The big question in Trixie’s mind wouldn’t stop bothering her. What about S-E-X? Like, she knew how to do it – that you light candles and put rose petals on the bed and light jazz or whatever – but with David, she wanted it to be special. And also, it had been such a long time for her – almost two weeks since Alistair had been lost at sea! – and she wasn’t sure she even remembered how it worked anymore.
She sighed sensuously. How did a small-town librarian with nerdy and demure but also secretly kind of sexy glasses who had never left her small town – never even left the library! – end up in such a predicament? Out of nowhere, three men had disrupted her quiet life among the stacks and changed it forever – an architect from the big city; a soft-spoken ranch-hand from some kind of ranch where you have pitchforks or whatever but don’t have to work with manure; and now a helicopter detective?! How she longed to be back inside that helicopter, spinning through the air on the way to a crime scene and Frenching passionately with David as the wind rushed through her hair but not too much.
She sighed languorously. Perhaps life would have been easier if Xavier and James and David hadn’t all accidentally turned up in her small town due to, respectively, an architects’ convention and a dark past that was best left behind, some kind of farm-related thing, and a broken down crime helicopter. At least she had her library and her passion for teaching children about the joy of reading books or magazines or whatever. She sighed obstreperously. And what about S-E-X?