By Book or by Crook Read Online Free

Connor. It’s nice to see you.”
    “Wouldn’t miss it,” he said. “It’s a real coup for the library, and for the town, that you were able to get it here, Bertie. My congratulations.”
    Mr. Uppiton tried to edge the mayor away from our little group, but Bertie stood firm. “First, I’d like to introduce you to our newest librarian. This is my assistant . . .”
    “Lucy,” he said, with a huge smile. “It’s been an awful long time.”
    My heart pounded in my chest. Connor McNeil. Even handsomer than I remembered.
    “You know each other?” Mr. Uppiton said.
    “Sure do. Lucy and I were kids together. Right, Lucy?”
    I found my tongue at long last. “I’m surprised you remember me, Connor. I was only a summer visitor and it was a long time ago.”
    “I remember all our visitors. Wouldn’t be much of a mayor if I didn’t.” His eyes were the color of the ocean on a sunny day, and as welcoming and friendly. “But you I remember in particular. Very fondly.”
    My face has a horrible habit of showing exactly what I’m feeling at any given moment. Waves of heat were rising. My petticoat crinkled noisily as I wiped my palms on my skirt. Josie was looking at me, her beautiful eyes full of questions. Aunt Ellen had a slight smile on her face. Most of the onlookers nodded politely.
    Mr. Uppiton chafed at losing his moment in the spotlight. “This way, Mr. Mayor,” he said, extending his arm in a flourish. “Theodore Kowalski, get out of the way and let His Honor have a look.”
    Throughout the party, every time I’d glanced toward the alcove, Theodore had been bent over the books, peering through his plain-glass spectacles, ungraciously allowing others close enough to have a look and practically shoving them aside when he figured they’d had long enough. At least he kept thegloves on and turned the pages carefully and with the reverence they deserved.
    Connor’s lips moved. “We’ll catch up later,” they seemed to say. And then he allowed Mr. Uppiton to escort him to the Austen collection.
    “There’s a story here,” Josie whispered, “and I’m going to get to the bottom of it.”
    Connor McNeil. The first boy I’d ever kissed. I’d been fourteen years old. The first summer I’d been allowed to visit Aunt Ellen and Uncle Amos without my parents or bothersome brothers. A beach party, a roaring bonfire shooting sparks into the night air, laughing kids, waves crashing on the unseen shore, a blanket of stars overhead.
    A walk along the beach in the dark. A kiss.
    It had been a light kiss, an innocent fourteen-year-old girl and a well-brought-up fifteen-year-old boy.
    I went home to Boston the next day, vacation over. But that kiss remained, all these years later, the best kiss I had ever had. I’d spent the whole year dreaming of him and had been shattered the next summer when I came back and heard that his father had found him a summer job in Ocracoke on a fishing charter boat.
    Connor had been a cute boy. He’d grown up to be a handsome man. Dark hair, curling now in the damp mist, lovely blue eyes, prominent cheekbones, good skin with a trace of stubble breaking through.
    “Lucy?”
    I shook my head. “Sorry—what was that?”
    “I said, ‘I’m going into the back to replenish the buffet. Do you want anything?’”
    “I think I’ll have one of those pecan tarts after all.”I plunged through the crowd. I like the occasional glass of wine, but tonight I was sticking to mineral water; I knew I needed to keep my wits about me when meeting a room full of strangers. Influential strangers at that. I had nobly kept my distance from the buffet table, but seeing Connor again had thrown me for a loop and I told myself I needed sustenance in order to keep calm. Chocolaty, nutty, gooey sustenance.
    Heck, the tarts were quite small. Two wouldn’t hurt. And since I hadn’t had a serving of fruit all day, I’d better take one of the lemon squares at the same time. By the time I finally made up my