away from the shape of her legs or
overall knockout body. She still appeared extremely doable, and he still wanted
to reach out and do her. Worst luck.

As expected, the cat hissed at the stranger in her
domain, and Zach reassured her with a leisurely stroke of his hand on her back.
“Meet Cleo. She thinks she owns the place and begrudgingly allows Rachel to
live here. She’s really the one we should have checked with before I let you
in. It’s a good thing you got a chance to meet her before she attacks you in
your sleep.”

“Thanks for the warning. I’m sure we’ll get along
just fine.”

Harper and Cleo had a bit of a stare down, and
Zach would’ve been hard pressed to say who had won.

“She’s been declawed, so the pain would be
minimal, but I’ll close her into whichever bedroom you don’t use.” He set her
on the floor to roam at will until the decision was made.

“All right. I may as well decide on a bed right
now. Want to show me the choices?” That eager, curious expression seemed like
second nature to her.

“I sure do.” He mentally winced and hoped his
friendly, helpful, professional smile successfully masked the suggestive leer
he was close to displaying. “Let me finish showing you through the house, then
we’ll head over to the library.”

Swallowing back any comment that would reveal his
true feelings about leading Harper to a bedroom, he ushered her down the hall
to Rachel’s room. Harper stuck her head in the door and peered around at the
handcrafted furniture his sister had designed and had their dad build to fit
the room. The simple lines of the dark pieces turned the space from a bedroom
into a retreat that was his sister’s pride and joy. Rachel’s style and
preferences were written all over it.

“Where’s the other one?” She retreated without
lingering. “Upstairs, right?”

“Careful on the stairs. They’re steep, and Rachel
mentioned the banister was loose the other day. I’ll stop by in the morning and
take care of it.”

Harper headed up the stairs as he followed, which
afforded him an excellent view of her ass, but he couldn’t shake a small
feeling of annoyance. He didn’t care if she rejected Rachel’s room. But if the
nicest space in the house didn’t appeal to her, she sure wouldn’t like the much
shabbier guest room either.

So when she stepped from the landing into the
room, Zach braced himself for haughty disapproval. The warm, simple
furnishings—the four-poster that had been their grandmother’s, the dresser that
had been Rachel’s since childhood, and the rocking chair that had been their
mother’s—were nothing fancy. Nothing that would seem special to someone else,
but all things his sister had repurposed and cherished.

Rushing into the room with a gasp, she smiled and
a twirled. “This is amazing. It reminds me of my room at my grandmother’s
house. So normal, so real, so...authentic.”

“Sure.” Zach rubbed the back of his neck and
looked around. “If by normal you mean ‘used’ and by ‘authentic’ you mean
‘old-fashioned’. Around here, we just call it secondhand. I thought you’d like
something more, uh, modern.”

“There’s a lot of history here, I’ll bet.” She
spoke in the hushed voice that most people reserved for sacred or educational
places, like churches, or museums...or, um, libraries.

“Several generations at least.” He pictured the
women in his family… how they’d acquired each piece of furniture and cared for
it well enough to pass it along to the one who came next. That’s just what
family did.

Harper sure seemed pleased about it. Her dark eyes
lit up with pleasure again. She’d shifted from the high-fashion creature
driving a flashy car into an enchanting sprite splashing down in a simpler
world.

And he’d love to be the one to escort her into
that new world with a better welcome than he’d shown her so far. He’d like to
be the one to kiss her hello. And good morning. And good night.

Her wide generous mouth was about as kissable as
any he’d seen. And if fixating on her mouth didn’t indicate he was several
months past getting laid and getting hornier by the minute, he didn’t know how
else to explain these bone-deep, compelling feelings of desire for her.

‘Cause with all the matchmakers they had in this
town, he’d employed plenty of subterfuge to keep everyone from linking him up
with their daughters, nieces, sisters, or cousins. And he wasn’t going to do
anything to make any of them think he might finally be interested in
interviewing life-partner candidates now. Not when he had one foot almost out
the door and across the state line.

He was staring at her. He knew it, too. Fascinated
as she took a turn about the room from the dresser to the window to the rocker,
exclaiming over every little thing. Her delight spilled out in a giggle as she
rocked the chair back and forth before turning to the bed.

