“Knock, knock.”
Just like that, Wilson was forgotten as Rebecca grinned at her computer screen. Kyle’s reflection provided the best midday surprise she could hope for in a cubicle that normally bored her to pieces. “Hey, you…If I had a door, I’d say come in.”
“You were supposed to say, ‘Who’s there?’ Now what am I going to do with the rest of this joke?”
Rebecca spun around in her chair. Real-life Kyle Hunter blew computer monitor mini Kyle away.
She swiped an errant lock behind her ear and savored the way he looked at her. His blue eyes twinkled with mischief. She tapped the side of her pencil against her teeth, torturing him for just a bit. Kyle brought out the miscreant in her as well. “But I already know who’s there; one of the two most gorgeous guys in Manhattan.”
“You play dirty.”
“Hmmm, wonder who’s better at it? Me or you?”
He eased closer, crouching down and resting his hands on her thighs, rubbing smooth passes over her knit wrap dress. “You’re giving me a hell of a run for my money.”
“OK,” she whispered. “I’ll bite. Who’s there?”
“Mister Moore.”
“Mister Moore, who?”
“Mister Moore than she could imagine.” He waggled his eyebrows.
She cupped the side of his face, the grin bigger than ever. “Keep your day job, Romeo. That was just awful.”
His smile turned into her palm, pressing a soft kiss there. “But it’s true. That’s got to count for something.”
She leaned forward, pulling her hand away to lay a work-appropriate peck on his addictive lips. It took more than a bit of willpower to keep her from trying to swallow his tongue.
Kyle had been upstate the last few days, greasing palms and kissing babies. She inhaled his scent—subtle but rich, like ginger and teak. Was it cologne or simply his soap, his shampoo, his essence? She really didn’t know. She really didn’t know much about Kyle Hunter at all.
“I missed you too.” At least she knew that.
“Can you break away from here for a few?”
She turned off her computer screen. There was nothing that couldn’t wait until after lunch. “I think I can let Mrs. Gottlieb enjoy her soap operas a little while longer before I interrupt her with a reminder about her donation promise.”
“I brought a few of the kids I tutor by to meet you. Thought you might be able to talk to them about what you do as a curator. Most of these kids have never been out of the city. The library can be like a passport for them, and you’re the best person I know to show them what it has to offer.”
That shouldn’t have made her want to rip his clothes off. A more normal reaction would have been to be flattered. In the end she was mystified. “Are you for real?”
Kyle looked confused. “What do you mean?”
“I mean, did I conjure an angel or something? You have a huge heart, Kyle Hunter.”
“Huge, maybe, but sweetheart, I’m no angel.”
She swatted him. “You are; you just don’t know it.” Then she grabbed his hand for a squeeze. “Sure, I’d love to talk to them.”
Ten teenagers looked positively bored to tears, sprawled out in a variety of poses at one of the forty-two oak tables that lined either side of the magnificent architectural treasure that was the main reading room.
“OK, you guys. Phones down. This is the woman I wanted you to meet. Her name is Rebecca Sinclair. She’s a librarian, and, no, she is not a hundred fifty years old like you thought she would be.”
Rebecca laughed at her introduction and was promptly shushed by a visitor from the adjacent table. She whispered, “Let’s head over to the café where it’s OK to talk.”
While Kyle ordered sandwiches, Rebecca fielded her first question—from herself. “So, I bet you are wondering what’s so great about being a curator.”
She got a few blank stares, a few more shrugs, and one audacious, “Not really.”
Rebecca sighed. “How many of you like to read?”
One young lady nodded her head in Rebecca’s direction and then continued to work her thumbs over her phone.
“Texts don’t count,” the boy next to her said, and everyone laughed.
Rebecca smiled. “Ah, but what if it was a very important text, like the last text received from the World Trade Center? That would be worth saving, wouldn’t it?”
She got a few more nods.
“How cool would it be to read the very first lyric book of your favorite rapper or the diary of a famous actress? These are the kinds of things librarians protect for the world to enjoy and learn from.”
She glanced at Kyle, who smiled and waved as he waited for the last of the sandwiches to be made.
