Everyone's, apparently, except his. He moved very quietly, striding along, looking around like he'd never been in a library before. Tall, nice wide shoulders under the jacket, a crisp, blue button-down shirt, and a pair of wire-rim glasses. Chess set Huckleberry Finn on the closest cart, sighing when she thought of the extra work it would take to actually walk over and shelve it, and turned back to the rest of the library to find that Mr. Maybe-Hunk had done a Speedy Gonzales and was now right in front of the desk.

Well, hello. What do we have here? Nice, slightly curly sandy-brown hair, check. Good cheekbones, dark eyes behind the wire-rims, a long nose, check. Shoulders nice and wide, waist nice and trim, a little over six feet tall, check. Clean-shaven, check.

Initial hypothesis verified. He was a hunk. He looked like every girl's wet dream of an English professor.

Of course, I'm not crazy about sport jackets. But I could make an exception for shoulders like that, I like a man who works out. Hel-lo stranger. Come to get your library card?

His eyes flicked over her, and Chess restrained the urge to push her shoulders back and raise her chin. She wore a perfectly respectable blue sweater over a white dress-up shirt and navy slacks today, along with pearl earrings. It wasn't dowdy—no daughter of Chess's mother would ever dare to be frumpy—but it wasn't exactly a cocktail dress either. The way he looked at her seemed to imply he found her a little less than professional.

"Welcome to the Jericho City Library.” Chess gave him a wide, bright smile. “May I help you?"

Then her right hip began to prickle.

He gave her a long, considering look, then answered the smile with one of his own. It was a white-toothed, fierce, supermodel-wide grin that actually pushed her back a step, the tingling against her hip intensifying as if she had the knife strapped under her slacks.