Page 9 of Making It Up

I should ask him to come speak to the kids.

He could come to the library in his uniform. He’d talk for about an hour with that deep gravelly voice.

He’d probably be so cute answering all the questions from the little kids and it would be adorable watching them fawn all over him when they learn that he is outside with wild animals every day.

And I’d be in even bigger trouble because smart guys and guys who are good with kids are also big weaknesses for me.

Okay, so I have a few weaknesses.

Growing up as Scott and Peyton Hansen’s daughter after my very rocky start might have made some of my standards crazy high. It’s not my fault.

I clear my throat as David continues to just stand there watching me. “And I’m thirty years old. I don’t tell my dad where I go.” Okay, I don’t tell my dad where I go all the time.

“Especially when you know damned well he would have told you that was a terrible idea.”

See, David thinks that scowl is intimidating, but I just find it really hot.

“Drink more,” he orders me, looking down at his phone, muttering something under his breath that sounds like ‘of fucking course’, then moving to a cupboard.

“It was for work,” I tell his back. He’s pulling bread, peanut butter, and jelly out of the cupboard, clearly very at home here. “I don’t need to run my work activities past my father.” I cross my arms, trying to look cool and composed. “Or past anyone. Even Nebraska Game and Parks.”

“He would have told you about the incoming storm.” David grabs a plate from another cupboard and opens a drawer to pull out a butter knife. “And that there’s a mountain lion prowling around that area.”

Of course, he would have. But it had been cloudy and mildly windy when I’d gone out there. I’d fully intended to be back in town before dark. I should have been cuddled up, safe and sound, on my couch with a book before the storm even blipped on the local radar. The flat tire wasn’t something I’d planned on, obviously. But even if I’d thought ‘hey, I might get a flat tire’ I wouldn’t have worried or let that stop me. I know how to change a stupid tire. My dad made sure of that. In fact, if I’d called Chief Hansen, and told him I had a flat, the first question he would have asked would have been, “why haven’t you changed it? “

So there was no need to tell my dad about my plans.

As for the…

I feel my eyes widen as the rest of David’s words register. “There’s a mountain lion prowling around out there? “

“Yep.” He turns to me and hands me a plate with a sandwich on it. It’s cut diagonally. And there’s a banana lying next to it.

“Oh.” My voice is soft. I’m distracted. By gruff men making me sandwiches. And mountain lions.

That would have been not a great situation. I think quickly. What would I do if I ran across a mountain lion?

“Yeah, oh,” he says, a smug tone to his voice.

I frown as he turns away and starts across the kitchen. I notice he’s already put all of the sandwich stuff away again.

“I would have made myself really big, waved my arms, made a lot of noise. Mountain lions try to avoid humans. I could have scared it off. I could have thrown stuff at it. Like…” I think about the contents of my car. “Water bottles.” I don’t have much in my car. There are books, of course. Lots of books. But I shudder thinking about throwing books out into an open field at a wild animal. What if he mauled them? I look down. “My boots.”

David has turned back and is frowning at me. Again. “How do you know all of that?”

“I got it right?” I ask. I know I did. I want to hear him say it.

“Yes. Besides getting back in your car, locking the doors, and calling for help.”

“Right. Of course. I would have gotten back into my car and locked the doors.” We both know I couldn’t have called for help. No need to bring up my not-working-right-all-the-time phone again.

“How do you know how to scare off a mountain lion? Did you just guess? “

I put a hand on my hip and give him a little smile. “I have a superpower."

He narrows his eyes. “What’s that?”

“I’m a librarian.”