The Deputy's Perfect Match

He leaned toward Evy. “Where do you live, Miss Shaw? Turnabout is fair play, don’t you think?”

With his chiseled countenance, Mr. Law Enforcement bore a striking resemblance to Clark Kent aka Superman. He’d probably be very handsome if he ever relaxed his rigid features. With effort, she wrenched her gaze to the computer.

She poised her fingers over the keyboard. “I’m boarding with Pauline Crockett off Seaside Road. Near—”

“I’m familiar with Miss Pauline’s farm.”

“You’re a ’been here then. Isn’t that what the locals call themselves?” She focused on the screen. “Which makes me a ’come here. What’s your telephone number?”

“Why? Are you planning to ask me out, Miss Shaw?”

Her heart palpitated. She was unused to—and unsettled by—the oh-so-masculine attention.

She gestured at the computer. “It’s for th-the form.”

He laughed. “Turnabout is fair play, remember, Miss Shaw?”

She pointed at a tray of business cards with the library’s website and phone number. “I think I have enough information to process the application.”

Was he flirting with her? Or mocking her? She lifted her chin.

He straightened, his hazel eyes going serious. “I didn’t mean to... I thought we—”

“It will take me a minute to create the card. If you can’t stick around, I’ll mail it to you.”

He shuffled his big feet. “I can wait.”

“In the meantime...” She shoved a welcome folder at him. “Here’s information about the services available at the library. And a schedule of upcoming events.”

She gave him a nice view of her back. Better to get this over with ASAP. “In the packet are the conditions and privileges granted to you as a borrower.” She worked quickly to laminate the card.

With the card hot off the machine, she faced him once again. “I should’ve asked for your ID first. Saved you the trouble of answering unnecessary questions. But per library regulations, I’m going to have to see some picture identification.”

A muscle ticking in his jaw, Mr. Law Enforcement fished his wallet out of his pocket. He extracted his license and passed it to her. She skimmed it for a split second.

She pushed his new library card and his license across the counter. “Here’s your card.” The less contact, the better.

Mr. Law Enforcement had a curious effect on her nerve endings. “There is a one-dollar replacement fee if you lose the card.”

“I won’t lose it.” The deputy inserted the cards into his wallet. “I don’t lose things I go after.”

She opened her mouth, thought better of it and clamped her lips together.

He smiled.

She caught the edge of the desk. The flash of those even, white teeth could blind a person. When he smiled like that, his stern countenance became almost handsome.

Evy placed her palms flat against the wood to steady herself. No almost about it. Deputy Charles Everett Pruitt the Third was quite handsome.

Heart-throbbingly handsome. He should smile more often. She wondered why he didn’t. Not that he and his smile—or lack thereof—were any of her business.

That was the problem with small towns like Kiptohanock. Especially small Southern towns. Everybody was into everybody else’s business. And the nosiness appeared to be contagious. She needed—to quote the stalwart Captain Kirk—to raise her shields.

Maybe local law enforcement made it a point to get to know newcomers. But Evy couldn’t afford anyone prying into her background. Not when she had so many secrets to keep.

* * *

When Evangeline Shaw’s expression transformed at the sight of Caroline, Charlie’s instincts kicked into gear. With her guileless blue eyes not so guileless anymore, he’d changed his mind about leaving the library.

Maybe the Duer sisters weren’t as off base in their suspicions as he’d imagined. Something was going on with the librarian.

He witnessed firsthand the melding thing the Duer sisters insisted she did with people. Practically blending into the background. Undercover agents could have learned a trick or two from the quiet librarian.

Exiting the library with Izzie chattering nonstop, Caroline did an admirable job of not blowing his so-called cover.

So he’d invented the need for a library card. Any excuse to justify his continued presence in Miss Shaw’s hallowed hall of books. But he’d embarrassed her with his mild stab at flirtatiousness.

Either she wasn’t the sort of girl who played games or, worse, he’d lost his appeal to women since Honey. Maybe Miss Shaw wasn’t into his type. Not every woman liked a guy in uniform.

“Was that everything you needed, Deputy?”

It hadn’t escaped his notice she’d misdirected his attempts to call him by name. He found her reticence intriguing. He found the touch of her hand disturbing.

Which might have been the most troublesome warning sign of all.

