It's Never too Late - By Tara Taylor Quinn Page 0,21

at Barney Fife’s antics, mere hours before.

“Nothing, why?” she asked, conscious of guarding Adrianna Keller’s secrets—and Will Parsons’s.

“You seemed to be having trouble. I heard you ask to see the manager. So I waited.”

Maybe she was still vulnerable from the night before, or maybe Mark Heber was just a genuinely good guy, but Addy was touched by his concern.

And bothered, too. She was there to work while living a lie. She couldn’t encourage friendship.

But she also had to try to fit in—and a new student in town would be eager to make friends....

“One of the books I need is in ebook format only.” She couldn’t believe the ease with which the lie escaped her lips. “I prefer print and was checking to see if there was a print-on-demand option.”

“Is there?” He stepped closer to her to avoid colliding with a group of young guys going in the opposite direction. Addy felt the brush of his arm as acutely as if he’d just kissed her.

Books. He asked about books. “Yes.” A pair of girls were coming toward them. One had tattoos all the way down her arm. Addy focused on the tattoos. “It’ll take a few days, though.”

He reached for her bag of books. “Are you headed to your car?” he asked. “I can get these for you.”

She could carry her own books, but she gave up her bag. “Yeah. How about you?”

“I’ve got a break, two afternoon classes and then I’ve got to go to work.”

He had a backpack slung over one shoulder. No bookstore bag. But she’d seen him in the scholarship line. It didn’t surprise her that he’d won a scholarship.

Only that he’d applied for one, if what Nonnie had said was true and he was in Shelter Valley only because she’d blackmailed him.

The man was occupying far too many of her thoughts. She needed to focus them elsewhere so she could free Will and get out of town. But Mark smelled musky and masculine and...

“You don’t have any books.” She didn’t know what else to say.

“I prefer ebooks.” He shrugged, grinned and then said, “And I just found out this morning that my scholarship provides for a tablet to read them, too. You’re talking to the owner of a brand-new seven-inch e-reader. Not quite an iPad, but it’s still pretty cool.”

He sounded like a deep-voiced kid at Christmas. He was smiling broadly as they walked across the campus, the sun shining warmly down on them. Addy wondered if he liked Christmas, if he and Nonnie celebrated in a big way. She wanted to tease him about his obvious affection for electronic devices. But she was there to work.

Period.

“Your grandmother said something about blackmailing you to go to college,” she said, even though she knew that she should be taking back her bag of books and getting the heck away from him. “Was that just B.S.?”

“Nope.” His smile faded a little. “She did.”

“But you seem happy to be here.”

“Yeah, well, that’s the hard truth about Nonnie. She mouths off, but she’s generally right.”

Oh, God. She was liking this man more and more. Getting herself all twisted up when she absolutely shouldn’t.

And still she smiled again. “So, what, you applied for scholarships hoping you wouldn’t win any so you could be off the hook?” Or he’d applied because he actually wanted to attend college to begin with—which Nonnie had probably known and that knowledge had been the basis for her blackmail scheme.

Addy had it all worked out. Like she knew the two of them that well. And had any business at all speculating about them.

Or caring about them in any way.

“I didn’t apply,” Mark said.

“Then who did?”

“My guess is Nonnie,” Mark said, stepping down off the curb as they reached the lot where she’d parked her car. “She insists that she didn’t, but there’s no other explanation. It was crazy. I came home from work one day and there’s this letter in the box addressed to me. Nonnie acted like she knew nothing about it. I opened it and it’s this packet of papers telling me that I’m a scholarship recipient, giving me details of the award in terms of financials and including forms I had to fill out to accept the offer.”

“No explanation of where the money’s coming from or on what basis you earned the scholarship?”

“No.”

They’d reached her car. “And Nonnie won’t admit she applied, even now that you’re here?” She unlocked the door and swung it open.

“She’s too stubborn to admit she lied.” With a hand