The Mighty Quinns: Mac

Her teenage years had been lonely at best. She’d been diagnosed with scoliosis at age thirteen and had worn a back brace through most of high school. Burdened also with massive orthodontia and a bad case of acne, she hadn’t been the most attractive option for a prom date. Just months after the brace came off, her mother had been diagnosed with cancer and Emma’s attention had turned to nursing her. There’d never been time to date, and without dating—and living in a small town—sex had become an unreachable goal. Now, after all these years of chastity, she felt vulnerable, unprepared for a relationship. She had no idea how to talk to boys or flirt. She still felt like the girl with the back brace and the pimples.

She’d always taken solace in her studies, graduating at the top of her high school class. After high school came college and grad school. She’d lived at home, for both convenience and cost, and so she could watch over her mother’s care.

Four years ago, she’d finished her masters in information sciences and been offered the head librarian’s job at the small library in town. Though she’d always dreamed about leaving town and starting life somewhere new, Emma stayed to see her mother though the last stages of her illness.

The people of San Coronado had always stood behind her and her mother, Elaine. Elaine had been a beloved kindergarten teacher at the local school and everyone had known her. During her illness, there’d been lots of volunteers who’d arranged fund-raisers—spaghetti dinners and bake sales and benefit concerts—all to help with her mother’s medical costs. A prayer circle had spent two hours a week praying for her recovery. How could Emma refuse the job and a chance to return something to the community that had given her mother so much love and attention?

So she’d thrown herself into her work, completely updating the library’s catalog system, rearranging the floor plan and adding new programs for children and seniors. And though her mother had urged her to get out and socialize, it was easier to just work into the late hours and then flop into bed when she got home.

She’d had dreams once. She and her mother had always talked about traveling together, taking the summer to see exotic places. They’d pored over travel books and planned itineraries, keeping their notes in leather-bound journals.

New Zealand, Indonesia, Portugal, Finland, Costa Rica. Lists of things to see and do, places to eat. Even during the worst of her mother’s illness, they’d kept at it, as if the work held some magic cure.

And once it was clear there would be no cure, her mother made her promise that she’d find a way to go on her own. She’d save her money and buy a ticket to one of the places that had fascinated them both.

As for her lack of social life, that had really been her own fault. After her mother’s death, she’d given herself the chance to grieve. It had been easy to shut herself in the house and avoid people. The more time that passed, the more overwhelming getting back out there became. She pushed aside thoughts of a social life to focus entirely on a rigorous work schedule. But now, she felt as if the world had passed her by.

There were a few available men left in town and at least one of them was interested. But trying to start a relationship underneath a microscope was daunting. Everyone seemed a bit too invested in her happily-ever-after.

“I know how difficult it’s been on you,” Trish said.

“I’m not complaining,” she said, shaking her head. “I’m a lucky woman. I have a wonderful job and a wonderful best friend. I don’t need anything else.”

“Yes, you do!” Trish cried. “You need to feed your soul and your heart. You need passion in your life. And a few really good orgasms. I think this Mac guy is the answer to all your problems.”

“Let’s say I do decide that I want to pursue something...carnal with Mac,” Emma said. “I have to be ready to do it. I mean, it could happen quickly, right? Sometimes, the passion is so overwhelming you just can’t help yourself.”

“Sometimes,” Trisha agreed.

“So, I should buy some sexy underwear and do the whole wax thing. And a mani and a pedi. I’ll get my hair cut, too, so I don’t look like a demented bear the morning after. Oh, and I have to be ready to provide breakfast if he stays the night. I’ll have to plan a menu. And I probably should brush up on...you know...sex.”

“How are you going to do that?”

“We have a whole section of books in the library in our self-help section. They’re quite informative. I expect he’s going to be good at it, so I’d like to return the favor.”

“There is a possibility that you might be overanalyzing this,” Trish said. “I’ll be honest with you, once you start taking off your clothes, there’s not a lot of time to think.”

“Great advice,” Emma murmured. She reached out and restarted the car, then pulled it back out onto the road. She gripped the wheel with white-knuckled fingers, her mind spinning with the possibility that her long ordeal might be over soon.