“I—I...” His gaze darted around the reception area. Searching for a reason to see her again. On behalf of the investigation, of course.

Charlie jabbed his finger at the purple poster tacked on the wall behind the librarian. “I want to register for the book club.”

Her brow puckered. “What book club?” As if unsure of his meaning. Or stalling.

“Do you have other book clubs?”

“No...only this one, which meets every Thursday night.”

“Then that’s the one I want to join.” He widened his stance, hips even with his feet. “It says you’re the facilitator.”

She turned and scanned the notice as if not trusting her memory. “Yes, I guess it does.”

“Okay then.”

She blinked.

“What do I need to do for Thursday? Just show up?”

She pursed her lips. Beautiful lips, he decided.

He scowled. Stick to the case, Pruitt.

Evangeline Shaw nudged her glasses higher onto the bridge of her nose. “Showing up is the least of what we do in the book club, Deputy Pruitt.”

She gave him a prim look he remembered an English teacher or two bestowing on him during high school a decade ago. “You need to read the book first. With today being Monday, I’m not sure you’d be able—”

“You don’t think I can read a book in three days, Miss Shaw?”

He also decided to make it his personal goal to be on a first-name basis with Miss Shaw and vice versa by Thursday.

“I don’t know if this particular book selection...” Again with the blush.

She wound a strand of her hair around her finger. “I mean, I don’t think this book would be your cup of tea.”

He grinned. “Good thing the only tea I drink is sweet.”

The blush deepened, and she stepped sideways. Barricading herself behind the stack of books?

He rubbed his chin. “How bad could it be? It’s not War and Peace, is it?”

“No...not exactly.” She toyed with the gold chain dangling around her neck. “It is a classic. Not your kind of book.”

Charlie cocked his head. “I wouldn’t be too sure about that, Miss Shaw, seeing as we barely know each other. Yet.”

Her eyebrows rose.

Charlie’s cell suddenly warbled.

The librarian’s eyes narrowed. “Is that the theme to...?” She hummed a few bars.

His turn to flush, he pried the cell out of his pocket. Caller ID indicated Caroline Clark’s home number.

Those Duer sisters. Couldn’t even wait for him to get out of the line of fire before they wanted a report. He’d had police academy sergeants less demanding. He clicked the phone off.

She propped her elbows on the desk. “Bonanza?”

“I liked Westerns as a kid. Still do.” He waited for the usual derisive comments.

Instead, she favored him with a genuine smile. And his gut flip-flopped.

“Me, too, Deputy.” She motioned toward the second story. “We have an entire section devoted to Western historicals.”

“Is that what the book club is reading this week?”

She fluttered her lashes. “Why no, it’s not.”

From underneath the counter, she drew out a thick, heavy paperback and plunked it in front of him. “This week we’re reading and discussing another classic.”

She smirked. “Welcome to the Jane Austen Reading Club, Deputy.”

Chapter Two

Tuesday evening, Evy was just about to lock up when—

“I’m in over my head, Miss Shaw.”

Evy shrieked. The key dropped out of her hand and fell with a clatter onto the library porch. Spinning around, she fell into the doorframe.

Stooping, Deputy Charlie Pruitt retrieved the key lying between their feet. “Sorry. Are you okay?”

Her breath came in short spurts, and she clutched the strap of her purse. “No thanks to you. You nearly gave me a heart attack.”

The deputy nudged the brim of his hat higher onto his forehead. “I thought you saw me through the window when you set the alarm.” His brow creased. “You’re a nervous sort of gal, aren’t you?”

She drew herself to her full height—all five feet three inches. “When somebody creeps up on you in the dark? You bet I am.”

“I didn’t creep up on you.” He handed her the brass key. “And it isn’t dark.”

“Not yet.” She fisted the key. “The sidewalks here roll up at five o’clock. Anyone would be nervous.”

“Depends on what you’re used to, I suppose.” His eyebrow rose. “Kiptohanock’s a pretty safe place. Where was it again you said you were from?”

Her mouth tightened. “I didn’t say.” She stuffed the key into a voluminous tote bag.

“So you didn’t.”

Arms folded across his chest, he leaned against one of the brick pillars bookending the veranda steps. His long legs blocked her exit. Or did she mean, her escape?

“Was there something I could help you with, Deputy?” She gestured at the darkened building. “As you can see, the library is closed.”

