“It was ten years ago. They need to move on. Then again, nothing worth talking about ever happens here.” He stepped back. “Maybe this was a mistake. Why don’t I just take off and we’ll forget this ever happened?”

Was he implying a date with her wouldn’t be worth talking about, either? Bri may not be like whatever kind of woman he usually spent time around, but she wasn’t chopped liver. Whatever Avery’s and Drew’s reasons for setting them up—and she would be having a conversation with Avery about this—she’d agreed to this date as a favor, and she was damn well going to see it through. She huffed and lifted her chin. “No. I agreed to take you out on this date, and that’s what I’m going to do. It would be a shame for you to have to sit at home by yourself and do whatever it is lonely, attractive men like you do.”

…

The last thing Ryan Flannery planned on when he came back to visit his family was being browbeaten by his big brother into a blind date. All he’d been looking for was a break from the Air Force—and the intense training he’d gone through for the last five and a half months—for two weeks. Then he’d hit the ground running, and start gearing up for his next deployment. He should have known a trip back to Wellingford would be anything but restful, but the siren call of home had been too much to resist after so long away.

Looking at the woman standing across from him, her chin raised and blue eyes flashing behind those sexy secretary glasses, he had to admit that coming back might have been a mistake. A muscle ticked in his jaw. She thought he was lonely? “I’m more than capable of keeping myself entertained.”

Bri brushed past him, her gaze on the street. “Do you think so? I think your brother has the right idea of it—a man whose idea of a good time is burning things to the ground shouldn’t be left to his own devices. You’re a menace to society.”

She sounded so prim and proper, he wanted to muss up her straight dark hair and undo a few buttons on her shirt just to see what she’d do. That thought gave him all the ammunition he needed. “You wouldn’t know a good time if it bit you in the ass.”

“Excuse me?” Her back went so ramrod straight, it was like he could see the stick up her ass. Ryan’s gaze dropped to where her hips curved, and he frowned at the long skirt. The fall of the fabric indicated there was something there worth grabbing, but he couldn’t be sure. “What were your plans tonight—hanging out with your thirteen cats and knitting them mittens?”

She gasped. “I don’t have cats. They’re evil creatures. I have a perfectly nice fish named Mr. Smith.”

“How mundane. Let me guess. A goldfish?” He closed the door behind him and pressed a hand to the small of her back, guiding her down the stairs and toward his Suburban. It was difficult not to follow the perfect line of her spine with his palm, no matter how aggravating he found her.

“Don’t be insulting. He’s a betta fish.”

Because that makes a world of difference. Ryan snorted. “No wonder you haven’t had a date in the fourteen months my brother’s known you. I bet you talk to your fish, too, don’t you?”

She half turned to glare, the move dragging his hand over her back, though she didn’t seem to notice. “Fish need companionship, same as any other animal. He likes it when I read to him.”

“I’ll bet he does.” He opened the passenger door and waited for her to climb into the seat, which she did with a huff. By the time he made it around to the driver’s side, her body language had chilled the inside of the car more than the weather.

He started the Suburban and took a second to let the truth sink in. His brother had well and truly screwed him. Drew had gone on and on about the beautiful—but shy—new librarian who’d just moved to Pennsylvania all the way from California and didn’t know many people in town, and needed someone to show her a good time. Ryan had figured there were worse things to do on leave than take out a sweet, pretty girl.

Turned out Drew was only half-right.

She thought he was a charity case. Hell, she practically clobbered him with it, despite the fact that he was the one doing the favor here. Worse, she jumped at the first opportunity to shove his past down his throat—or an exaggerated version of it that didn’t take into account little things like the truth. And why should she be worried about the truth? No one else in this town was.

He pulled onto the street, wishing he hadn’t agreed to this favor. Instead of sitting in his SUV with a prickly little librarian, he’d be drinking beer with his brother and Avery while they played video games.

On second thought, maybe this was the better of the two options.

