The Bookish Life of Nina Hill(42)

“No.”

“Kurt Vonnegut?”

“No.”

“Truman Capote?”

“No.” His face was blank, but she could see he was getting vaguely irritated by this line of questioning.

“Harry Potter?” She was desperate.

“When I was a kid, of course.”

“Do you know which house you’re in?”

“No. I’m not a total nerd.”

She swayed again, and suddenly leaned up into him, turning her face up, so there was really nothing he could do except kiss her.

Which he did. Lightly, but properly.

“Do you want to come in?” she said, once they’d separated.

“Are you sure I’m welcome? I haven’t done the required reading.”

She nodded and stretched up on her toes again, pulling him back down. His arm was tight around her waist, he was kissing her deeply, but then he pulled away and shook his head.

“No. I don’t take advantage of tipsy book snobs. It’s a rule.”

“It is?” Nina was confused. “Who said?”

“Me.” He turned her gently around and pointed her toward the house. “Go on, I’ll make sure you get there in one piece.”

She walked into her house, managing the stairs pretty well, actually, and once inside went to the window and opened it. He was still in the driveway.

“Hi,” she said.

He grinned up at her. “Hello.”

“Shall I let down my hair?”

He shook his head. “It’s not long enough to reach me, for one thing, and secondly, I never understood why that was a good idea. Why not cut the hair into lengths, braid them into ropes, and create an actual ladder? It wouldn’t be that hard.”

“But it would be less romantic. And a much shorter story.”

He shrugged. “Yeah, but it would be pretty hard core of what’s-her-name to create a hair ladder and escape, right?”

“Rapunzel?”

“If you say so.” He turned to leave but paused and looked back up at her, haloed in the reading light. “I’d like to see you again.”

Nina inclined her head regally. “I’m prepared to consider it.”

“Don’t overwhelm me with enthusiasm.”

“OK.”

“Bye, then.” He climbed into the car and pulled away, waving out of the window.

“Bye, then,” said Nina, watching his lights fade away. Then she went inside and closed the window.

“Phil,” she said to the cat, who was back-and-forthing on the floor, waiting to be fed, “I think I met someone.”

“That’s fantastic,” said the cat. “I’m hungry.”

As Tom drove away, he pulled out his phone and called his older brother, Richard.

“I think I met someone,” he said, as soon as he heard his brother answer.

“Hi, Tom,” replied his brother, wryly. “How are you? It’s nighttime—did you notice?”

“I’m freaking out,” Tom said. “That’s why I’m calling.”

“If you only met someone, why freak out yet? Keep your powder dry for when you’ve slept with her a few times and she reveals herself to be a total lunatic and you have to work out how to get away from her. Then you can freak out.”

Tom said, “Look, you and I are not the same person. I try to find out their mental status before I sleep with them.”

His brother’s voice was sarcastic. “Really? What about Annika?”

“That was an exception. Every rule needs an exception.”

“But not every woman requires a restraining order.”

“She had beautiful hair.”

“She did. Until she shaved it off and mailed it to you.”

Tom realized he wasn’t paying attention to driving at all and pulled over. “This girl is different.”

He could hear his brother sigh. “Tell me.”

“She works in a bookstore.”

“Employed is good. Literate is good.”

“She is small and has hair the color of a chestnut.”

“Oh dear, you’re already waxing lyrical. So, she’s a redhead?”

“No, a brunette, but with reddish hints. Like when Amelia used to henna her hair.”

“And does this girl henna her hair?”

“No, that’s the color it is.”

“Amelia used to say it was her natural hair color, too.”

Tom frowned. “Look, what our sister did is irrelevant. Nina has reddy-browny hair, and her eyes are hazel, and she’s gorgeous and small.”

“You already said small. Is she under four feet?” He paused. “Are you preparing me for someone who’ll need a booster seat at dinner?”

“No, but she’s smaller than, say, Rachel.”

Rachel was Richard’s fiancée. “Rachel’s five foot nine; she’s not small at all.” Richard’s voice was amused. “Not that there would be anything wrong with you dating someone who needed a booster seat as long as they weren’t an actual child. Good things come in small packages, right?”

Tom made a frustrated noise. “Richard, she’s regular height, she’s pretty, and I don’t really know why I’m even telling you about her. She’s really smart, probably too smart for me.”