Ready to Fall by Olivia Dade Read Free Book Online

Who wouldn’t?
    â€œDo you run the storytimes at Battlefield?” he asked.
    She shook her head. “That’s Penny’s domain. I mostly deal with the circulation desk and shelving. Although I have trouble reaching some of the higher shelves, even with our rolling footstools. My conclusion: Our library was designed by an evil architect with a relentless grudge against short librarians like me.”
    Without his permission, his hand reached over to give her a consoling pat on the shoulder. “Not short. Fun-sized. Now stop stalling and get on the goddamn bike. I have the kickstand down, so it’s stable. No need to worry.”
    Those lines around her mouth reappeared in an instant, but she swung a leg over the top of the bike. Or at least she tried to. Instead, her foot kicked the frame, and the bike clattered to the floor as she jumped out of the way.
    â€œConsider that a warning shot,” she told the bike, her breath coming a little too fast.
    â€œDon’t pretend you did that on purpose.” He lifted the bike, setting it back on its wheels and nudging the kickstand into place with his foot.
    â€œI can pretend whatever I want. For instance, I can pretend that this contraption isn’t going to end up impaling some part of me before the night is over. Say,” she said, plastering a too-bright grin on her face, “did I ever tell you why I thought my bike was possessed when I was a kid?”
    She was stalling. He knew why, too. For all her bluster, she was legitimately scared of riding a bike. And though he did want to know the reason for her fear, letting her drag this process out wasn’t the best way to ease her anxiety.
    â€œTell me once you’re on the bike. I swear I won’t let you fall here in my shop.” He tried to put every ounce of confidence he had into his voice, knowing she needed it.
    â€œThat’s a very limited guarantee. What about when I practice outside?” Her cloudy blue-gray eyes met his in a silent plea for reassurance.
    Those eyes tugged at him, tempting him to vow that he’d never let her get hurt, on or off a bike. But he couldn’t make that vow, for a variety of reasons. And he refused to lie to her.
    â€œI can’t promise you won’t fall outside.” He hesitated. “You probably will at some point. But I’ll do my best to stop you from hurting yourself. I’ll make sure your helmet fits right and that you know what you’re doing. I’m bringing along a first aid kit, too. Just in case.”
    His candor seemed to steady her, which didn’t surprise him. For all her drama, he didn’t think she was the kind of woman who wanted smoke blown up her ass. Other than when he’d tried to pin her down on Ulysses’s appeal, she’d spoken nothing but truths. Truths exaggerated to the point where they resembled lies, sometimes, but truths nevertheless.
    He did need to redecorate—okay, decorate —his front room. She did fear bikes. And if he had time to comb through all of her exaggerations, he suspected he’d find more kernels of honesty in each one. Honesty she’d made easier to bear through humor and theatrics.
    Sarah Mayhew had perfected one hell of a magic trick. She’d concealed an honest, generous, vulnerable woman in plain sight. So effectively that he suspected most people didn’t even see her.
    She took a deep breath. “Okay. Attempt number two.”
    Fortunately, her foot didn’t take out the bike this time. She swung a leg over the frame and stood behind the handlebars, straddling her bike. Then she edged her butt backward and searched for the seat. In vain, since she was going to have to raise herself to find it.
    He took a firm grip on the frame, keeping it steady for her. After a few seconds of fruitless fumbling, she craned her neck to see where the seat was actually located.
    â€œUm, Chris?” Her voice had become thready. Thin.