Backing up to it, she dropped her butt on the edge
of the mattress, bouncing a few times to test the firmness, then twisting
around to stretch out and examine an embroidered pillow sham. As he glued his
shoulder to the doorframe, refusing to advance into the room and really put
that old four-poster to use, she smiled at him over her shoulder and created an
intimacy that sizzled like lightning in a heat storm.

Occupying the same room with Harper and a bed
didn’t seem like a good way to clear his head of thoughts of her on that bed.
Naked. He had to get her out of there before he tumbled her full-length against
the mattress and had her screaming in ecstasy or simply screaming and running
back to Chicago before she’d had so much as a glimpse of the library.

He cleared his throat and erased the X-rated
images that mocked him. “So, I guess you’re fine about staying here.”

“Ecstatic.” Her eyes glowed with pleasure.

“Great.” He forced himself to straighten away from
the door and turn his back on her.
 
“Next
stop’s the library. Let’s see if you’re, uh, ecstatic about that, too.”

God, he hoped not. Much more of her ecstasy and
he’d be lost in a hypothalamic fog.

Man, did he need to get out of town and get laid
soon.

Harper followed Zach down the
stairs and out the door of his sister’s house. The unbelievable place was
exactly the way she would want a house to look if she had a chance to buy one.
Exactly the way she wanted her temporary home to look after she moved in and
put her stamp on it.

She wanted to put her stamp on the town, too. But
so far, she’d struck-out in that department. Five of the six people she’d met
that day didn’t seem to like her all that much, including three children. And
Zach seemed to be on the fence.

Which was a mystery to Harper.

Her mother and sister may be considered the
beauties in her family, but everyone she’d previously met in her life—from
guidance counselors to head librarians to apartment building
superintendents—had pegged her as likable, friendly, and enthusiastic. Almost
the human equivalent of a cocker spaniel.

Gregarious overachiever had been her lifelong role
within the family dynamics, too. Her mother and Fiona were drama queens from
the get-go. Out of necessity, Harper had learned how to take stock of a situation,
smooth things over, and make everyone happy—with the possible exception of her
former fiancé.

But
this
guy.

Sheesh, except for that whole saving-the-dog
exercise, he seemed laid back to the point of comatose. Detached. Unflappable.
He clearly had a lot going in the brains department, and sometimes, for the
teeniest flash of a moment, he even seemed attracted to her. Like that one
distinct moment when she’d climbed out of her car, and maybe another one when
she’d asked to see the bedrooms. But he also seemed to find her a little bit
annoying.

As they headed down the street, she side-eyed Zach
and had to admit he looked perfect in every way. Maybe a little
too
perfect. Perfect enough to be a
doctor. Most people admired doctors on general principle, but Harper suppressed
a shiver of distaste. Sure, being a physician was a noble calling and almost
everyone either wanted their kids to be one or marry one. But the medical
doctors she knew were stuffy, opinionated, and completely full of themselves.

Or maybe that was just her father. Sometimes, she
found it difficult to disassociate the man from his profession.

Until Zach had revealed his occupation, she’d been
confused by the contradictory vibes she picked up from him. But now, she
understood his personality better. His responses revealed similarities to her
father’s Doctor/God Complex. In charge of everyone and everything in their
universe.
 
Lesser mortals dare not orbit
too closely. They might manage to be present for the grand gestures, big
moments, or overall miracles, but couldn’t be bothered with the day-to-day
details that could be handled by others.

Okay, message received. But too bad. If Zach
hadn’t been a doctor, they might have become friends.
Or more
. She cast another quick glance his way in time to see that
he was watching her and weighing his opinions. Apparently waiting for something
before he passed his final judgment. But waiting for what?

Waiting for her to judge him and the town and find
them lacking, maybe. Waiting to see if she’d blithely trip on back home as soon
as the going here got tough.

Boy, was he wrong about that. She’d do whatever it
took to make this work. She’d never wanted anything more.

With another plunge into record-breaking heat and
humidity, Harper’s hair threatened to frizz up again like Little Orphan
Annie’s. As she tugged on the ends, Zach moved with purposeful strides beside
her and resumed his assignment as Official Town Greeter.

He related facts and tidbits about the town,
pointing out landmarks. Apparently, the library was a total of three blocks
from her house. Three short blocks, not three long city blocks like in New York
or Chicago. She could walk to work each day in no time flat.

