And Nole can’t possibly be referring to his other brothers, since they’re technically the same age as him. Yes, Neal came first—and he never lets his brothers forget it—but I haven’t heard Nole refer to him as older before. Plus, the triplets are identical in height, while Wes is almost a head shorter, which would explain the suit.
“Wes hasn’t been by in a while,” Nole grumbles. “This was the only thing he had left in his closet.”
“But why did you need to wear a suit today? Are you going somewhere?” I frown. Wherever it is, he would have been better off in his usual jeans and t-shirt.
“No, I... um...” Nole runs a hand through his thick, sun bleached shoulder-length hair. Hair that’s still soaking wet and dripping onto his dress shirt. Then he gives me a sheepish smile. “It was all Neal and Nyle’s fault.”
“What did they do this time?” I ask, feeling outraged on his behalf—that and dying from curiosity.
“They threw all my clothes in the lake.”
“They did what?” My eyes widen.
Betty coughs. “I’ll just leave you two to talk,” she says, heading toward the romance section, where Stacks disappeared earlier.
Nole rounds the desk to join me, and my pulse starts to race.
“Do you have anything you can change into? Something...” less attractive, I think. “Work appropriate,” I say instead. Because I’m not sure I’d be able to work beside him for the rest of the day with him looking like this. Not without having a heart attack—or accidentally shifting—first.
Nole’s cheeks flush. “Oh, um... I think I have some gym clothes in my locker. Let me go look.”
Chapter 2
Violet
Nole changes into basketball shorts and a sleeveless shirt, which honestly isn’t any better than the too-small suit. His tanned, muscular arms are on full display, and I swear the bear shifter somehow looks even taller than he did earlier.
I feel my heart skip a beat every time he looks at me—or I look at him—which really can’t be too healthy at my age. Cause of death: drooling over hot, young man.
When Nole moves to the adjacent computer terminal and gets to work, I forget to breathe. I try not to stare, but I can’t help it. His muscles bulge every time he grabs a book from the stack of returns, rippling as he flips it over, scans it in, and then sets it down on a book truck.
For a few minutes, we work in companionable silence. We’ve done this so many times that I don’t have to ask Nole to move my returns to the book truck, or to wheel it off once it’s full and bring me a new one.
Working side by side like this—running the library together—feels natural. Soon, I’ll be gone, and it’ll be just a distant memory. Until then, I vow to enjoy it.
“So tell me, what happened with your brothers?” I ask.
“They snuck into my room while I was sleeping, took all my clothes, and dumped them into our fishing boat.” Nole shakes his head. “It was floating in the middle of the lake when I woke up. I swam out to get it, but it rained overnight, so everything was soaked.”
“That’s not so bad. I mean, compared to last time...” When his brothers threw a bunch of red sweaters into the wash with Nole’s whites. “Did the rain help get the rest of the pink out?”
“Not really. And I was going to just toss everything in the dryer, but I was already running late, so I had to grab what I could find.”
“Wes’s suit,” I say, trying to hide my smile.
“Wes’s suit.” Nole chuckles, then quickly sobers up. “I’m really sorry I was late again, Violet. I promised you I’d be on time from now on, and I meant it. I even set my alarm clock half an hour early, just in case. If it hadn’t been for Neal and Nyle, I would have been here to help you open.”
“I know, dear.” Five points. And a blush I can’t quite hide, because somehow, calling Nole dear makes me feel the furthest thing from old. “It wasn’t your fault.”
“Why are you always so nice to me, Violet?” he asks softly. He sounds sad—which gets me every time—and I suddenly feel this overwhelming need to make him happy.
“I think I know how you can get your brothers back,” I say before I can think better of it. Way to act old, Violet.
Except Nole instantly perks up, so I can’t bring myself to regret it. Plus, there are plenty of ways I can help him and sound old at the same time.
“Back in my day...” Ten points. No, twenty. No one my age—my real age, that is—would ever utter those words aloud. “We used to play this prank...”
“On the other skunk shifters?” Nole asks, because that is, in fact, what I am—a skunk shifter. Obviously not the real, chameleon twenty-year-old me—but this body, me. Old Lady Violet, eighty-year-old librarian skunk shifter, at your service.
“Yes, on the other skunk shifters.” I nod. Not like I can tell him the prank’s from my college days—the very few college days I had before I went on the run.
Come to think of it, I can’t remember there being a single skunk shifter on campus. Not any that I knew of, anyway. Being a chameleon doesn’t make telling shifters apart easy.
“What was the prank?” Nole prods, and I realize I’ve actually managed to get lost in thought without trying to. I glance over at him and see that he’s stopped scanning in books and is now just standing there and staring at me. “Violet?”
“Right... where was I?” I don’t give myself any points. Not when the reason for my distraction is hot as hell and staring right at me. “Oh yes. Hair growth formula.”
“Hair growth formula?” Nole’s eyebrows furrow adorably.
“Yes, hair growth formula,” I say, getting excited at the thought of him using it on his brothers. “Did you know when witches brew the stuff, it’s extra potent? And the hair grows really fast?”
“Well, sure, but...” Nole trails off when a patron approaches our desk with a stack of books. She hands Nole her library card, and they make polite small talk while he checks out her book. Once she’s happily on her way, he turns back to me.
“So, hair growth formula?” He runs a hand through his gorgeous, thick hair self-consciously.
“Not for you!” I barely manage to suppress a giggle. “I meant for your brothers. When I was a girl, we used to mix hair growth formula with... soap.” Phew, I almost said body wash. Or did they already have body wash back when Old Violet was growing up? I’ll have to find out when I get home.
“I could give them hairy hands,” Nole says thoughtfully.
“Or you could mix it with their body wash,” I suggest instead.
“That’s brilliant!” He snorts. “But it is temporary, right?”
“I think so? Or maybe there was a counter spell?” It wasn’t as if I ever asked those frat guys how they stopped looking like hairy apes. “I’m sure one of the books in the Supe section could tell us how the spell works.”
“Or I could just run over to Highway to Spells and ask Willow. She’s always up for a good prank,” Nole says, eyes bright.