Well Suited (Red Lipstick Coalition #4)(26)

Once inside the library, I scanned the entry for her, setting down the soft cooler so I could text her.

I’m here. You ready?

Let me just grab my bag. Meet me at the desk.

I scooped up the cooler and headed that way, the spring in my step unmissable.

I couldn’t help it. I’d been waiting a week to see her. And the last time I’d seen her, I’d almost kissed her.

Stupid, necessary rules, trying my patience and will at every turn. My respect for them was the only reason I hadn’t kissed her breathless in the doctor’s office. I swore I could hear her begging me—with her eyes, with her lips—and when she’d closed her eyes in anticipation, I’d almost caved and given her what she’d asked for.

It was at the very last second that I’d caught myself. I still wished I hadn’t, but I was glad I had.

Because she had to make the next move. If I pushed, she’d spook, and I’d lose my shot.

As I approached the desk, the man behind the counter glanced up, his eyes immediately narrowing when he saw me.

He wasn’t tall, nor was he short. Wasn’t quite handsome, but wasn’t homely either. He was perfectly average, from top to toe and everywhere in between. But he eyeballed me like I’d come to confiscate the family farm.

I looked down at him—an instance where my imposing height came in handy. A zip of adrenaline burst through me as I read defense on his end, remnants of the biological training of my youth due to the countless fights Tommy had dragged me into.

I was smiling, but I wouldn’t call it a friendly smile.

“Can I help you?” he asked impatiently.

“Just waiting on Katherine,” I answered. “Do you know her…Eagan?” That was the name on his little metal name tag. Made me wonder how many black eyes he’d gotten. It’d have been plenty if he’d grown up in the Bronx.

“There are benches over there,” he said in an attempt to dismiss me.

“Sure are. But Kate told me to meet her here.”

His suspicious eyes narrowed a tick more. “Nobody calls her Kate.”

I leaned in a little, smirking. “I do.”

He huffed, rearranging a stack of books in front of him without purpose. “You’re blocking the desk.”

I glanced dramatically over my shoulder. “Funny, don’t see anyone who needs anything from you. What exactly do you do here? Head of card stamping?” I flicked the date stamp resting on the pad, and it teetered before righting itself.

He snatched it, setting it out of my reach. “Don’t touch my stamp.”

“How long have you known Kate?”

“None of your business. What are you even doing here?”

“I made her lunch,” I said, holding up the cooler in display.

“So, what is this, a date? Katherine doesn’t date either.”

“Maybe not you,” I said lightly.

Katherine rounded the desk, her step faltering when she saw me. She slipped from the stoic Katherine to flushing Kate in the span of a heartbeat.

I shifted, reaching for her elbow for fear she might fall. “Steady there. You all right?”

“Yes, thank you,” she answered breathlessly before stepping back. She smoothed her pencil skirt, adjusting her cardigan after.

She looked lovely as always, but today, she’d stepped it up. Shades of black, including pumps, her hair dark and curled rather than straight, as I’d seen it before. The only color was the ruby red of her cardigan, the flush of her cheeks, and her crimson lips.

I hadn’t seen her in lipstick since that first night at the club. And the sight of her wearing it again set a deep groan sighing silently in my rib cage.

“Be back in half an hour,” Eagan barked.

She gave him a look that would make any man’s blood run cold and said in a steely voice, “Have I ever been late?” He opened his mouth to speak, but she said, “Of course not,” turning away from him to take my arm. “I’m starving. Where should we eat?”

I didn’t even pretend to contain my smugness, smiling at Eagan the Angry Egghead before turning us toward the exit.

“I was thinking we could sit by the fountain. Will you be warm enough without a coat?”

“Oh, yes. It’s nice out today, don’t you think? I’m glad to be out of coat weather. I thought winter would never end.”

“Punxsutawney Phil ruined us all.”

She frowned. “He’s a groundhog. He can’t determine the weather.”

“Tell that to the good people of Punxsutawney.”

She chuckled, keeping her hand in the crook of my elbow as we headed down the stairs and toward the fountain in Bryant Park.

“Did you know the lions were carved in Tennessee pink marble? LaGuardia named them Patience and Fortitude.”

I smiled, amused. “I didn’t know that. What else?”

She paused, the interlude marked by the sound of her heels on the steps. “The light posts over there”—she pointed toward 6th—“were designed by Tiffany Studios.”

“The jeweler?”

Katherine laughed at my apparent idiocy. “No, as in the makers of Tiffany lamps. They’re beautiful, cast in bronze. You should take a look at them sometime.”

“Not now?”