There were some women who chose to be virgins until they married. But Emma knew she’d never marry. And sex was something that she wanted to experience, a simple human need that had to be satisfied.

“There is another option,” Trisha said. “I was reading an article a couple weeks ago about a brothel in Nevada that had men on the menu. You could always pay for it. For the right price, I bet Joey would consider it.”

“You’re offering up your husband?” Emma asked.

“Not to you,” Trish said. “Besides, you’re looking for a perfect male specimen, not a guy with a furry chest and the body of a teddy bear.” She shrugged. “What can I say? I find the man incredibly sexy. And he’s always been so enthusiastic in the sack. And he’s got the goods.”

“Thank you for your generous offer, but I’m going to have to refuse. But I will buy you lunch.”

As they drove toward town, past pastures and vast irrigated fields, the windows of the car open to the afternoon breeze, Emma felt happy, as if the future had suddenly opened up in front of her. There weren’t many days when she didn’t think about the lack of passion and adventure in her life. But today, she was different. There was an excitement that burned inside her...a delicious anticipation that her life was about to change.

* * *

MAC STARED UP at the facade of the San Coronado Public Library. A bronze plaque beside the door designated the neoclassical building as an Andrew Carnegie library, one of over a thousand built by the wealthy industrialist in the early part of the twentieth century in small towns all over the US.

Though he’d been asking J.J. about Emma since he’d met her the day before yesterday, the most he’d been able to pull out of the other man was that she was the town librarian and that everyone loved her. He didn’t really need much more. She’d most likely be inside and when she saw him, they’d talk.

He smoothed his hand through his hair, then took the steps two at a time. As he opened the front door, two younger boys slipped inside before him and he noticed a crowd gathered in the lobby. Mac had expected a quiet interior where people spoke in hushed tones. But instead, the place was bustling with noise and activity.

Scattered about was a display of model cars and trucks, made from the kits he’d enjoyed as a kid. Mac smiled as he wandered around the room, remembering the times he’d spent meticulously piecing each model together, then painting it. It was one of the after-school activities at the local Boys and Girls Club. After the disappearance of his parents, he’d been put into the foster care program and had spent most afternoons at the club, finishing his homework and working on models with a few friends.

The models had kept him off the streets and out of the gangs. And when he finished one, he’d gather up the money he made on his paper route and buy another. They’d been stacked from floor to ceiling in their boxes, tucked inside his closet.

On the day he’d turned eighteen, he’d packed his bags and walked away from foster care, leaving the cars and the memories of his boyhood behind. In a single day, he’d become a man, wholly responsible for his own life. He could no longer busy himself with childish things.

He’d found a job, a cheap room at a local boardinghouse and had begun his life, scraping together money for flying lessons and a few classes on engine repair. He taught himself to weld and though he couldn’t afford college, he’d gotten a library card and begun to educate himself.

“It’s a ’57 Chevy! Not a ’56. See?”

He glanced down at a young boy who was pointing at a model. “You’re right. You can tell by the trim. But I prefer the ’56. There’s just something about it. The softer fin or the trim piece that curves down.”

The little boy smiled. “I prefer it, too.”

“We both have excellent taste.” Mac winked at him, then moved on through the crowd to the circulation desk. He scanned the counter for Emma’s pretty face, but didn’t find her. He decided to get a library card first and make a casual inquiry about Emma at the same time.

“I’d like to get a library card,” he said to the woman at the front desk.

“Do you have identification?”

“I do, but it doesn’t have my local address on it.”

“Do you have a utility bill or something to prove you’re a resident of San Coronado?”

“I don’t,” he said.

“Anyone who could vouch for you?”

“Yes. Emma Bryant could. I understand she works here.”

The woman smiled. “She does.”

“Is she working today?”

“Yes, she’s downstairs in our archives cataloguing some items that were bequeathed to the library last week.”

Mac took the form. “I’ll just go get her signature and be right back.”

“Down the hall and through the door on the right, then down the stairs,” the librarian said.

