“She’s a children’s librarian,” Mimi piped up. Turning to Darcy, she announced, “Clive is a compulsive reader, too.”
Darcy usually kept her distance from summer people. Okay, “keeping her distance” was the wrong phrase, because the houses, like all Nantucket houses in town, were built close together. But Darcy tried to be friendly, yet reserved. It was a necessity for self-protection. She had a life. Her schedule was full. She was not, like the summer people, on vacation.
Still, if Clive asked Darcy to spend an evening with Mimi so he could go out to a movie or a party, Darcy wouldn’t mind doing it. Mimi was adorable, and Darcy would bet she knew a lot of Nantucket history.
“Nice to meet you, Mimi, Clive.” With one last smile at Mimi, Darcy turned away.
Few Nantucket houses had lawns in the front. Most houses bordered right on the sidewalk, as Darcy’s did, which was a wonderful thing, because in just a few seconds, she walked up her front steps and entered her house.
She headed into the kitchen and poured herself a glass of the iced tea she kept in the refrigerator. The cold liquid was bracing, but Darcy wanted a drink. She preferred a glass of red wine while she cooked or when she was settled in front of the fire with a good book on a snowy winter night, but tonight, for some reason, Darcy wanted to drink with a friend.
She also wouldn’t mind showing Mimi and her grandson that she wasn’t some spinster librarian bowled over by Clive’s good looks.
Muffler jumped off the kitchen counter and sauntered up to her, purring and waving his long soot-black tail.
“Yes,” Darcy said to Muffler. “You’re right. I may be a spinster librarian with a cat but I’ve got a gorgeous hunk of a lover.”
She called Nash. “Come over for a drink?”
“I’m there.”
Nash was a man of few words. Easygoing, a hiker, a traveler, a new guy in town, unattached and untethered to the usual duties and expenses of men his age. He said he’d come to Nantucket because the money was great and he liked construction work. Darcy suspected there was more to his story, but she didn’t pry. Nantucket was a prime spot for people to invent themselves. He would tell her when he was ready.
Nash drove a red 2016 Super Duty Platinum Ford truck and would arrive straight from work, wearing jeans, a T-shirt, and work boots. When he roared onto her street, any neighbors who happened to look would know that a world-class hunk was in her life.
She’d met Nash earlier in the year, at a St. Patrick’s Day party thrown by the group that Jordan and her contractor husband, Lyle, hung out with. When Darcy saw him, she got that swooning physical hit that had stopped her in her tracks the way her first sight of Boyz had. She hadn’t felt that for a man since she’d met Boyz, and she wasn’t sure whether that was a good sign or bad. That day had been rainy, so they couldn’t cook out, and as often happened at these parties, the women hung with the women and the men with the men. Nash hadn’t spoken to her that day, but he’d caught her eye and smiled.
Nash didn’t approach her at any of the other casual get-togethers during that cold wet spring. Darcy hadn’t spoken to him, either, which was strange. She would only have had to walk across the room with a platter of deviled eggs to start a conversation. It was the crowd, she realized, the gang. All good-natured, no malice among them, but they all, man and woman, noticed when a couple hooked up. That she was even thinking about this made her aware of her interest in the tall, sandy-haired man.
It had been a long time since she’d gone to bed with a man.
She’d never been one to make the overtures, but one exceptionally warm and bright Sunday afternoon in May at the group’s first beach party of the year, she chugged some beer and swallowed her pride and crossed the sand to speak to him. He was leaning over the tailgate of his truck, reaching for beach chairs.
“Hey,” she said.
“Hey,” he answered.
And then they both were speechless, staring at each other, the physical attraction between them so powerful it was as if they’d stepped into a force field.
Nash cleared his throat and spoke. “I’m Nash Forester.” Before she could speak, he said, “And you’re Darcy Cotterill. You’re thirty, divorced, and a librarian. Unattached at the moment, though only heaven knows why.”
She blushed. “This group! They probably told you my IQ and weight.”
“Actually, no. But if you’re a librarian, you’re plenty smart, and I can guess at a glance that you’re light enough that I could pick you up and throw you over my shoulder without getting out of breath.”
The very thought of this man even touching her flooded her cheeks with a deep blush. Fighting for a pittance of dignity, she cocked her head. “And you’re new to the island, working as a carpenter, good with tools, and I’m pretty sure if I invited you to dinner, you’d like my lasagna.”
Well! she congratulated herself. You just hit on a man. It seemed like her hormones were up and running again.
Nash grinned. “I’m pretty sure if you served me a bowl of cereal, I’d be happy.”
From behind them, Lyle bellowed, “Hot dogs are ready! Burgers! Get ’em while they’re hot!”
“Hungry?” Darcy asked.
“Yeah.” He had a crooked grin. “Before we plunge back into the crowd, let me ask if you’re busy next Saturday night.”
“No, I’m not busy.” None of this “let me check my calendar” stuff. If she had something on her calendar, she’d cancel it.
“Good. Let me take you out to dinner.”
“I’d like that.”
Karl Ledbetter yelled, “Darcy! Nash! Stop flirting and get over here before all the food’s gone!”
Darcy turned, keeping her face down, in case she was still glowing like a teenager on her first date. Beside her, Nash muttered, “Just like high school.”
After that, they didn’t have a chance to be alone. Eloise and Mac announced that they were expecting a baby and everyone cheered. When Darcy left, she searched the crowd. Nash was talking to a group of men, but he had his eye on her. She waved. He waved. She felt like a Disney heroine about to burst into song.
—
The next morning, as she walked to work, she called Jordan from her cellphone to tell her she had a date with Nash.
“Oh, man,” Jordan moaned. “He is so hot. Listen, you stay home with Kiks and I’ll go in your place.”
Darcy laughed. “Yeah, Lyle would go for that.”
“Lyle who?” Jordan joked.
All that day, as she worked in the library, her mind wandered back to that moment on the beach. To Nash’s smile. His blue eyes. His deep voice.
The next afternoon, she carried some books that had been left on the children’s librarian’s desk across to the adult library.
At first, she thought she was hallucinating. Nash was standing in the new nonfiction section, pulling a book off the shelf.
Had he come here to see her? Darcy shook her head. Of course not—she was expecting way too much too soon.
Nash lifted his head and saw Darcy. He smiled that smile.