Page 18 of Falling

I blinked up at him. “You’re Ward’s husband?”

This time, the smile he broke into was different. Softer, warmer. So sincere it made me fall a little in love with Ward because I could see how much love was behind it.

I stood by my position that he was a good actor, but I’d never seen him smile like that on screen.

“Oh.” Ryder blinked back at me. “So you know me because, umm…” He scratched the back of his neck.

“Of your previous work, yeah,” I admitted. “I promise not to be weird about it. Well. I promise to be as minimally weird about it as I’m capable of being. For the record, I think you’re great.”

“Really?” Ryder asked, brows rising toward his perfect hairline. Not fishing for compliments. Genuinely surprised.

I shrugged. “Well, yeah. I’m not a great film connoisseur or anything, but I dunno. I just always felt like I connected to your characters. Anyway. It’ll never come up again. Promise.”

“It’s fine,” Ryder said, smile back in place. “That library card?”

“Oh, right.” Heat rose to my face as I turned back to the computer and pulled up the form. It was short, just a couple of questions, and Ryder answered them for me clearly and without hesitation. With the confidence of an actor, I supposed.

“Ward said you were writing romance novels?” I asked as I looked over his stack of books, handing him the card the little printer—thankfully operational today—had spit out. Romance novels made all the sense in the world. He’d played the lead in enough romantic dramas and comedies to know them inside and out.

“Write what you know, right?” He grinned at me.

“Put me down to read it,” I said.

“Seriously?” he asked. “You… read romance novels?”

“Secret Austen fan,” I admitted. It wasn’t something I normally told people—not because I was ashamed, but because they never seemed to know what to do with that information—but I thought Ryder would appreciate it. “I mean, I just… love books, y’know?”

Ryder looked around the library with a wry smile. “Something about you made me think you probably did,” he said. “Well, congratulations on volunteering. Can I drop the first few chapters by later? I’d actually love a second opinion from someone who isn’t, y’know. Married to me.”

Wow. Had I just made another friend?

Was it that easy? All my life I’d never felt like anyone particularly wanted to be around me unless Evie was there. Evie wasn’t here now, and people… seemed to want to be around me.

“Uh. Sure, obviously,” I said. “I think that’s what librarians are for?”

Ryder laughed. “I think you’re just supposed to stop the books from escaping? But I’m not going to say no to the help.”

I wanted to say something else but out of the corner of my eye I could see a preschooler tugging on a bookshelf that was wobbling more than I thought was safe.

“I, uh…” I began, gesturing over at the developing situation.

“Go,” Ryder said while I practically vaulted over the desk, heading for the Young Adult shelving with my heart in my throat. “Thank you!”

“What happened to you?” Booker asked as he appeared from the back room while I was halfway through a bowl of chili-garlic noodles Andre had called a panacea. I was currently inclined to agree.

“Is there still glue in my hair?” I asked, shooting a look at Andre. Okay, he had all the Southern charm in the world and he was obviously a talented cook, but he could have told me.

“Is it glue?” Booker asked, bending over the bar to get a look at me. “There’s a bruise there, you look like you got into a fight.”

“I did,” I said wryly. “With a preschooler. And she won.”

Booker stared at me.

I shrugged. “I told you, I’m not cut out for public librarianship. This was a mistake. I applied for eight more jobs this afternoon and now I’m here eating my own weight in carbs—which are amazing by the way—because…”

Because this place feels safe, I didn’t say. I supposed it was because it was a gay bar, and gay bars were meant to be havens. Not necessarily for me, but I only ever went out with Evie and her friends. That was always to, if not actual gay bars, queer-friendly places. I always felt like it didn’t matter who I was or what I was like in them. They were the only places that ever felt that way.

Faith felt familiar.