As he followed the directions, Mac felt an odd rush of anticipation. Women had always been a commodity in his life. Though he appreciated each for their individual attributes, Mac found it difficult to make any long-lasting connections.

When the time was right, he made sure he was the one who walked away first. There had been a few women who had been difficult to leave, but he could never truly believe they had any kind of future together. Without trust, any deeper emotions were impossible.

He already knew ending things with Emma would be painful. He was already obsessed with her. She was unique, intriguing, wildly sexy and smart—a deadly combination. It would take a careful approach to charm her, a disciplined plan to hold her and every ounce of his determination to leave her.

The basement of the library was dark and musty and he followed the sound of music through the rows of shelves and storage cabinets. Finally, he reached a central area of tables illuminated by florescent lights. Mac stood in the shadows and observed her for a moment, taking in the scene in greater detail.

An old gramophone sat on one end of the table and it played a classical piece that sounded like a Mozart string quartet. Emma was seated with her back to him, her legs tucked up beneath her, her attention fixed on a paper she was reading.

The dark waves of her hair fell around her face and his fingers twitched as he imagined how it would feel to smooth a curl from her temple and tuck it behind her ear. He’d touched her once, when he’d held her hand, but it hadn’t been enough.

He’d known a lot of women whom he’d considered beautiful, Mac mused. But now, he realized that they hadn’t really been beautiful at all. They’d made themselves up to reflect what society considered beautiful—blond hair, full lips, high cheekbones, striking eyes.

As he looked at Emma, he saw something simpler, much more pure. There was no need for paint or artifice. It was all there in its natural form. A shiver skittered through his body and his breath caught in his throat.

Emma jumped, then turned around in her chair to find him watching her. She scrambled to her feet, dropping the letter on the table and struggling with the chair. “Wha-what are you doing here?”

“I didn’t mean to frighten you,” Mac said.

“You did! Why are you here?”

He held up the application for a library card. “I need you to sign this. I wanted to get a card but I don’t have the proper identification with me. If you vouch for me, they’ll give me one.”

“But I don’t know you.”

He grinned. “Sure you do. I’m the guy who’s working for Buddy while he recovers from his surgery.”

“And that’s all I know. That’s not enough to get you a library card. Where do you live?”

“Right now, I’m staying out at the hangar. But I’ve been trying to find a place in town.” That wasn’t exactly the truth, but it sounded good. He had a cot, a bathroom and a makeshift kitchen at the hangar. It was rent-free and enough to meet his needs.

“But where do you come from? Where do you live when you’re not here?”

Mac wished that he had a better story to tell her, but he’d accepted the reality of his life long ago. “The last time I had a permanent address was the day before my eighteenth birthday. That was nearly ten years ago. I suppose I could give you that address.”

“Where was that?”

“Boulder, Colorado. It’s where my foster parents live. At least it was. I haven’t talked to them since I left, so they might have moved.”

She gave him a grudging smile, then held out her hand. Emma grabbed the paper and signed the bottom. “Raise your hand and repeat after me.”

Mac did as he was told.

“I, Luke MacKenzie, promise to treat my library books with care, read them promptly and return them before the due date, so help me God.”

Chuckling, Mac repeated the promise and when he was finished, she handed him the paper. “Thanks,” he said.

“Is there anything I can help you find? What do you like to read? Besides Shakespeare.”

“I’ve been reading the biographies of the great explorers—Columbus, Marco Polo, Amundsen.”

“That sounds interesting.”

“What do you like to read?”

She took a moment to formulate an answer. “My favorite is true-life adventure. Climbing Everest and surviving in a life raft for seventy days. Books about people with daring and courage.”

“And do you have daring and courage?” he asked.

“No,” Emma said. “Quite the opposite. That’s why I find those books so fascinating.”

“Note to self,” he murmured. “Add more adventure to Marry-Me Emma’s life.”

She giggled softly and her cheeks turned a pretty shade of pink. “There’s a new biography of David Livingstone. If you haven’t read it, you should. I thought it was excellent.”

