The SEAL's Rebel Librarian by Anne Calhoun Page B

this over through the rest of the meal, coffee, and dessert while they looked at pictures streamed from Rose’s laptop to Grannie’s TV. Ruins, history, his grandmother bright-eyed and smiling, arm in arm with her best friends and Rose under a wide expanse of sky. Afterwards he and Keenan cleaned up the kitchen while Rose and Grannie put the food away. “Look at us,” he said, elbowing Keenan in the side, knowing the running water would cover their conversation. “Washing dishes after Sunday dinner.”
    Keenan wore a red-and-white checked apron with a frilly eyelet ruffle as serenely as he’d worn cammies and a grenade launcher. “Not where you want to be?” he said quietly.
    â€œI’m just surprised you’re here,” Jack said.
    Keenan shrugged and passed him the roast platter, scraped and ready for the dishwasher. “We’d always talked about working for Gray Wolfe as a team. I was ready to come home,” he said. “Finally.”
    â€œWas it the job?”
    â€œAmong other things,” Keenan said. “They haven’t hired a replacement for me.”
    â€œThey haven’t?”
    â€œThey want the right man for the job. You should think about it.”
    â€œI’m not ready,” Jack said reflexively, even though he’d told Erin he was looking at jobs with security contractors. He’d had to say something, look like a man with a plan, when she gave that “no messy emotions” speech.
    â€œHow are you going to know if you’re ready or not unless you give it a shot?”
    Because he knew. Deep in his bones, he knew. “I need a favor,” he said, changing the subject.
    â€œName it,” Keenan said.
    â€œA friend of mine is buying a motorcycle. I need someone to ride it from the dealership to the airfield on Highway 75.”
    â€œWhy can’t he ride it out there?”
    â€œBecause she’s new to riding. Sure as shit she’s going to lay the bike down, and I don’t want her doing that in front of the guys from the dealership.”
    Keenan’s gaze sharpened. “Your librarian?”
    â€œNo comment,” Jack said, and shut off the water. “What about you? You never go this long without someone on a string.”
    â€œNo comment,” Keenan said. “What’s she buying?”
    â€œA Duc Monster 696.”
    â€œThat’s a hell of a lot of bike for a beginner.”
    â€œShe can handle it. Hey, Rose, can I borrow your motorcycle leathers?”
    â€œOf course,” Rose said, “but you’ll find them a little short in the inseam.”
    â€œThey’re for a friend.”
    â€œYou ride?” Keenan said to Rose.
    â€œGot my license same time he did,” Rose said.
    Jack didn’t like the look on Keenan’s face. The last thing he wanted K figuring out was that his sister was actually the coolest woman he knew, smart, determined, taking no shit. “Great. Thanks. I’ll pick them up later.”
    â€œI’ve got some errands to run, so I’ll bring them over later tonight.”
    â€œI’ll meet you at the dealership tomorrow,” Keenan said. “Take an early lunch or something.”
    After the good-byes, Jack texted Erin. 11 a.m. at the dealership tomorrow let’s do this.
    *   *   *
    At 10:59 a.m. the Ducati dealership held only Erin, clutching her brand-new helmet, the salesman, clutching the biggest check Erin had ever written out of her post-divorce checking account, and the receptionist. At exactly eleven o’clock, the parking lot filled with engine noise from Jack’s purring Duc, and a squat, tough-looking truck driven by a guy in a suit and tie. Jack took off his helmet, said a couple of words to the guy as he swung out of the truck, and patted her Duc as he walked by it into the dealership.
    â€œNice bike,” the man following Jack into the showroom said, sounding