“Did you read the library’s history before you
applied for the Berkman Grant?” They skirted a statue in the park that
surrounded the building.

“Absolutely.” Excitement thrummed through her with
each step, thrilled to finally see firsthand the project she’d accepted.

“Do you know about the Carnegie lampposts
installed at the front entrance to most of his libraries?”

“Of course. Carnegie considered them a symbol of
enlightenment. I
am
a librarian, you
know. I research things,” she said when he raised his eyebrows in surprise.
“I’m glad the town managed to keep this one despite the recent hard times. A
lot of the lampposts disappeared before some communities recognized their
value.”

“It was a close call, but the Historical Society
managed to get ours protected by the National Registry before it was
demolished.”

And if it hadn’t been for young
techno-bazillionaire Andrew Berkman, the library and the lamppost would have
both been lost. As with many small towns, the Sunnyside tax base hadn’t been
able to keep the library afloat. After years of operating over budget, the town
had to quit funding it when other public necessities took precedence.

But Andrew Berkman, who had more money than God
also had a special fondness for small-town libraries. Nationwide, he set up
grants to refurbish and revitalize struggling or failed ones. Based on the
original Carnegie formula of public participation, he planned to reopen
facilities in twenty towns that could prove their need. The former Sunnyside
head librarian had filled out Sunnyside’s proposal. By some stroke of freaky
fate and amazing good fortune, the town had managed to receive one of the
grants.

In a dream-come-true moment for Harper, who had
been following the process out of curiosity and admiration for Andrew Berkman’s
philanthropy, she’d applied for the job closest to Chicago on a whim. Two
months ago, out of a pool of hundreds of applicants for the twenty libraries,
she’d been honored and thrilled to be chosen as the project leader at the
Sunnyside library. At thirty, she was the youngest librarian selected for the
project. She was up to the task but had a lot to prove.

And here she was, standing at the entrance of this
gem in the rough, waiting as Zach unlocked the front door by the light of the
Carnegie lamppost. As bedraggled as the exterior of the stately old building
appeared, its flaws were all cosmetic and caused by a lack of upkeep.
Hopefully, the same could be said for the interior. At least they kept this
door locked.

Zach pushed open the heavy door and motioned her
in ahead of him with a little ceremonial bow. “After you.”

Stepping eagerly inside the grand entry, she
waited for him to hit the lights. When the bright beams illuminated the entry
and beyond, the breath whooshed out of her in shock.

Blinking twice, she couldn’t immediately grasp the
sight in front of her. The deplorable condition of the interior didn’t match
the simple neglect of the exterior. Worse. Far worse. Massive devastation
loomed everywhere and looked almost intentional. But who could be so
conscienceless? And why? “Freaking hell! What happened here?”

“Damn!” Zach stepped in front of her as if there
might be potential harm lurking in the chaos before adding a few swear words of
his own. “What is this mess?”

“What—how—who—?” Harper sputtered in search of the
right words. With hands on her hips, she surveyed the damage that had occurred
in a formerly magnificent space. She could barely contain her distress. And
disappointment. If crying would help, she would have burst into tears.

“I don’t know how this happened.” Rigid with
anger, Zach and his previous unflappability shattered. “But I’ll damn sure find
out.”

“If the other locks in town are as unsuccessful as
this one, no wonder they aren’t used.” The snarky comment emerged from her
mouth unplanned. Sarcasm was a common fallback position for her. “They pretty
much suck at keeping vandals out, don’t they?”

Even though Harper had tried to reel in her
expectations, she could never have prepared herself for what looked like a sick
joke. Like a Dante’s
Inferno
depiction of a librarian’s worst nightmare—the destruction of a public library.

The stench made nausea roil through her empty
stomach. Spinning around, she headed back to the open door for a gulp of fresh
air.

Graffiti artists had been busy in the columned
entryway. And if the town had a homeless population, the odor, along with piles
of rags and debris, indicated they’d been using the main reading room for
shelter.

There appeared to be little left of the
furnishings. Most of what she could see was upended or broken into pieces. Even
the drawers of the outdated card catalog had been removed and the cards strewn
across a floor. Water spots puddled on the dramatic black and white tile.