“Good. I’ll read it. And maybe we could get together and have coffee and talk about it.”

“Are you asking me on a date?”

Mac had never needed to clarify his intent when it came to women, but he wasn’t quite sure if coffee and a book discussion qualified as a date. “Would you consider that a date?” he asked.

Emma thought about her answer for a long moment. “Probably not.”

“What would I have to add to make it a real date?” Mac asked.

“Maybe dinner? Definitely dinner. And a movie? But we don’t have a theater in town, so dinner would be enough.”

She blushed more deeply and Mac could see that the question had flustered her. “Emma, would you like to go out to dinner with me?”

She drew in a sharp breath, then nodded her head. “Yes. Yes, that would be lovely. When?”

“Soon? But I’m probably going to need three or four days to finish the book.”

“Or I could recommend a shorter book,” she said.

“How about Saturday?”

“The Livingstone bio is about four hundred and fifty pages long, including the notes and index.”

“I’m a fast reader,” Mac assured her.

“It’s a date, then. Saturday night.”

Mac wanted to stay longer, to find an excuse to grab her hand or steal a kiss. But he had officially secured a date with Emma and, considering her unpredictable nature, he thought it best to leave while he was ahead. “I’m going to go now, before I find a way to screw this up. I’ll see you Saturday night.”

“Where?” she asked.

“Great question. Any thoughts?”

“I’ll pick you up at the hangar and we’ll decide then.”

She smiled and Mac felt his blood warm a few degrees. “Good idea.”

“Enjoy the book, Mac,” she murmured.

“See you Saturday, Emma,” he said.

As he walked back upstairs to the circulation desk, Mac smiled to himself. He’d managed to play that perfectly, yet he hadn’t a clue how it had all happened. When he’d set out to find her, he hadn’t been sure she’d agree to a date.

With the exception of their love of books, they had absolutely nothing in common. She was a homebody, content in a small town, living a small life. Her only adventures came from books. She’d put down roots and was a respected member of the community. Emma had history that included friends and family.

Mac had no roots, no family, no past. He’d spent his adult life drifting from place to place, taking work when he needed it. Everything he owned fit into his plane. His freedom was all he’d ever required in life. He had nothing to offer a woman like Emma.

So why was he so determined to charm her, Mac wondered. Did he see her as a challenge? Or did he want to experience just a tiny bit of the life he’d never had? Or was she just so amazing that he couldn’t help himself?

“It’s just a date. You’re not climbing Everest.”

It was only dinner, and yet somehow Mac felt that it was the start of so much more.

2

THE NORMALLY QUIET library came alive after school when students strolled through the front door and took their customary spots at the reading tables. The students who wanted to study usually chose to stay at the school library. But Emma had a loyal group of outsiders, kids who either weren’t comfortable at school or had been kicked out of the school library for bad behavior. The former she welcomed, the latter, she considered a challenge to be won over.

“Where are the books about T. rex?”

Emma smiled at Joey Hammersmith. “See that big green dino over there? Right underneath him.”

“Thanks!”

Joey ran off and her gaze fell on a young girl who’d been part of the after-school crowd for the past few months. She appeared to be about eleven or twelve and always sat at the same table, in the same chair. Emma caught her eye and smiled, but the girl quickly looked back down at her books.

“What time is your date tomorrow night?”

Trisha leaned over the counter and pulled out the lollipop container, grabbing a root beer-flavored sucker for herself. She held out the container to Emma. “Join me?”

“I’m on a diet,” Emma said. “I bought a new dress for the date and I—”

“Oh, is it a dress kind of date?” Trisha inquired. “I just assumed it would be a jeans date.”

Emma frowned. “Why would you think that?”

“I don’t know. Just from the way you described him. He seemed more like a casual kind of guy.”

“He didn’t really specify,” Emma said. “Crap, now I’m going to have to go buy a new pair of jeans. And stop eating completely for the next twenty-four hours.”

“Why don’t you just call him and ask?”

