The Big Bang Read online

  Of course, Justin/Julian wouldn’t be small.

  As she eased into her well-deserved, post-workout bubble bath, she turned the page to a chapter entitled, “Money! Money! Money!”

  Half an hour later, filled with gratitude for what she already had and what would soon be hers, having imagined closings in the pipeline, checks in the mail for real estate and all her sideline businesses, and feeling truly happy, knowing that was the fastest way to bring in as much money as she could imagine, she put the book down and closed her eyes again.

  “Bring it on.”

  With a contented sigh, she refreshed her bath with more hot water, grabbed the remote, and flipped on the tub deck TV while she awaited her good fortune.

  Martha Stewart’s face filled the screen.

  An omen for business acumen and financial redemption if ever there

  was one.

  ***

  Maryellen Griffin loved Mondays.

  She loved pulling into the lot of the Melody Mountain annex branch of the public library, walking past the Quiznos, veterinary clinic, and U-Frame-It that shared the L-shaped strip mall. She loved the sound of her key in the lock, the click of the lights, the colorful blip as she turned on the computers, and the overflowing return bin she needed to reshelf. She loved that budget cuts stipulated only one senior staffer for the first two, gloriously quiet, nearly patron-free hours at the start of the week.

  Stowing her purse and a post-Easter brown bag lunch of celery sticks, grapefruit wedges, and half a chicken breast in the drawer beneath the circulation desk, she sat down and turned on the staff computer.

  Maryellen especially loved the Monday after Easter. Another year would pass before the stress of organizing an egg hunt, shopping for a dress to complement Frank’s purple robe, or listening to his the Lord wants you to have what you want if you give money sermon she’d committed to memory six Easters ago when he was called to make the leap from full-time parishioner to part-time pastor. By scheduling herself for the opening shift, she’d not only miss this year’s rundown of each check amount and who from, but possibly the initial transition into Memorial Day planning mode. Best of all, she managed to slip out of bed, shower, dress, and get out of the house before Frank woke up and rubbed up against her for morning sex. He’d be more insistent, rougher, and certainly more vocal than usual tonight.…

  Tell me how good I was yesterday.

  Tell me how bad you want me.

  Tell me you want it as much as they want me to build them a big church.

  Tell me how big and hard I am.

  Tell me…

  She sighed.

  Even though she was alone, she did a quick scan of the tables and stacks filling the space once slated to be a Dress Barn. Satisfied no one was looking over her shoulder, she double-clicked on Internet Explorer and, like every Monday, typed in the website for the Denver Public Library. She clicked on about the library for the scroll-down menu and went to jobs.

  She liked the suburban public library system, and the convenience of living and working in the same neighborhood couldn’t be overestimated.

  She closed her eyes.

  But what if she didn’t live in the suburbs at all, but in a little bungalow on a shady tree-lined street in Congress Park or Sloan’s Lake?

  Frank would never live in a bungalow, or anywhere as diverse as Sloan’s Lake.

  She scanned the listings.

  Shelver, Ross-Barnum Branch (20 hours)

  Shelver, Hampden Branch Library (20 hours)

  Education Program Assistant, Various Branch Libraries (40 hours)

  She was far too senior for a shelving position, and the longer hours, reduced pay, and status of an education program assistant wasn’t for her.

  Library Security Supervisor, Central Library (40 hours)

  Facilities security was of no interest, but the location gave her a shudder of pleasure.

  Central Library.

  Whenever she made the trek into downtown or even to the Cherry Creek Mall, she always allowed time for a detour to the Central Library. Set like a contemporary, sophisticated cousin beside the ultramodern art museum and kitty-corner to the state capital, she could spend forever in the open atrium, soaking in the smell of periodicals and well-worn hard covers. She’d watch the steady stream of students, readers, even vagrants, as they traveled en masse up and down the open elevators, in and out of the three floors’ worth of genre-specific galleries.

  It was nothing short of amazing how patrons lined up in front of the bank of self-serve computers and knew exactly how to check out their books.

  She glanced at the last listing.

  Head Reference Librarian, Branch location

  As she started to double-click for a more detailed description, the front door jangled open.

  Will Pierce-Cohn popped his head in. “You open?”

  Her stomach flip-flopped with the sight of him, but she smiled. “Come on in.”

  He did and placed a small stack of books on the Formica counter almost before she’d switched back to the circulation screen.

  “I think these might be a day or two overdue,” he said.

  “Let’s look.” She grabbed a book and scanned the barcode. “Three days, I’m afraid.”

  He reached into his back pocket and pulled out his wallet.

  “You want to renew any of these?”

  “Nope. Not mine.”

  Roseanne Goldberg’s name populated the borrower screen. “I can note the charge and Roseanne can pay the fine next time she’s in.”

  “I got it,” he mumbled, handing her a five.

  “That’s awfully nice of you.” An icky recognition he probably thought of her as Frank’s coconspirator flitted in her gut.

  “I told her I’d look these over, but I only had a chance to glance through the first book.”

  “How was it?” she asked, to be friendly and conversational.

  “Interesting.” He drummed his fingers on the book atop the remaining pile. “I guess.”