But it was the condition of the books that broke
her heart. Why would anyone be so thoughtless with shelf upon shelf of books?
Doubtful they could be reclaimed or reconditioned after such horrendous
treatment.

“Oh, my.” Blinking through a sheen of tears, she
closed her eyes. Beside her, Zach vibrated with anger. “Did a tornado sweep
through Sunnyside recently?”

“No.” His jaw muscles twitched.

“How did it get like this? Who let it happen?”
Helplessly, she was drawn to a shelf of poetry books. Picking up a damp volume,
she paged through it. Just as she figured, the combination of sweltering heat
and water had resulted in a bumper crop of mold and mildew. She flipped through
a few more volumes in the same worthless condition.

Zach’s flushed cheeks and tense jaw communicated
his displeasure, annoyance, and maybe even embarrassment over the appalling
condition of the building. With a couple of long strides, he arrived at her
side, removed the books from her hands, and tossed them on the floor. “It’s no
excuse, but after the funding dried up, there wasn’t any money to maintain it.”

She probably would’ve slugged him if she thought
he had known and hadn’t warned her. “If Andrew Berkman had been notified, he
would have sent assistance—money, maintenance people, carpenters,
anything
—to keep it from getting this
bad.”

“Obviously, no one was paying attention.
Everyone’s got a lot on their plates just keeping their own lives together.”
Zach pushed fingers through his hair and shook his head. “Or maybe no one
wanted him to know how bad it was so he wouldn’t change his mind.”

“Building maintenance and police patrols would
have kept a lot of this from happening.” She circled in the middle of the room,
feeling helpless. “It doesn’t look like anyone’s checked on the building since
the doors closed last December.”

“You’re right.” A muscle jumped again in his jaw.
It touched her to see him wrestling with the same sort of fury that threatened
to swamp her. “It doesn’t. None of this makes sense. I’m sorry you’re having
such a bad beginning in Sunnyside.”

A little niggling twitch in the back of her mind
suggested he was at least partially responsible for this mess. She didn’t plan
to voice any of the concerns that nagged her, but an accusation spewed out of
her mouth. “The level of destruction looks intentional and feels almost
personal.”

“No.” Shaking his head, he stepped closer to her.
“Why? And who would it be aimed at? You? You don’t know anybody here, do you?
Do you think someone could have a grudge against Andrew Berkman? If anyone in
Sunnyside knew him, they’d be trying to get on his good side, not sabotage his
pet project.”

He slipped his arm around her shoulders, drawing
her in for a brief consoling hug, unexpected and more comforting than she would
have thought possible. He felt good and strong and oh, so competent. All
attributes that had been in short supply among the men in her life.

She leaned her head against his shoulder for a
scant second. Even though she wanted to sink into his solid strength, she
pulled away, afraid to let herself accept or expect too much.

No reason to point the finger at Zach for what had
happened here. Not really. But he was a member of the town council, and she
couldn’t help thinking they’d shirked their duty. But blame wouldn’t do any
good. Sometimes the best course was to pick up the pieces and move on. Part of
her job would be turning the situation around.

Tasks for the next day ticked through her brain.
“The first order of business will be a cleaning crew and then an estimate to
see what renovations are needed and how long they’ll take.”

Zach agreed. “The town council planned to meet
with you at noon tomorrow, but I’ll get a team of volunteers over here first
thing in the morning so you’ll have enough information by the time you meet
them to make a report.”

Obviously, she should accept his offer. Volunteers
were much more likely to line up for him than for her. “Now, I’m looking
forward to the council meeting, more than ever.” Although she had a few choice
things to say to them, she pressed her lips together, trying to hang onto her
temper. “Have as many people here as early as you can, and we’ll get started clearing
out the worst of this mess. What about a building inspector or contractor to
work up a quote? Can you change the location of the meeting to the library so
the council can see this firsthand?”

“We can’t change the location of the meeting
without public notice, but it’s being held just across the street in the old
courthouse. Anyone who needs to can come over afterward to see what you’re up
against. But they’ll probably drop by in the morning, as they get word about
this.” He stared around in disgust. “Do you want to see the rest of the
building now or wait until tomorrow?”

“It won’t be any better tomorrow, and it might be
worse. Better see it now.” She peered up at the ceiling, still trying to grasp
the magnitude of the problem. “Is there rain in the forecast?”