EVA

MOST DAYS MADE EVA FEEL like she was on top of the world. Others hit her like nine hardcover novels to the face.

Literally.

One moment, she had balanced herself on a rickety folding chair in the Havenwood Public Library's study room, defying gravity itself as she pulled a series of fantasy novels from the highest shelf. The next, all nine volumes flew at her face with the velocity of an explosive spell and sent her tumbling to the carpet with a thud.

As she lay sprawled on the ground with her favorite childhood books splayed in every direction, she met the concerned gaze of the ten-year-old boy hovering over her. She wanted to tell him the novels were enchanted by the malicious wizard in their pages—or, perhaps, she could have blamed the fumble on klutzy genes and a fair amount of bad luck. Any of those reasons would have been less embarrassing than admitting she'd dropped the stack while lost in a vivid daydream.

"Miss Hayle?" the boy asked, putting his hands on his knees as he bent down to examine her non-existent wounds. "Are you all right? Should I call an ambulance—"

"No, no, no." Eva sat up frantically and winced at the sharp pain sparking from her tailbone. "I just got... uh, woozy. That's all."

Turning to face the disaster of half-open books, she shoved each one into the boy's cardboard box before handing it back to him. He blinked in surprise at the weight in his hands.

"Isn't that kinda serious?" he said.

The way he stared into Eva's soul told her he wouldn't give up on the subject anytime soon. In fact, she was certain he would return in two months, buried in late fees that he would try paying off with the last two quarters from his allowance, and question her well-being again while she overrode the computer system so he could return the books at no cost. It was an eternal merry-go-round of debt and bartering, but one she couldn't help but forgive.

Eva racked her brain for an excuse. "Just a blood sugar thing. Nothing to worry about."

For a moment, she was convinced the young boy would stare her down until the library closed. His eyes bore into hers for the longest time before he nodded, seemingly satisfied with the fibbed response. After grinning down at his latest literary trove, he spun around and jaunted toward the circulation desk with a box almost bigger than himself.

The hushed tones of the library returned while she stood, patting her head to catch any auburn flyaways that had slipped from her French twist in the fall. She tucked the strands behind her ear and prayed no one would notice before she could scurry to the bathroom to secure them.

Trudging back down the aisle, Eva returned to where she had abandoned her library cart to help the boy retrieve his desired books. A stack of brand-new editions stared back, taunting her with their new book smell and unbent dust jackets. It had been months since they'd gotten clearance to buy such a large shipment, but while fresh reading material filled her with excitement, shelving each volume was draining.

She had no patience for something so mundane. Not that hour, not that day, and certainly not that entire week—which was why two carts had remained behind the circulation desk until the last possible moment, untouched and collecting dust. Mindless organization made Eva sneer on a good day, let alone when she'd much rather have been doing something else.

And on a good day, with her brain working in proper order, she would have heard footsteps approaching as she grabbed the cart handle.

"A blood sugar thing?"

The teasing voice nearly jolted her out of her skin. She whipped around to find herself staring up at a tall man, whose arms were crammed with two cups of coffee and a box of fresh donut holes. His cerulean eyes brimmed with mischief.

"Looks like I brought the right stuff," he said, nodding to the pastry box balanced precariously between his elbow and chest.

"Good lord, Jensen." She smacked his arm. "Don't give me a heart attack unless you want to put these books away after my funeral."

Jensen wrinkled his nose. "Yeah, no. I've still got the second cart to label."

"Then I'd suggest you get to it."

Eva yanked on her cart, filling the once-still air with its incessant squeaky wheels. But a sharp clang brought her gaze down to the metal folding chair blocking her path.

"Don't tell me you were standing on that death trap." Jensen kicked the chair aside. "One of us almost snapping our neck on that thing is enough."

The thought of his similar spill made Eva grimace. He hadn't been working at the library for more than a week when the head librarian had shipped him off to the romance nook to fix an overhead lamp, assuring Eva that it was a simple enough task for him to accomplish by himself. Five minutes later, the entire library had heard him take flight, slam full-force into a shelf, and bring dozens of Harlequins crashing down with him.