The idea of phoning him caused a flood of nerves. There was something about Luke MacKenzie that turned her into a stammering schoolgirl. And now that she’d decided he was going to be “the one,” she couldn’t think about him without picturing the guy naked and lying in her bed.

“Maybe I should just go with a casual skirt and sweater,” Emma decided. “It will be appropriate for either kind of date. And I won’t have to diet at all.” She grabbed the lollipop container and fished out a raspberry pop. “Did you stop by just to make me nervous?”

“Of course not,” Trisha said. She studied her shrewdly. “So do you think you’re going to do it tonight?”

Emma groaned. “I don’t believe he’s a sleep-with-a-woman-on-the-first-date kind of guy. He seems very passionate, but he might also be a closet gentleman.”

“Just be careful, Em.”

“I bought condoms.”

“That’s not the kind of careful I was talking about. This is a small town full of gossips, and you know how people feel about you. If you start romping about with some stranger, people are going to talk. Especially those ladies on the library board.”

“Don’t worry about me. Besides, it’s not as if we’re going to have a relationship or anything,” Emma said. “Can I do anything for you?”

“I need Keats. Every book of his poetry that you have on the shelf.”

“You know where that section is,” she said. Trisha was about to leave when Emma called her name and motioned her closer. “See that girl over there? With the blond hair and the red sweater?”

Trisha glanced in the direction of Emma’s gaze and nodded. “Lily. Lily Harper. She’s a foster child with Dave and Denise Prentiss. I’ve heard they’re planning to adopt her.”

“She’s here every day after school. And she always sits alone. Doesn’t she have any friends?”

Trisha shook her head. “I don’t think so. She’s bounced around a lot from what I’ve heard.”

“What happened to her parents?”

“I’m not sure. She’s not from around here, and she doesn’t talk about herself.”

“She seems so sad. And she never checks anything out. She pulls books from the shelves and reads them here, but never takes anything home.”

Emma felt a sort of kinship with the little girl. She understood how it felt to be an outsider. After the brace and the acne, her friends had started to distance themselves from her and she’d been alone. Books had become her best friends and she’d lived through the characters she loved. They had wonderful friends who shared amazing adventures.

“Are we still going to the flea market tomorrow?” Trisha asked.

“Why wouldn’t we?”

“I thought you might want the time at home before your big date.”

“I’d just spend the time obsessing over it. I need distractions.”

“Then I’ll pick you up at nine,” she said. “But right now I have to go find my books and then I’m going to pick up a very large pizza for dinner. When are you done with work? Do you want to join us?”

“I close tonight. But let’s stop for breakfast on the way to the flea market. At that pancake place.”

“So much for the diet.”

“I’m wearing a skirt, remember. I think I’ll be safe.”

While Trisha went upstairs to find her books, Emma walked over to the young adult section and found one of her favorite books. She slowly approached Lily, then slid the book across the table. “Have you read this series?” she asked.

Lily stared at the book, then shook her head. “I-Is it good?”

She risked a look up and Emma nodded. “It was one of my favorites when I was your age. And you can take it home to read. I can get you a library card.”

The girl shook her head. “I’ll read it here,” she murmured.

“All right. But I’d still like to give you a library card. It’s free. Then, if you decide you want to take something home you can.”

Lily shrugged. “Okay. Thanks.”

“I’ll have it waiting at the desk. You can pick it up before you leave.”

“Do you know my name?”

“It’s Lily Harper. You live with the Prentiss family.”

Lily nodded again, her gaze falling to the book that Emma had offered her. “Yeah,” she murmured. “1810 Birch Street.”

“If you’d like me to find more books for you, just tell me what you enjoy reading and I can make some suggestions.”

“Okay,” she said.

“I’m usually here after school. But if I’m not, you can leave me a note.”

She was filling out the forms for Lily’s library card when a bouquet of flowers appeared in front of her computer screen. Emma turned to find Mac grinning at her. “Hello,” she said.

“Hi.”

Emma took the bouquet. “What are you doing here?”

“I just thought I’d stop in and firm up our plans for tomorrow night. Get some suggestions on where you might want to go for dinner. And see if you have any opinions on Oklahoma.”