  Whether it was his expression, the sense he held back around her, or curiosity about the reading he was doing at Roseanne’s behest, Maryellen set the book aside as she checked in the other titles. Instead of putting it with the others on the reshelving cart, she opened the drawer below her desk and glanced at the title before stowing it next to her lunch for noontime reading.

  ToxiCity.

  CHAPTER NINE

  Melody Mountain Ranch General Provision 9.6.

  Certain areas are designated as common property intended for the common use and enjoyment of the owners for their recreation

  and other related activities.

  “I mean, my dad was supposed to get out of my hair, and he did in a way, just not for Easter, like I wanted.” Eva placed the last of the onyx and seed pearl amulets on the length of purple velvet she’d draped over the multipurpose room podium and started for the art supply closet to put away the pilfered jewelry-making supplies. “But I think I figured out why.”

  Tyler, who’d been maddeningly chill about the whole thing, stood there looking smug. “Why’s that?”

  “We’re just not powerful enough, yet.”

  “It’s also pretty unpredictable to attempt black magic with green members.”

  “You know you sound like a full-on witch geek.”

  “Tyler could have a point,” Margaret Estridge said from the door of the all-purpose room where she stood as “youth group” sentry. “Mom says the playground deal made Reverend Griffin like the hero of the neighborhood. Everyone totally loves him even more than usual.”

  “Love energy can cause problems,” Hannah Hunt, who’d spent another week avoiding the math teacher, added.

  “Tyler’s stepdad doesn’t exactly love him.” Eva smirked. “I wonder what kind of power an adult would bring to our…”

  Drills from the security system installers drowned out her final words.

  “Don’t even think about it,” Tyler said.

  H
annah ran into the room and whisper-screamed, “Black alert!”

  Tyler quickly rolled the remaining jewelry into the velvet drape and stuffed it beneath the podium while Eva unrolled a banner from the end of one of the tables facing the audience. Just as the bottom of Welcome Rancher Youth brushed the linoleum, her father popped into the room holding a tray of cookies.

  “Afternoon.” Her dad nodded, smoothed a crease in his ironed jeans with his free hand, and started toward her. “What’s in the offing for today?”

  “Busy, busy, busy!” Eva said in her most chipper lilt.

  “The Lord provides the wind, but man must raise the sails.”

  Not that her dad would notice, but Eva flashed what had to be the most ungodly fake smile ever.

  “I just dropped in to apologize for the noise disturbance around here this afternoon,” Reverend Griffin said. “I’m hoping warm Snickerdoodles will make up for the inconvenience.”

  “Thanks, Reverend Frank,” Margaret said.

  “You’re welcome,” he said. “I have to admit I do have ulterior motives.”

  Eva managed a nearly imperceptible eye roll. “What is it you want us to do?”

  “I’d like your group to help out with the Memorial Weekend festivities.”

  “Help out how?” She grabbed a cookie of her own and waited for him to knit his brow in disapproval.

  “I’ve asked the homeowner’s board to double your current operating budget if your group participates,” he said instead.

  Murmurs filled the room.

  She took a bite. “I’m not sure that’s workable for us.”

  “Evangeline,” he said.

  “Eva,” she said, mid-chew.

  “I’ve also arranged things so that those of you who are interested will have first priority for lifeguard positions and other rec center summer jobs.”

  “Including me?”

  “That’s interesting,” her father said, grasping the spiral charm of the Goddess amulet she’d forgotten to tuck into her shirt.

  “Mrs. Jordan helped me make it,” she said quickly. “Pretty, huh?”

  “Very.” He smiled. “Talk things over kids and let me know as soon as you make a decision.”

  “Really?”

  He gave a cursory wave and started for the door. “Be sure and write YOUTH GROUP MEMBER at the top of any job applications you decide to submit.”

  “Will do,” Tyler said.

  “You know what they say,” he turned. “If you want children to keep their feet on the ground, put some responsibility on their shoulders.”

  Eva flipped him the bird as soon as he was gone. “I hope you all realize maybe means yes to him.”

  “I agree your dad’s kind of railroading us,” Tyler said.

  Was there any chance he’d actually let her work at the rec center? “I know, right?”

  “It’s kinda hard to imagine the Goths in jobs that involve constant sunshine and little red Speedos, but it will double the money in the youth club treasury/spell fund for a couple days of work,” Tyler said.

  Everyone laughed.

  “He’ll work us to the bone that weekend.”

  “But we’ll be able to do more practice spells so the new people will catch up faster.”

  “The devil’s in the details.” Reverend Griffin’s deep voice boomed through the room of whomever he’d moved on to chatting up as he headed down the hall.

  “More money would allow us to do some really tight spells,” Heather said.

  “As in?” Tyler and Eva said in unison.

  At least no one said jinx.

  “Maybe we could make weed pop up in the community flower beds,” one of the Goths said.

  “I was sort of thinking it could be cool if we made the model of the playground sink, just like Mr. Pierce-Cohn says it will,” Lauren Trautman said.

  “That’s an awesome idea,” Tyler said.

  Lauren smiled in his direction.

  Eva tried to ignore the hollow feeling that seemed to be growing by the second.

