Free Sound Advice (Sensations Collection #1) by L.B. Dunbar Page B

Alzheimer’s Patients . I grabbed a pamphlet, knocking over the unbalanced display and spilling sheets of paper onto the floor. Bending down to collect my mess, another book caught my attention as it lay flat on the bottom shelf. Sign Language: The Art of Communication . I reached down and picked up the book instead of the dropped pamphlets. As I stood up, still reading the back cover, I backed into someone. Jess was leaning casually against the shelf, clenching his jaw. Oh no , I thought, Tom called him .
    “Light reading?” He actually smiled, and that chiseled face looked playful and dangerous, in a good way. But I was too distracted by my findings to concentrate for long on Jess’ natural good looks.
    “Jess, this is it. Sign language.”
    His smile faded.
    “Jess, you could teach Katie sign language. Then you wouldn’t have to guess her meaning.”
    “No.”
    “Why not?” My eyebrows pinched together as I glared at him.
    “And I never said I had to guess at her meaning,” he added, defending himself. I ignored his bitter tone.
    “This is what sign language is all about. Communication. If you two learned it and maybe her teacher, she could at least communicate her wants and needs…and emotions.”
    “We don’t need this. We’re doing just fine.”
    “Jess, don’t you want to be more than just fine?”
    “You mean better , like you.” He had his arms crossed now as he leaned against the shelving unit. His voice was rising and someone else walked down the stairs, giving us a stern look to quiet before returning up the staircase. Jess grabbed my arm and pulled me closer to the wall at the end of the stack. His hard grip also pulled me closer to him.
    “Jesus, you’re so pushy,” I responded, trying to pull my arms out of his grasp, and in several flailing motions ended up with my own hands on his upper arms. The book was now wedged between us and I knew the hardcover was all that separated my breasts from brushing up against his chest. I was hyper-aware of my sweating skin tingling from his touch and my clammy hands gripping his muscular arms. My heart raced, and my running tank was pushed up in a way that everything squeezed together, forcing it outward at Jess.
    “No, I don’t mean better like me. I mean better , period. In life. Do it for Katie?”
    “Don’t tell me what to do with my daughter. You know nothing about us. Me or her. You don’t even have children.”
    I felt like he’d slapped me. As if any woman in her twenties, who was single, was not unaware that she did not have children. There was a reminder every time I called my sister who had almost four, and she wasn’t even thirty yet. There was a reminder each time Nana asked about my love life. And there was a reminder each time I looked at Katie.
    I released my grip on Jess’ arms and grabbed the book as it slid between us. In a move I would never take with a precious book, I threw it back toward the bottom shelf.
    “You’re right, Jess,” I said and walked away.
    “Emily, I’m….” but I didn’t hear the rest as I climbed the stairs two at a time. Reaching the top of the steps, I immediately went to the counter to check out my books concerning Nana’s dementia. As I waited to check out, Katie walked up to me with a newer version of The Little Mermaid .
    “Hey, Katie. What do you have there?” I took the book she held out to me. “Oh, I love this story too. Have you read it before?”
    Silence, but she nodded
    “Are you waiting for story time or something?” There seemed to be more kids in the children’s department as I looked around for a librarian. I was slowly becoming aware of people watching me talk to Katie Carter, and I was also self-conscious as to how this scene looked – a strange, sweaty woman in a tank top and bright orange shorts with her hair slicked back in a ponytail talking to the town mute. When I looked up, nosy onlookers turned away.
    “Would you like me to read this to you?”
    Katie nodded