What She Wants. Sheila Roberts

of it. Another reason to stay single.”

      “If I was with Jillian, I’d give her plenty of attention,” Kyle said.

      Vance pointed a fat finger at him. “Don’t go there.”

      Kyle frowned again and shoved two cards across the table. “I’ll take two.”

      When Vance gave him two new ones, he was still frowning, but that probably had more to do with thoughts of Jillian than the cards he’d received.

      Jonathan kept his thoughts about women in general and one woman in particular to himself. The last thing he wanted was Bernardo’s pity or Vance’s scorn. Let Kyle take that hit. Jonathan preferred to suffer in silence.

      * * *

      Saturday morning Jonathan attempted to ease his suffering by going with his sister, Juliet, to the library for the Friends of the Library monthly book sale.

      A stranger seeing them enter the musty room in the library basement would never have taken them for siblings. Other than their hair color, they didn’t look at all alike. Juliet Gerard had big, brown eyes and perfect eyesight, where his gray eyes hid behind glasses. He had a long face, while she’d been blessed with a perfect oval like their mother’s. He was skinny and barely five foot eight; she was long-legged and stacked. She’d definitely gotten the looks in the family while he’d gotten the brains. Not that Juliet was stupid, but it quickly became apparent who the family genius was. In the world of kids, that wasn’t necessarily a blessing. When they were younger he’d often wished it was the other way around, but then he’d realized how unfair that would have been. Life was easier for a man who wasn’t all that attractive than it was for a woman. Theoretically.

      Their lives were as different as their looks. Juliet was married and trying to get pregnant, a project that was taking much longer than expected. When she wasn’t working at that, she logged in part-time hours at Mountain Escape Books or met with her book club or hosted parties where all her friends had to buy candles or face goop. She was an awful cook, a good dancer and an avid romance reader. And her social calendar was always full.

      Jonathan’s, on the other hand, had a lot of open space, and he was stuck in nonswinging single limbo. He couldn’t dance, but he could fix leaky pipes and install dimmer switches, something both his sis and his brother-in-law appreciated. Unlike Juliet, he read real fiction like action adventure or sci-fi/fantasy, and the monthly fund-raiser book sales gave him an opportunity to try out new authors.

      He’d just scored big, finding a first edition of The Kingdom of Zoon, when Juliet, prowling the romance section a couple of bookshelves over, let out a squeal.

      Hildy Johnson, who owned Johnson’s Drugs along with her husband, Nils, was standing next to her and already had several books in her basket, but she eyed Juliet’s find with envy. “Oh, Vanessa Valentine. I haven’t read that one.”

      The woman was married and in her fifties. Why was she reading romance novels?

      “I’ll lend it to you when I’m done,” Juliet promised.

      Rita Reyes, who’d worked in the bar at Zelda’s restaurant, entered the room. She said a quick hi to Jonathan, then moved to join Juliet and Hildy in their treasure hunt. “I hope you haven’t taken all the good books.”

      “We saved you a few,” Juliet assured her. “When’s Zelda’s going to open again?”

      “Charley says by June.”

      “I hope so,” Juliet said. “I miss those huckleberry martinis.”

      “And I miss working there.” Rita sighed. “I’ll be so glad when we’re up and running again.”

      A fire in December had forced the restaurant to close; it was now in the process of being rebuilt. Zelda’s was a popular place in town for both families and singles wanting to mix and match. Jonathan hadn’t gone there much.

      Rita pointed to the book in Juliet’s hand. “I love that one. James Noble is the perfect man.”

      The perfect man, huh? A character made up by a woman? Oh, brother.

      “Look! Here’s Surrender,” Rita said, pulling a paperback off a shelf. “I love this book.”

      A war novel in the romance section? Jonathan edged closer and sneaked a peek. He saw no scene of carnage on the cover, no white flag being raised—only a woman in a low-cut dress and some muscle-bound guy in tights and a shirt he forgot to button doing a back bend over the kind of fancy bed no man would want to sleep in. Looking at the way the guy was holding her made Jonathan’s back hurt.

      “Oh, my gosh, me, too,” agreed Juliet. “There’s a hero to die for. I love the scene where he throws himself in front of her and gets stabbed.”

      “And how often does that happen in real life?” Jonathan scoffed under his breath.

      The women stared at him as if he’d uttered blasphemy.

      Juliet raised a delicate eyebrow. “Probably as often as a giant bubble floats to earth and gives magical powers to the first fool who touches it.”

      Rita snickered and Jonathan, properly chastised and feeling like he’d stuck his face in a firepit, moved to a safer corner of the room and perused the home improvement section.

      Turning his back on Juliet and her fellow romance junkies didn’t shield his ears from their conversation.

      “Men,” Rita said disgustedly. “Maybe if they read a few romance novels they’d learn something.”

      “Nils could stand to learn a few things,” Hildy said. “Especially in the bedroom,” she added in a conspiratorial whisper that carried across the small, now quiet—since everyone was eavesdropping—room.

      Balding, scrawny Nils and Brunhilda Hildy in the bedroom together. That was T.M.I. to the max.

      “Oh, they all think they’re such good lovers.” Rita rolled her eyes. Rita was divorced. Obviously, her man hadn’t measured up. “If I found a man who could make love like the heroes in those books, I’d take him to bed in a heartbeat.”

      “If a man really wanted to be a good lover, he should read these books,” Hildy continued in her stage whisper.

      Rita nodded. “That would guarantee he’d get lucky.”

      The women finished making their selections. As they went to pay for their books, two gray-haired men and a teenage boy stampeded to the romance section.

      Jonathan paid for his book and then left the room with Juliet, who was now wearing a superior smirk.

      “Pathetic,” Jonathan muttered.

      “You shouldn’t knock romance novels if you haven’t read them,” she said as they walked out of the library and turned toward Bavarian Brews for their ritual post-shopping coffee.

      “I guess,” he said. “But they all seem so, I don’t know, unrealistic.” He held up a hand before Juliet could give him another verbal smackdown. “Yes, neither are my sci-fi/fantasy books. But I know they’re improbable. And at least sci-fi has real science at its roots.”

      “And my romance novels have real life at their roots,” Juliet argued. “They’re all about men and women falling in love and working out their problems. People do that every day. And you know what I like best about them? They all have happy endings.” Juliet’s smile vanished. “Sometimes a woman needs a break from real life and a little encouragement.”

      His sister was always upbeat. To see her expression suddenly cloudy was disturbing. “Everything okay with you and Neil?” He hated to ask, not because he didn’t care, but because female emotions were scary. He’d tried his best to comfort her when their dad died but had felt hopelessly inadequate.

      Right now she was looking at him with teary eyes that made him uneasy. He’d rather face the dragon of Zoon than a woman’s tears.

      “I’m