She tapped her foot against the wide-planked boards. “Or are you stopping by to let me know you’ve decided to drop out of the book club?”

He smiled.

Evy’s heart ratcheted up.

“Actually, Miss Shaw, I did want to talk to you about the book club.”

“I’d be glad to return the book so you don’t have to make another trip.” She took a step toward him. “Did you leave it in your patrol car?” He didn’t take the hint to move out of her way.

His smile, if anything, grew wider. “I appreciate the personal service—”

She flushed.

“—but I’m not dropping out of the book club. On the contrary, I’ve managed to read through the novel twice.”

“Twice? Really?”

Charlie Pruitt broadened his shoulders and removed his hat. Which he placed over his heart.

Her heart did a minuet.

“Fact is, Miss Shaw, there are a few parts I’m having trouble digesting, and I wondered if you’d be willing to give me a few pointers so I’ll be prepared for book club on Thursday.”

“I’m—I...”

“How about over Chinese at the Four Corners Shopping Center?” He gave her a crooked smile. “I’m on my dinner break.”

Suddenly the space between them felt extremely intimate. As if there weren’t enough oxygen. Was he asking her out?

Of course not. He was asking for her help, her expertise. She was unused to male attention. Especially from someone so... She bit her lip. So male.

His mouth drooped. “You’re probably too busy. I didn’t mean to impose.” He ducked his head. “Or presume.”

She caught hold of his uniform sleeve. “I’m not busy.”

His eyes snapped to her face.

Evy let go of his arm. Could she have sounded more pathetic? “I’m mean, I’m never too busy for a library patron.”

Now she sounded like a cross between Mary Poppins and Margaret Thatcher. “I mean...might as well. We’ve both got to eat.”

Stop talking. She closed her eyes. Just stop talking.

“Great.”

She opened her eyes to find those long-lashed hazel eyes of his smiling at her. Her heart did a tango.

By sheer willpower, she dragged her gaze to the cleft in his chin. Maybe not a safe place to settle, either. Another blush mounted from beneath the collar of her white blouse.

“I’m an old-fashioned chow mein guy. How about you?”

She realized he was talking again. To her. “Umm... I like sweet and sour.”

“Of course you do.” He swept his hat across the length of the steps. “I’ll follow you there, Miss Shaw.”

“A police escort?” She smoothed the cuff of her blue cardigan and gathered her wits. “Should I be nervous?”

His eyes glinted. “Only if you’ve got something to hide.”

The deputy’s words felt like a kick in the gut. She quivered on the edge of the step. Perhaps this was a bad idea.

Hands in his pockets, he waited for her at the curb beside his patrol cruiser. But dinner—even dutch treat—with Deputy Pruitt proved too alluring a prospect for Evy to refuse. Law enforcement had to be suspicious by nature. It was probably nothing personal.

She hurried down the steps to her car and contemplated her next move. It might be smart to open up a tad. Allay any misgivings the deputy might have regarding a Kiptohanock newcomer. Disarm and distract.

And what better way to disarm and distract than a Regency-era book discussion?

* * *

In the alcove booth, Charlie edged back from the table. “You’re a total purist, aren’t you?” Aromas of soy sauce and stir-fry permeated the restaurant.

Evangeline Shaw paused midbite.

She gave him a sidelong look from beneath the eyelashes brushing her cheekbones. “What do you mean?” She lowered her chopsticks to the placemat adorned with Chinese characters.

“From classical literature to those.” His eyes cut to her eating utensils.

“Oh.” She swallowed. “Habit, I guess. Our housekeeper was Chinese, and when we went into the city, she always took me with her to visit her relatives in Chinatown.”

He pursed his lips. “So they owned a restaurant?”

The librarian pushed the plate away. “What was your question about the book, Deputy?”

“The two most famous Chinatowns being in New York and San Francisco.” He locked eyes with her. “But you don’t sound like a New Yorker.”

Evangeline Shaw held his gaze. “That’s because I’m not from New York.”

“So you call California home?”

The librarian lifted her chin. “As much as anywhere else, I suppose, Deputy Pruitt.”

“Please, I insist you call me Charlie. It’s the polite Kiptohanock way.”

He took a sip of the hot green tea and made a face. “This would be better with sugar.” He allowed a slow smile to spread across his face. “Everything’s better with sugar, don’t you think, Miss Shaw?”