Eva tried to shake the memory. "How did you not break your neck?"

"I drink my milk."

"Good for you," Eva said. "At least all I'm walking away with is a sore tailbone and a bruised ego."

"You could've used the step ladder from the maintenance room."

"Six months together and you expect me to drag my butt to the other end of the building? I think not."

When she backed her cart past him, his broad shoulders shook in a stifled laugh. She tried to ignore him, twisting the cart around and pushing it out of the study room, only to hear his footsteps padding softly behind her.

Aside from their shoes tapping the carpet and the rhythmic squeal of the ancient book cart, the library was near silent. On the average evening, they would have had small groups from the local church sipping coffee in the back conference room or a handful of teenagers gossiping with their study pals in hushed voices. Or Eva's personal favorite: the occasional lost husband asking for computer access while his wife perused the romance section, sneaking another chapter of Fifty Shades of Grey from behind the tallest bookshelf.

People-watching had been Eva's favorite pastime even before her years at the library. Its charm was enhanced by the calm atmosphere, surrounded by thousands of books and the ever-present smell of their pages. Hushed tones and ample creativity-boosting scenarios from patrons created the perfect setting for her writer brain to thrive.

Behind the circulation desk, it was too easy to open a document and spend the slower days lost in her imagination.

The only distraction hindering her from writing at an even quicker pace sauntered past her to nudge open the swinging door of the circulation desk, holding it open with one leg so she could push her cart through.

Jensen had been the surprise she hadn't wanted, but never knew just how much she needed.

"They were out of pumpkin spice," he said, setting his armful of coffee and baked goods between their computers. "Hopefully, a french vanilla cappuccino will suffice."

"At this point, I'll drink motor oil if you add enough dirty beans to it."

Eva grabbed her cup the moment it hit the desk and took a careful sip. Sweet notes of vanilla melded with the bitter drink and lit her brain with caffeine-induced pleasure. Jensen chuckled while she made herself at home in a rolling computer chair, fully indulged in her large cup of heaven. With her favorite beverage in hand, the blissful silence enveloped her in its comforting grasp.

"Dead Man Walking: The Ultimate Guide to the Necromantic World?"

Even if she hadn't drained three cups of coffee prior, Jensen's words would have woken her in a flash. She swiveled her chair to find him bent over a second cart, leafing through the pages of a leather-bound book. Impish curiosity flashed across his eyes.

Pushing her feet off the carpet, she propelled her chair across the floor and snatched the book from his hands.

"That one wasn't meant for the cart." She peeked down at the page he'd left off on. "You picked a good chapter, though. I hear circle consecration is a fascinating read."

"I thought these books were for the library."

"They are." Eva set the book cover-down beside her keyboard and away from her friend's prying eyes. "I'm just reserving it first."

Jensen laughed dryly as he plopped into his own office chair. He reached for the box of donut holes and flicked open the flap.

"At least I know this is for book research and not my untimely demise," he said, retrieving two cinnamon sugar pastries from their cardboard prison. "After this morning, I figured I should bring coffee as a peace offering just in case."

Eva quirked a brow as he shoved the donut holes in his mouth. "What are you talking about?"

Mouth too full to speak, Jensen rolled his chair closer and shook her computer mouse. The screen woke to a sketchy forum and the title, written in bold at the top of the page, made her heart leap into her throat.

How to Commit Murder with Toothpicks.

Jensen swallowed his mouthful. With a waggle of his eyebrows, he leaned in enough for his musky cologne to overpower her senses. "You might want to close out your tabs when you walk away."

"And you might want to quit snooping before I use my research on you."

The sound of another person clearing their throat brought Eva's widening eyes to the other side of the circulation desk, where a middle-aged woman stood with her daughter. An entertained smile flickered across the thirteen-year-old's lips as she slid two paperbacks across the polished wood.

"Jade!" Eva put on her bravest face and brightest, most innocent voice before turning to the girl's mother. "Mrs. Singer! Good to see you again."

