back just begging for people to use them. She’d gotten the computer skills teacher’s name from one of her regular patrons here, and she’d practically begged Mr. Montgomery over the phone to take the job.
“The class runs from today to next Thursday. It’s aimed toward people sixty-five and over,” she told the man standing across from her, briefly meeting his eyes and then looking away. “But you’re welcome to attend, of course.” Although she doubted he’d fit in. He appeared to be in his early thirties, wore dark clothes, and looked like his idea of fun might be adding a tattoo to the impressive collection on his arms.
Paris cleared his throat. “Unless I’m mistaken, I am the instructor,” he said. “Paris Montgomery at your service.”
“Oh.” She gave him another assessing look. She’d been expecting someone…different. Alice Hampton had been the one to recommend Paris. She was a sweet old lady who had sung the praises of the man who’d rented the room above her garage last year. Lacy never would’ve envisioned the likes of this man staying with Mrs. Hampton. “Oh, I’m sorry. Thank you for agreeing to offer some of your time to our senior citizens. A lot of them have expressed excitement over the class.”
Paris gave a cursory glance around the room. “It’s no problem. I’m self-employed, and as I told you on the phone, I had time between projects.”
“You’re a graphic designer, right?” she asked, remembering what Alice had told her. “You created the designs for the Sweetwater Bed and Breakfast.”
“Guilty. And for a few other businesses in Sweetwater Springs.”
Lacy remembered how much she’d loved the designs when she’d seen them. “I’ve been thinking about getting something done for the library,” she found herself saying.
“Yeah? I’d be happy to talk it over with you when you’re ready. I’m sure we can come up with something simple yet classy. Modern. Inviting.”
“Inviting. Yes!” she agreed in a spurt of enthusiasm before quickly feeling embarrassed. But that was her whole goal for the library this year. She wanted the community to love coming in as much as she did. As a child growing up, the library had been her haven, especially during those years of being bullied. The smell of books had come to mean freedom to her. The sound of pages turning was music to her ears.
“Well, I guess I better go set up for class.” Paris angled his body toward the computer room. “Five minutes early is bordering on late, right?” he asked, repeating her words and making her smile.
He was cool, gorgeous, and charming—a dangerous combination.
* * *
Paris still wasn’t sure why he’d agreed to this proposition. It paid very little, and he doubted it would help with his graphic design business. The librarian had been so insistent on the phone that it’d been hard to say no to her. Was that the same woman who’d blushed and had a hard time making eye contact with him just now? She looked familiar, but he wasn’t sure where or when they’d ever crossed paths.
He walked into the computer room in the back of the library and looked around at the laptops set up. How hard could it be to teach a group of older adults to turn on a computer, utilize the search engine, or set up an email account? It was only two weeks. He could handle that.
“You’re the teacher?” a man’s voice asked behind him.
Paris whirled to face him. The older man wore a ball cap and a plaid button-down shirt. In a way, he looked familiar. “Yes, sir. Are you here for the class?”
The man frowned. “Why else would I ask if you were the teacher?”
Paris ignored the attitude and gestured to the empty room. “You have your pick of seats right now, sir,” Paris told him. Then he directed his attention to a few more seniors who strolled in behind the older man. Paris recognized a couple of them. Greta Merchant used a cane, but he knew she walked just fine. The cane was for show, and Paris had seen her beat it against someone’s foot a couple of times. She waved and took a seat next to the frowning man.
“Paris!” Alice Hampton said, walking into the room.
He greeted her with a hug. After coming to town last winter and staying at the Sweetwater B&B for a week, he’d rented a room from Alice for a while. Now he had his own place, a little cabin that sat across the river.
All in all, he