Charlie enjoyed watching the librarian squirm in the seat across from him. He waited a beat before adding, “Or may I call you Evangeline since we’ve broken egg rolls together?”

Her lips quirked as if she fought the urge to laugh.

Maybe he hadn’t lost his touch, after all. “Were you a military brat?”

“No.”

Charlie held his breath, hoping she’d open up. Just a little. A little was all he’d need to get this investigation underway.

Her cherry-red Mini Cooper already sported Virginia plates. No help there. But he memorized the license number in the parking lot in case he ever needed it.

She took a breath and exhaled. “My parents are tenured English professors at Stanford.”

“Hence, I’m guessing, your early and lifelong love affair with books.”

She twisted the paper napkin in her lap. “That must seem lame to someone like you.”

He bristled. “What do you mean, ‘someone like me’?”

She motioned toward the badge pinned to his uniform. “You are a self-admitted nonreader, Deputy Pruitt. I’m guessing, a man of action.”

“My name is Charlie.”

“Why join the book club, Charlie? Pride and Prejudice isn’t exactly on most guys’ top-ten lists.” She arched her eyebrow. “If they even like to read. Which you made clear from the get-go that you did not.”

The diminutive librarian possessed a bit of steel. Good to know.

He crossed his arms over his chest. “I’m trying to keep a promise.”

She looked at him over the rim of her glasses.

“To expand my horizons. Jane Austen doesn’t have to be only chick lit, you know. There’s a lot in there for guys, too.”

Her eyes narrowed. “Like what?” A literary gauntlet.

“Like...like...” He racked his brain for what he’d digested from his middle-of-the-night, off-duty incursions into Austenland.

She drummed her fingers on the table.

“Like a strong man doesn’t have to be afraid of a strong woman like Elizabeth Bennet.” Challenge accepted. “And it’s funny, too.”

She scowled. “In what way?”

“Her dad cracks jokes all the time.” Charlie rested his elbows on the table. “Any dude surrounded by all those women would have to see the hilarious side of life or go insane.”

“Oh, really?”

“You got any brothers and sisters?”

The librarian hesitated. “It’s just me and my parents.”

“So your dad was outnumbered, too. Is he funny?”

“My father and mother keep their heads in the clouds most of the time. Only thing I ever heard them declare amusing was a play on words in Middle English from Chaucer’s Canterbury Tales.”

Chaucer? Was Evangeline Shaw for real?

She pressed her glasses higher on her nose. “Once, my mother giggled over a scene from the Bayeux Tapestry.”

“The Bayeux what?”

She fluttered her hand. “Never mind.”

He stared at her.

She fidgeted. “Stop looking at me like I’m from outer space. Theirs is an acquired humor. You had to be there.”

“There where?”

She sighed. “Most of their sabbaticals are spent in the French countryside. That’s where they are now.”

With parents like that, no wonder Evangeline Shaw loved books so much.

If anything, what he’d learned raised more questions in his mind. Like, what was someone like her—who spent vacations in France and probably spoke fluent French—doing in a tiny town in coastal Virginia? He vowed not to underestimate Miss Shaw again.

She cleared her throat. “We still haven’t talked about the book yet.”

“We’ve talked about several books.”

The librarian blinked. “We did?”

“Sure, we did. The Canterbury Tales, Pride and Prejudice and that Bayeux thingy.”

The librarian pushed at her glasses. “It’s a tapestry, not a book.”

Charlie pursed his lips. “I’ll look that up when I get off duty and remedy my sadly neglected education.”

Her eyes, like liquid sky, flashed. “Are you mocking me, Deputy Pruitt?”

Charlie hadn’t meant to rile her. “No, ma’am. I wouldn’t do that, I promise.” His heart hammered.

Then, understanding dawned on her face. “This foray of yours into literature is about a woman, isn’t it?” She fingered the frame of her glasses. “It has to be about a woman.”

He frowned. “Why do you assume it has to be about a woman? Are you mocking me now?”

“Is it or is it not about a woman?”

He fiddled with a duck sauce packet. “In a manner of speaking, yes.”

“She’s the one who’s the classical reader?”

This one he could answer without any check to his conscience. “She is.” He opened his palms. “Out of my league entirely, but hope springs eternal.”