He glanced at Bri, taking in the way she had her arms wrapped tightly around herself, as if she might break apart at any second. Or maybe she was just trying not to rip him a new one. He didn’t normally have women going for his throat within thirty seconds of meeting him, and this was a new experience he could have gone without. Ryan turned out of her neighborhood and replayed their meeting from beginning to end, trying to determine where it had all gone wrong.

It didn’t take long to figure out the answer.

When she’d opened the door, he’d been blown away, not expecting such an intoxicating blend of beautiful and what he could only describe as librarian. She’d been flushed and sporting an expression that was both terrified and excited, and all he could focus on was how he wanted to take off those sexy glasses and see if her lips tasted as kissable as they looked.

By the time he’d gotten hold of himself, all the excitement had melted away, leaving only a wary resignation. And then it was too late. Not a damn thing he could do or say would take back those seventeen seconds—she’d already mistaken his silence for disappointment. “You’re wrong.”

“Concerning which part?” She didn’t even look at him. “The fact that you can’t be trusted to spend time alone without doing damage to public property? Or for believing my friends when they said they were setting me up with a nice guy?”

He clenched his jaw. “Moving past the property damage bullshit for a second, what makes you think I’m not a nice guy?”

“Would you like a list?” She shook her head. “You couldn’t be clearer about your distaste for Wellingford. That’s hardly nice.”

“My disliking this place has nothing to do with being nice. This town is small and cloying and everyone here has been stuck in a rut since the lumber mill opened up a few hundred years ago.” Too late, he realized he had just included Bri in the insult.

She finally turned in her seat to face him. “Is that so? And what’s so wrong with working a legitimate job and making a living? Or the people who want a life where they know their neighbors? Or that some of us like not having to worry about locking our doors at night?”

He winced. Yep. She’d caught the unintended insult. “I—”

She spoke right over him. “Yes, people like to gossip and keep tabs on each other, but that’s what family does. At least you have one, even if you ran away from it.”

Setting aside the implication that she didn’t have a family for now, he growled. “I didn’t run away.”

“To hear Drew tell of it, you barely waited a week after graduation to up and leave.”

Yeah, because he couldn’t stand one more day of being known as Drunk Billy’s youngest boy, always causing trouble, never quite doing a damn thing right no matter how hard he tried. Burning down the high school—accidentally or not—had just been the straw that broke the camel’s back.

That didn’t mean that this little spitfire could look down her adorable nose at everything he’d accomplished since. “There’s nothing wrong with joining the military and doing something useful with my life.”

“You’re right. There isn’t. It’s admirable.” She didn’t give him time to deal with the shock of her actually agreeing with him. “How many times have you been home in the last ten years?”

From her tone, she already knew the answer. Twice. Once for his old man’s funeral, and once for Drew’s graduation from the police academy. Needing to get the topic off himself—and away from her goddamn judgment—he turned the tables. “You know, from the way Drew described you, I didn’t expect an interrogation.”

She huffed again as he pulled into the restaurant parking lot. He’d picked the Italian place on the outskirts of town, hoping to minimize the chance of running into anyone he knew. If he thought he could have gotten away with driving all the way into Williamsport, he would. But it was nearly forty minutes away, and he didn’t think he could handle being closeted in this SUV with Bri that long. He kept catching the faintest strain of her perfume, something light and floral, and it was distracting as hell. Annoyed that he’d even noticed, he spoke without thinking. “That said, for a mousy librarian, you sure have a mouth on you.”

…

Mousy librarian. He really wasn’t pulling any punches. Bri gripped her purse as she started for the restaurant, and she nearly gasped when he pressed a hand to the small of her back and guided her through the door. She glanced at him, half expecting to see… She wasn’t sure what. But there was just tight anger on his face.

What had she expected? That he was so overcome by her mousiness that he couldn’t help but touch her? She might enjoy living in the fictional worlds of her books, but she wasn’t delusional.

Knowing that didn’t help the way the heat from his hand seemed to seep through her coat and blouse and imprint itself on her skin. His thumb stroked down her spine in what must have been an accident, but it didn’t stop her from catching her breath. Was he playing with her? Look at the poor, dowdy librarian, and how she responds to the slightest touch like an overeager puppy. Pathetic.