“Right now I’m putting together an exhibit of letters between Kyle’s great-great-grandparents, who were in love even though their families were against the idea. You see, it’s not always about what you’re reading. Sometimes the most meaningful part is why you’re reading those words. The context gives us insight and an appreciation for something, even when it’s not part of our own experience.”
“What’s so great about reading someone else’s letters?”
Rebecca thought for a moment. “Well, let’s say there was someone you wanted to meet really badly. Who would that person be?”
The boy shrugged and tucked his head, suddenly shy. “I don’t know.”
“How about that gorgeous model on the cover of every magazine these days, you know the one with the short hair and green eyes.”
He cupped the air with both hands. “And the nice round butt. Yeah, she’s hot.”
Rebecca persevered. “Wouldn’t it be better to know her than to just meet her for a few minutes? Reading someone’s words is like getting to know them, understanding their feelings and experiencing…what they are going through. Get it?”
“Yeah. Got any love letters from her?” he asked with a big snarky smile.
Rebecca smiled back. “Not yet. If I find any, I’ll call you in as my assistant.”
Everyone laughed again.
“What was the coolest thing you ever found?” The girl who asked this had an eager expression on her face, the first Rebecca had seen on any of the kids. Rebecca looked around the table. A few others leaned forward.
Kyle returned with a pile of neatly wrapped foil bundles. Rebecca touched his hand as he set them down, swiping over his fingers as she began to help him pass each bundle. “Those letters are pretty special. They show how loving someone is like a runaway train sometimes, unstoppable no matter the obstacles.”
Kyle winked at her, and Rebecca felt her skin heat and prickle.
“You know, I can probably get some extra tickets for the opening. Who wants to come?”
Hands flew up from the girls. The boys nodded once, maybe twice. “Doesn’t sound terrible,” one said.
Kyle grinned. “Well, that’s what I call a ringing endorsement.”
Rebecca bit into her BLT, and Kyle cleared a smidge of mayo from the corner of her mouth with his thumb. “Oh, thanks.”
“No,” he said, glancing around the table at the teenagers as they happily ate and chatted. When he returned his gaze to her, the sincerity in his eyes made her heart fill with helium. “Thank you, Rebecca.”
The kids waited while he walked her back upstairs to her office. Kyle stopped at the sign marked Fundraising, the constant chatter rattling on in the background. He looked down at his feet as if something weighed heavy.
“You know, I was also hoping you might be able to break away for the weekend.” He cocked his head to the side and looked up at her.
Rebecca thought nerves looked adorable on him, and she was flattered. “Are you asking me out?”
“It would seem that we skipped that step.” He grinned at her. “I was thinking a quick trip to Bermuda for the three of us.
“Bermuda for the weekend? Kind of a jetsetter move, isn’t it? What’s wrong with the beaches around here?” Being swept off her feet only made her feel off-balance. She managed most of her life with a healthy amount of lead in her pretty shoes; it kept her grounded and safe. She shook her head. “An extravagance like that is totally unnecessary.”
Kyle flinched the slightest bit. “I never said I didn’t like having money.”
She saw it in his face, the way her words had hurt him, though it was almost imperceptible. She hadn’t meant to sound like such an ungrateful bitch. Rebecca peered into the office at the dozen or so worker bees, buzzing away on the telephones.
“You’re not going to tell me that your passport is expired, are you?”
She shook her head and sighed. “No, it’s current. I just feel kind of strange going on such a lavish trip knowing I could never afford it.”
Kyle cupped her cheek. “Rebecca, if you can tell me one time when you let someone do something nice for you, I’ll forget all about Bermuda and take you to Coney Island instead.”
Rebecca pressed her lips together. “It’s just that…”
“You’re allergic to kindness?”
“I like taking care of myself.” Even as she said it, the words felt selfish and prideful. When had her rabid independence become such a sour pill?
“I hope that’s a job with room for expansion.” He smiled at her, and she felt like a complete fool. “Anyway, you lose. We’re jetsetting to Bermuda for a weekend of excessive pleasure.” He handed her the ticket. She took it and couldn’t help the grin spreading across her face. “Our flight is at eight a.m. Saturday, and I’ll have you back late Sunday night.” He peered into her office with a conspiratorial sneer. “No one will ever suspect a thing.”
