The Deputy's Perfect Match. Lisa Carter
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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