Sealed with a Kiss, Leeanna Morgan [black authors fiction .txt] 📗

John parked his car outside Bozeman Public Library. The brick and glass building looked tall and imposing against the winter sky.

Someone had cleared a path to the front entrance. Snow rose on either side of the concrete, creating an icy channel that only the foolhardy or desperate were willing to navigate. He didn’t have to think too hard about what one he would be.

It had been a long time since he’d been in the library. He didn’t know where he was going, or even if Rachel was inside. All he knew was that the drama club met here on Monday afternoons. He’d put two and two together and driven across town to offer her a job.

He stuck his hands in his jacket pockets and walked toward the library. The front doors opened and he stepped into the wide entranceway. A display of children’s art on the wall in front of him drew him forward. He glanced to his right and saw a row of bookshelves and two large, comfy chairs.

He walked through the open doorway and stood at the side of the room. Tall steel columns supported the exposed wooden beams of the ceiling. The architect had softened the use of metal with wood, mixing the two components cleverly. It was a space that people could spend time in and enjoy.

There were more chairs, a help desk, and more than one computer available for people to use. But he wasn’t here to look at the interior design. He was here to find Rachel.

“Can I help you?”

A woman in her late twenties stood beside him. She had the greenest eyes he’d ever seen. “I’m looking for the community room. Do you know where it is?”

She smiled and John realized he was frowning. “I haven’t been here for a few years,” he mumbled. It wasn’t much of an excuse, but she didn’t seem to mind.

“Don’t worry. We’re almost harmless.”

John didn’t know whether she was serious or joking. He looked at her name badge.

She held out her hand and smiled. “Erin Williams, Library Manager, at your service.”

He shook her hand. “John Fletcher.”

“Welcome to the library, John Fletcher. Come with me. I’ll take you to the community room.”

Erin walked into the corridor he’d just come from. But instead of turning left, she kept going straight ahead. “Are you here to collect your child from drama club?”

John shook his head. “I’ve come to see Rachel McReedy. She recommended the club for my daughter.”

“I don’t think you’ll be disappointed. It’s a great way for the children to be creative and learn to work together.” She held a door open for him. “They’re rehearsing for their Christmas play.”

He walked into the large room. Chaos surrounded him. In front of the windows overlooking the parking lot, a woman was listening to a group of children sing a Christmas carol. Their voices filled the room, bounced off the walls, and were being ignored by the other children.

“Rachel’s over there.” Erin pointed to the stage. “Enjoy drama club.”

She left the room and John’s gaze went back to Rachel. She had her back to him. Her arms were waving in the air and the children in front of her were following what she was doing. She stepped to the left. Half of the kids stepped to the left, the other half stepped to the right. They bumped bodies, laughed, then untangled themselves from each other.

Rachel turned around and showed them which way they needed to move. She smiled as she waved her arms in the air. She looked over her shoulder to make sure they were following her. When she was happy with what they were doing, she turned to look at the rest of the room and froze. Her gaze connected with his and her smile disappeared.

Not a good start.

She said something to a teenage boy standing with the group of kids. He stepped forward and took over from her. The kids went back to waving their arms in the air and stepping sideways as Rachel walked toward him.

He didn’t know if she realized just how pretty she was. She wasn’t reed thin or ultra curvy, she was somewhere in-between. Somewhere that looked great in jeans and a bright red sweater with snowflakes knitted into the design.

It had been so long since he’d been attracted to a woman, that he didn’t know where to look. She was still staring at him with a worried frown on her face. He took off his jacket and tried to look as though seeing her wasn’t a big deal. But it was. Maybe even bigger than he thought it would have been.

Rachel dodged a couple of children who were crawling across the floor. She said something to a group of girls with towels on their heads, then stopped in front of him. “Is Bella okay?”

Her blue eyes were worried. Something inside of him tightened, twisted, and left him spinning in mid-air.

“John?”

He cleared his throat, engaged his brain, and ignored his pounding heart. “Bella’s fine. Tank has taken her to the mall.”

“Who’s Tank?”

“He works with me.”

“Is that his real name?”

John moved his jacket into his other hand. “We were in the military together. It’s a name that stuck.” Tank wouldn’t appreciate him telling anyone the name he’d been born with. His new name was as much a part of his identity as the scars he wore. In some convoluted way, they’d both started over. They’d built lives that mixed the best of what they’d known with what they needed to do to survive.

Rachel winced when the Christmas choir screeched out a note that only angels should sing. “If Bella is all right, how can I help you?”

John thought about the list in his pocket, the reasons why asking Rachel to teach Bella was a good idea. She was waiting for him to say something, anything that would tell her why he was here.

He glanced across at the choir, then back at the stage. “I thought I’d check out the drama club. You said Bella might enjoy it.”

Rachel’s face relaxed into an easy smile. His heart sank.

“You’ve come at the right time. We’re getting ready for our Christmas play.” She pointed to the kids who were still crawling on the floor. “Over there are our nativity animals. Ruby, Clarissa, and Jason are going to be cows. Alexander and Oscar are the front and back end of a donkey, and Fleur is an owl.”

John watched Fleur extend her pretend wings. “I didn’t know they had owls in the barn where Jesus was born.”

Rachel shrugged her shoulders. “I don’t know either. But I don’t think