She giggled. “OK, you win.”
“I always do,” Kyle said and kissed her quickly, before jogging back toward the stairs.
Rebecca pulled out her phone and texted Manny.
Bermuda?
He texted back.
Yeah. Ever been?
No. You?
No. Want you to try on your bikini for me when you get home.
She smiled. Manny didn’t seem to have a problem with Kyle treating them to such a lavish gift. Why did it make her feel so…vulnerable?
* * *
The night before the trip, Rebecca and Manny spent the night at Kyle’s—as they had every other night that week. Rebecca felt more at home between them than she would have felt in her own bed. The idea of that tickled something surprising and hopeful inside of her. When had she ever preferred anything but her own space? And now she was taking favors that ended up in Bermuda. When did she become that girl?
Kyle winked at her in the mirror as he brushed his teeth. She rinsed and placed her toothbrush in its spot, feeling a strong need to hug him from behind and lay her cheek against his back. Manny appeared in the doorway just as Kyle turned off the water. He wore a frown and not much else.
“That was my boss calling,” Manny said. “The guy covering for me got sick and can’t work the charter flight to Boston we have scheduled. I have Sunday off, but I’m needed there tomorrow until about 4:00.”
“Dude, that sucks. We can postpone the trip.”
Manny paused a moment, dragging his eyes over both of them. He sighed. “No. Go without me. I’ll just catch a later flight. No reason to keep you two from having fun in the meantime.”
Kyle stepped toward him. “We could reschedule for next week. I just need to juggle some things.”
“Don’t be ridiculous. You’ve got commitments. I know that.” Manny took a short breath and leaned in for a brusque kiss on the lips. “I’ll get there as soon as I can.”
* * *
Manny fell into bed last, tucking himself behind a lightly snoring Kyle. Late-night TV hadn’t been quite mind-numbing enough to settle his mind. As he curled his arm around Kyle, a singular nagging fear clawed at his insides. Rebecca and Kyle would be in Bermuda for hours without him. Already there seemed to be big sparks raging between them, and though Manny hated himself for it, the thought of them getting closer worried him. He brushed his lips against Kyle’s earlobe, and Kyle stirred toward him. The motion in the bed pulled Rebecca their way, and she eased her hand onto Kyle’s shoulder.
Manny still had a hard time understanding how this could work. He loved Kyle, loved sharing Rebecca with him in order to bring her levels of pleasure she could never imagine. He was falling for Rebecca more every day, no doubt about it. The way he felt when he spent time with her was so much stronger than just sexual attraction. Each of them had a piece of his heart, so why did it bother him that they might share something too?
All along he’d worried that he didn’t have enough to give both of them without letting either of them down. Maybe he wasn’t strong enough to watch them fall for each other, because then they just might not need him at all.
Fucking insecure ninny. He had absolutely no reason for the doubts flooding his head. Everything was great between the three of them—better than he could have dreamed it could be. So why ruin it with jealousy and the corrosive thoughts streaming through his head? He lay there next to the man he’d always counted on and the woman he wanted to be there for, staring off into the dark, seeing nothing.
He wasn’t sorry he’d given in to his most basic desire to have them both. There was no going back on that greedy indulgence. Anyway, he was pretty sure he couldn’t stop wanting both of them if he tried. But what about them wanting each other? Somehow, that hadn’t played into the plan. He had this grating need to make it clear they both belonged to him, and he hated himself for it. Could he be more of a selfish jerk? He had to stop and figure this shit out, because there was a good chance they might want to belong to each other.
He didn’t sleep well. Sharing a bed with two people, his restless night hadn’t gone unnoticed.
“You feeling OK?” Kyle asked, as he threw another T-shirt into his leather duffel bag.
“I’m cool,” Manny answered, dragging himself out of bed. He scrubbed his tired eyes and yawned. Glancing at the clock, he noticed it was just past six.
“Something on your mind? You tossed and turned all night.”
“Just stressed over work.”
Kyle gave him a suspicious look. “Couldn’t possibly be worse than engaging hostiles in our Cobra.”
Manny grimaced at him, and Kyle held up his hands.
“Just imagine Rebecca and me on the beach and think how you’ll be joining us soon.”