  Other than the high-pitched squeal of electric drills, the room fell silent.

  “What do you think, Eva?”

  “I don’t know.” She shook her head. “But, I wish they’d stop that damned drilling so we could figure it out in peace.”

  ***

  “I have cameras set up at the entrances, exits, and high-traffic locations throughout—”

  Frank nodded along as if he were listening while the installer from the security company rattled off the specifics of operating the system. His thoughts, however, were on Hope.

  He shouldn’t be so bugged that his apology wasn’t enough for her to apologize in return, and he couldn’t seem to let go of the niggling feeling he’d somehow pissed her off. Luckily, she wouldn’t continue to harbor whatever it was she was feeling for long. Thanks to Laney Estridge’s comment about Hope getting involved in something bigger than herself, he’d come up with a give and it shall be given to you solution for whatever strain stood between them.

  Banking that she’d show up for the Saturday afternoon aerobics class, he planned a strategic hello for the moment she passed the playground diorama, whereupon he’d teasingly shake a finger in her direction. “I haven’t seen your name on anything having to do with the Memorial Weekend playground dedication festivities.”

  This time, her look of contrition would be unmistakable. “To be honest, I didn’t consider getting involved because…”

  “No worries,” he’d say and smile benevolently. “I understand completely.”

  “I’m sorry,” she’d say, a stray tear travelling down her face.

  “No need to apologize.” He’d look straight into her clear, deep blue eyes.

  “I’m just not myself these days. You have to forgive—”

  He’d hold up a hand. “Just tell me you’ll agree to look over the playground design before it’s finalized.”

  “Wow.” She’d look down so he wouldn’t see her blush. “I’m honored.”

  “From everything I hear, you’ve got quite an eye for both indoor and outdoor design.”

  The attitude of her gratitude would charge the air around them.

  Frank smiled expectantly and looked toward the front door of the rec center in anticipation of her imminent arrival while the security installation technician prattled on. “We just need a decision on final placements for the interior surveillance cameras.”

  The front door swung open.

  “Where would you suggest?” Frank asked.

  Hope, dressed in snug workout pants and a sweatshirt, entered the building.

  “We should place a camera in the fitness hallway in case of vandalism or theft.”

  She passed the diorama without a glance and continued on to the drinking fountain.

  “Great.” Frank took a conversation-ending step in Hope’s direction.

  “And another one in that blind hallway outside the second floor restrooms.”

  “Sounds like a plan.”

  Before he could take another step, Tim Trautman flew past both of them and stopped directly behind Hope.

  As Hope bent over to take a drink, Frank was left with his unspoken plan and an unfortunate view of Trautman’s backside instead.

  ***

  Tim Trautman managed a split second inventory: toned quads, nice slice of tan lower back peeking out between her red workout top and waistband, perfect little butt. God, how he’d love to cup his hands around those round cheeks and…

  Hope looked up from the water fountain and turned toward him.

  With her hair pulled back into a ponytail, her face was even more stunning up close than he’d imagined.

  So was her rack.

  She was taller than he liked—at least five foot six—but he still had an inch or two on her.

  Seven inches in her would be even better.

  He struggled to keep his eyes on the deep blue of hers.

  “Sorry, I didn’t realize you were waiting,” she
said.

  For weeks.

  He’d only been a second away from an introduction at church when she’d turned and took off to meet whomever it was that had enticed her away with the promise of a bedroom redo.

  “No worries,” he said, fighting the urge to dry a stray bead of water from her lower lip with his tongue. Instead, he smiled a sheepish guy-next-door smile, which, conveniently, was true. “I believe we’re neighbors.”

  “Hope Jordan.”

  He extended his hand. “Tim Trautman.”

  “Nice to meet you.”

  Her smile sent his cock to war within the confines of his jock.

  “You just moved in to the Smithers’ place, right?”

  She knew who he was. Maybe the check he’d left on the donation plate had worked its magic after all?

  “I finally met your wife, Theresa, over our shared fence yesterday,” she said.

  Or not.

  “Great,” he said with a little too much enthusiasm. Nothing like pissing away a grand when Theresa would have felt just as generous and worthy of neighborhood attention with a $500 donation.

  “New house and the babies.” Her eyes misted over. “You must be thrilled.”

  “Looking forward to a sharp increase in the chaos, anyway.”

  “I can only imagine.”

  With no good way to not ask about her family situation, he decided to get it over with. “You have kids?”

  Her look of pain was unmistakable. “We’re trying.”

  “Took us almost two years to get pregnant with Lauren.” He chuckled and shook his head. “Hard to believe we have numbers four and five on deck.”

  Her face brightened.

  “Enjoy the process because once it happens, you go from drinking wine to drinking from a fire hose.”

  “Haven’t heard that particular analogy before.” Her giggle was surprisingly deep and, not surprisingly, sexy. “Makes me feel better than you know.”

  Before he could manage a my pleasure, the power flickered on and off.

  “That doesn’t bode too well,” she said, looking overhead.

  He glanced over at Frank who stood by the front desk scowling as he consulted a clipboard held by a security workman. “I think they’re putting in the security system.”