“Writer’s block?”
Sydney jumped when she heard Matthew Stone’s voice. She glanced up and saw him smiling at her. Sydney’s heart started to race. Keep it together, she warned herself, but there was something about Matthew that made her forget how to act like a normal human being.
When she first met him months ago, she couldn’t believe he was the interim mayor for Seedling. He was young, vibrant and sexy. He was always dressed in flannel shirts, faded jeans and boots, as if he was ready to work the land in his family’s orchard, and she soon realized it was because he didn’t need to wear suits to impress people. Mayor Matthew Stone had a commanding presence. People, mostly women, gravitated to him.
“Hi, Matthew.” She felt her face turn bright red. “Uh...how much did you hear?”
His smile widened.
“It’s a writing challenge,” she answered weakly. Sydney tried not to notice the interest in his warm brown eyes. “It’s... Never mind.”
“Too bad I can’t help.”
Sydney’s heart knocked hard on her chest. What was he suggesting? She had to be completely misreading his offer. Not that she didn’t wish he would offer himself up to research—she had the sense that one brief encounter with him would make her forget her previous boyfriends. But a guy as gorgeous and sexy as Matthew would not be interested in her. Unless he had an ulterior motive. She had learned that the hard way.
“I’ve been meaning to ask you,” Matthew said. Her skin tingled at his low, rough voice. He rested his hand on the back of her chair and leaned forward.
Matthew towered over her. Surrounded her. He blocked out the world around them and yet she wished he’d move closer. She wanted to inhale his scent and feel his warm skin graze hers. Have him whisper sweet promises in her ear.
“Yes?” she asked hoarsely. Was he going to ask her out? Sydney’s breath hitched in her throat as anticipation tightened in her chest. She hadn’t felt this jittery and excited in a long time. She knew if he asked she should decline. No way was she going to mix personal and professional relationships again, but she desperately wanted to go on a date with Matthew Stone.
She had always been drawn to Matthew, even when she had sworn off men altogether. She couldn’t ignore his lean, muscular body or the earthy sexuality that made her very aware of her delicate femininity. But it was more than that. He was an intriguing mix of gentleness and strength. He never raised his voice or showed force to get his way. He took care of the town with pride, confidence and a playful glint in his eyes.
“Matty?”
The gleam in Matthew’s eyes dimmed and he took a step back as a small, elderly woman approached him. Sydney saw frustration flicker across his face before he offered a polite smile to the woman.
Sydney recognized her as Doris Brown, a retired nurse who made it her business to know everything that went on in Seedling. “I’ve been looking all over for you, Little Matty Stone.”
Sydney dipped her head and chuckled. She wasn’t sure why the townspeople insisted on calling him “Little Matty.” With his broad chest, powerful legs and impressive height, there was nothing little about Matthew.
“I have a complaint with the mayor’s office.”
“Of course, Miss Doris. Let’s talk about it privately.” He nodded to Sydney. “I’ll see you later.”
“Later,” she promised, trying not to let her disappointment show as Matthew escorted the woman to the other side of the room.
“Hey, Sydney.” Her friend Laura sat down across from her at the table. “What are you doing at the library at this time of day? Oh, the fake diary, huh? How’s that going?”
With her shocking bright red hair and wild print shirt, Laura looked out of place in the old library building. “What are you doing here?”
“Completing my community service hours.” She leaned in closer and glanced at the writing with a giant X through it. “I guess Isabel was right.”
Sydney slapped the notebook closed. “This is just a rough draft.”
“Yeah, whatever.” Laura called out over her shoulder, “Hey, Isabel. Come over here. You gotta see this.”
Sydney heard the chorus of shushing as Isabel walked over to their table. “What’s going on?” she asked in her “please be quiet: this is a library” tone.
“Seems you won the bet.” Laura pointed at the notebook. “Sydney is having trouble writing a fake erotic diary.”
“It’s only been three days.” Three days? It seemed much longer since she’d declared she could write a few entries and make it sound authentic. “I think it’s the historical stuff that’s slowing me down.”