After elbowing Jensen in the ribs to make him slide away, she grabbed the books from the counter and flipped them over. Their worn covers sent excitement coursing through her veins.

"We finished your latest book last night," said Mrs. Singer. "It's wonderful to have such a creative author right here in Haven—"

"Does Themrys ever become canon?"

Jade's interruption made warmth creep into Eva's cheeks, spreading quickly to her ears until she was sure her entire head had become a ball of flame. A soft laugh from Jensen brought no comfort, and when she fired a pointed glare in his direction, he quickly averted his eyes to his snack.

When Eva turned back around, Jade had leaned so far over the counter that she thought the raven-haired girl would fling herself across it in an answer-driven frenzy.

"Come on!" Jade's dark eyes widened with excitement. "I won't tell anyone. It's gotta happen soon, right?"

"They've only had sexual tension for four books," Jensen muttered under his breath, low enough for only Eva to hear.

Eva was certain that everyone felt the heat radiating from her skin. She wanted nothing more than to fake a computer crash and call on the head librarian to "fix the issue" while she hid in the break room, clutching the cappuccino to her chest—but that excuse had come to a halt three months prior, when she had taken over as Mrs. Prescott's second-in-command. The stern woman wouldn't take kindly to excuses.

"A writer never reveals her secrets." Eva's voice came out in a much higher tone than she expected. "You'll find out how Thana and Emrys' story ends when the last book comes out."

"It'll actually answer everything? Like... everything?"

Eva rubbed the back of her neck. The only thing worse than her coworker whining about her characters' lack of intimacy was a theory-loving kid full of questions.

"What do you mean?" she asked, averting her eyes to check the books back in.

Jade scrunched up her nose. "Some of it doesn't match up. Like Thana's friend, Amaya? She's been popping in and out for every book, and we still don't know what she is or why she's there... and if Emrys is a Phoenix, why can't Thana touch him? Isn't he, like, immortal?"

As Eva struggled to untie the knot constricting her tongue, Mrs. Singer passed her an apologetic smile, but the squeaking of Jensen's chair only furthered her desire to disappear from the conversation. He leaned against the desk to rummage through his donut box again.

"You'll be more than satisfied," he said as he plucked another pastry from the box. "Eva's got an incredible ending on her hands... with toothpicks."

One swift kick to the shin made him wince. He shoved the food into his mouth and  glowered at her but didn't press the subject.

Thankfully, when Eva turned her attention back to her patrons, the young girl had backed away from the counter with slightly less skepticism in her eyes.

"See?" Mrs. Singer patted her daughter's shoulder. "You'll find out the ending soon enough."

"If she ever puts the book out," Jade grumbled. "Please, Eva? Try to finish it before my baby sister comes and steals all the attention?"

After a stern glare from her mother, Jade straightened her posture and glanced down at the floor. Mrs. Singer mouthed a quick apology across the counter before exchanging quick good-byes. Her sympathetic eyes lingered in Eva's mind even after the mother and daughter scurried toward the study room.

The circulation desk relapsed into hushed tones, silent except for Jensen sipping his coffee. Eva tried to ignore him staring at her reddened face while she finished checking her novels into the computer. Her gaze lingered on the covers, bent and cracked from use.

"I take it the ending isn't going well?" asked Jensen.

Eva brought her fingers to her temples, massaging them slowly to ease their dull throb. "If by 'not going well,' you mean me slamming my head against the keyboard, hoping it'll produce something better than what I've written? Then, yeah, I don't think it's going well."

"Kinda wondered why you needed that spellbook over there." Jensen nodded toward the textbook beside Eva's keyboard. "Need to revive dead inspiration?"

Eva tried not to laugh, but his amusement over his own joke was hard to resist. "I wish it was that simple."

Jensen patted her on the shoulder. He snuck a sideways peek into his pastry box and, after brief hesitation, held it out to offer the last two donut holes. Eva shook her head, and he plucked them out for himself.

"You're a brilliant writer," he said. "I know you'll figure it out... and when you do, I'll be first in line to see how it plays out."

________