“And this is where I and the Kiptohanock library come in?”

He gave her the tried and true, ever-reliable Charlie Pruitt grin. “Yes, ma’am.”

“Okay, then. Because that’s what I’m about.” Her cheeks reddened. “As a librarian, I mean.” She reached for the ticket.

He was a split-second quicker.

“This is supposed to be dutch treat,” she protested.

“Next time you can treat me.”

Her eyebrows rose almost to her hairline. “Next time?”

“There’s next week’s book selection. I may need more tutoring.” He smiled. “By the way, what is next week’s Jane Austen book club pick?”

“You’re in for a treat.”

He got a sinking feeling.

“Another classic, Sense and Sensibility.” She batted those fabulous blue eyes at him. “You’ll have fun explaining to the group which you like better.”

Charlie slid out of the booth, the bill in his hand. “From your tone it sounds as if you’re assuming I won’t like Sense and Whatever.”

She scrambled after him. “My point, I believe.”

“Forget male pride. It’s your own female prejudice that makes you think guys can’t enjoy Jane Austen.” He laughed. “Did you catch what I did there?” He stuck his thumbs into his duty belt. “Pride...and prejudice...”

The staid librarian rolled her eyes.

“And there’s one other reason guys should read Jane Austen.”

She reached for her purse. “What’s that?”

He stuck a toothpick into the corner of his mouth. “It proves men and women can be friends.”

She planted her hand on her hip. “You got that from Pride and Prejudice?”

He twirled the toothpick between his thumb and index finger. “I think underneath the witty banter, the reason the chemistry worked between Elizabeth and Darcy was because they valued each other as friends first and foremost.”

Charlie shuffled his feet. “Maybe we can be friends, Miss Shaw.”

She tilted her head. “You think because I’m new here, I don’t have any friends?”

He remained silent, caught by the blond tips of her ponytail brushing across her shoulders.

She grimaced. “You wouldn’t be far wrong.” She extended her hand. “Call me Evy.”

He reached for her hand. “Evy it is.”

And she snatched the bill from him. With a triumphant glance over her shoulder, she marched toward the register. Where she proceeded to pay for both their meals while conducting a conversation with the cashier in a tongue he presumed to be Mandarin or Cantonese.

Middle English. Probably French. And now Mandarin?

Charlie held the door for her as they exited and shook his head.

Wow...not only out of his league. More like out of his galaxy.

Clapping his hat onto his head, he escorted her to the parking lot.

She dug through her purse, searching for her keys. “You don’t have to wait for me.”

“A Southern gentleman always waits. And it’s been fun.” Surprised, he realized it had been fun. With no urgent call from Dispatch, he found himself wishing dinner hadn’t had to end.

Finding her key ring, she held it up for him to see. “I look forward to hearing more of your Jane Austen insights at book club.”

“You and me both.”

She laughed.

He scrubbed his hand over his face. “What I meant to say was, I look forward to seeing you Thursday, too.”

And he did. He’d not imagined the quiet librarian would be such good company. Or so entertaining. She was easy to be with. Despite her enormous brain, Evy Shaw wasn’t pretentious.

Clicking the key fob, she unlocked her car and got inside. With a small backhanded wave, she pulled out of the parking lot and drove off into the sunset. He watched her taillights turn south on Highway 13 toward Miss Pauline’s.

What was the elusive Evy Shaw after here in good ole Kiptohanock? But recon mission accomplished, he’d managed to learn enough background to call on one of his PI buddies from California who owed Charlie a favor.

His shoulder mic squawked. He responded and jogged toward his cruiser. As he headed to investigate a reported prowler, he reflected that his unofficial undercover assignment might not be so unpleasant after all.

Who’d have guessed Jane Austen could grow on a guy?

Chapter Three

Getting ready for book club on Thursday night, Evy glanced at the clock more than once. And for the fifth time, she made a minute adjustment to the way the tablecloth hung on the refreshment table. As if Charlie Pruitt would care.

The ladies—if not Charles Everett Pruitt the Third—should have been here by now. Everyone must be running late.

She plucked a pillow from the sofa in the circle of armchairs. Despite their tête-à-tête over Chinese food, she didn’t think Charlie would actually show up to book club. But as she counted down the minutes, the dread—and anticipation—mounted. Her gaze flitted to the clock again.