What She Wants. Sheila Roberts

helping.

      As if he knew what would or wouldn’t help. She should be talking to Mom, not him. How’d they gotten on this conversational track, anyway? Oh, yeah. Romance novels.

      “Well, thanks. That was comforting,” she snapped.

      He slung an arm around her. “Hey, sorry. But seriously, stop stressing. It’ll happen.” Dr. Jonathan Templar, fertility expert. Oh, brother.

      “Maybe it won’t,” she said in a small voice.

      Now he really didn’t know what to say. Don’t give up? Yeah, that’d make her feel better. You’ve got someone who loves you? True but not what she wanted to hear. The only thing she wanted to hear was, “You’re pregnant.”

      He shook his head. “Life sucks sometimes.”

      Amazingly, that had been the thing to say. She managed a smile and said, “Yeah, you’re right. But not all the time.” She held up her grocery bag full of paperbacks. “At least I scored big today. I’ve got a whole bag full of happiness.”

      A whole bag full of happiness, huh? “I guess.”

      “These books are full of love and adventure.”

      “And perfect men,” Jonathan added, remembering the conversation in the library.

      “A woman’s idea of perfect, anyway,” Juliet said.

      They got their coffee, then sat at one of the café tables outside to enjoy the sunshine and watch their fellow Icicle Falls residents go about their business. They were almost finished when a woman with a baby in a stroller approached. Jonathan opened the door for her and returned to his seat to see his sister’s eyes looking ready to spill tears.

      “Hey, it’ll be okay,” he promised, and hoped he was right. “You’re only thirty. You’ve got plenty of time to have a kid.” They’d been trying for a year or so. Did it bring the odds down the longer you tried?

      She nodded, but no smile this time. “I should get going. See you at my place for dinner tomorrow?”

      It was Mother’s Day. If he didn’t show up, he’d be toast. “Sure.” He made a mental note to bring some antacids.

      She gave him a hug, then hurried off down the street.

      Jonathan drank the last of his coffee and went to throw the cup in a nearby garbage can. He passed a table with a woman sitting alone, nursing a drink and reading a paperback. He glanced down and saw a couple on the cover, this pair dressed in contemporary Western attire. Another romance novel. The woman smiled and turned a page.

      What was it about these books that had women so hooked? He reviewed the conversation he’d heard in the library. There’s a hero to die for.... James Noble is the perfect man...perfect man.

      Women wrote those novels and they wrote about perfect men. So if a guy wanted to learn what a woman wanted in a man... Who was that author Juliet and Hildy had been talking about? Vanessa Valentine. Someone with a name like that had to know her stuff when it came to love.

      Jonathan tossed his cup, then retraced his steps to the library, hoping the women hadn’t cleared every romance novel off the shelves.

      Most of the library patrons were gone by the time he slipped back into the musty room on the lower level, either back to their homes to wash cars or mow lawns, or off to go hiking the mountain trails. A few late arrivals browsed the health and finance sections, and one woman was leafing through a cookbook.

      Just his luck, the only other section that was occupied was the romance section, where two teenage girls stood, perusing the books. They were cute and skinny, probably cheerleaders. Darn. He’d hoped not to have an audience.

      He hovered over by the magazines and CDs, wishing they’d leave. They didn’t. In fact, it looked like they were going to camp out over there all day, reading and filling their paper grocery bags, emptying the shelves.

      What do you care if they see you looking through a romance? They’re only high school kids, he reminded himself. Kids who’d go home and tell their moms about the dork who’d come in looking for love between the covers of a book.

      “Oh, my gosh, here’s a Vanessa Valentine,” said one.

      No, don’t take that.

      She handed it to her friend.

      “I haven’t read this,” the other girl said, and dropped it in her bag.

      So much for that book. So much for all the books if he didn’t make his move soon. He sauntered casually over. A forty-something woman he’d seen around town had joined them now, and he was aware of both her and the girls staring at him like he was some kind of freak as he studied the titles. He could feel himself beginning to sweat. Just take a book and get out of here.

      He snagged a book about a vampire and another with a cowboy on the cover and was about to leave when, suddenly, he saw it. What was this? Two shelves down in the corner, a few inches past the woman’s thighs... Yes! One last Vanessa Valentine.

      He bent and made a grab for it just as she leaned over. Oh, no! Boob graze.

      “Excuse me,” she said in a tone of voice that told him he was done here.

      “Uh, sorry,” he mumbled, and snatched back his hand.

      She took advantage of his consternation and plucked the Vanessa Valentine off the shelf. Then she scooped another half dozen novels into her shopping bag.

      That left two and one of the teens got them. The woman was right. He was done here. Face still flaming, he walked to the card table where the library volunteer was taking money.

      She was somewhere in her twenties and dressed in black. Her fingernails were black, too. She had piercings all over her face, a collection of earrings running up her ears and wore enough eye makeup to give her a head start on Halloween. Not that Jonathan was an expert on eye makeup, but hers seemed like overkill to him. He preferred a more natural look, like what Lissa wore. Liss, always the gold standard.

      But this woman was friendly enough. He’d seen her volunteering before. He nodded in response to her greeting of “Back for more?”

      She took the books to total them and noticed the vampire on the cover of the top one. “Oh, I love this author. Don’t you?”

      “I don’t know. I’ve never read her.”

      “You haven’t? Well, you’re in for a treat. Her vampire is really sexy.”

      Did she think he was into guy vampires? He opened his mouth to explain that neither guys nor vampires were his thing, but he found it impossible to wedge the words into their conversation.

      “He’s right up there with Sookie’s Eric. Gotta love Eric, don’t you?”

      Jonathan was aware of the teens tittering behind him. His face began to heat. “Well...”

      “I suppose you’ve read all the Twilight books. Are you on Team Edward or Team Jacob?”

      “Huh?”

      “I say vampires win every time. Werewolves aren’t that sexy.”

      More tittering produced more burning on Jonathan’s face. “These aren’t for me.”

      “Sure they’re not,” came a whisper from behind him.

      “They’re for my sister.”

      The volunteer’s face fell. “Oh.”

      Okay. She was embarrassed, he was embarrassed. He held up the vampire. “But I’ll have to give this one a try.”

      “You should,” she said, nodding her head and making her earrings jingle. “You’ll like it, I promise.”

      He paid his buck and got out of there. At least he’d managed to get a couple of books. But what he really wanted was a Vanessa Valentine