At least there’s electricity and a water heater. Have to be thankful for the small things.

Before I leave, I take the opportunity to pick out some reading material for the evening. Normally, I gravitate toward historical romance, loving the brief trip I get to take into ornate ballrooms from centuries ago. But a particular style of font on one book spine captures my attention.

Similar to what I’ve seen stitched on the back of a leather jacket.

Minutes later, I’m heading to the checkout with a motorcycle-club romance novel and trying hard not to think about my motivations.

“I’ve read this one. It’s really good.” The white woman with vibrant red hair who scans the barcode gives me an approving nod.

“Good to know. I’ve never read her work before.” I hand over my temporary library card. Luckily, I was able to get a card, even as an out-of-towner. Five bucks and unlimited books? I didn’t hesitate.

Still, I miss using my nice, sturdy Denver public library card. Plastic is so much more official.

“You new to town?” she asks, fingering the flimsy card stock before waving it under the scanner.

“Kind of. I’m just here to clean out my grandmother’s house. She passed away in March.”

“I’m sorry to hear that.”

“I didn’t know her that well.” I didn’t know her at all. Guilt pricks at my gut to accompany the thought. “Maybe you did? Her name was Minnie Gunner.”

The librarian shakes her head. “I just moved here at the beginning of the summer, so our paths wouldn’t have crossed.”

You moved here? Why?

The questions flash through my brain, but I’m able to cut them off before they tumble out of my mouth.

“I’m Juliet.” The woman offers her name as she hands my book back to me.

“I’m Zoey.”

“Well, Zoey, I hope you enjoy your book. I read it years ago but devoured it in one night. Couldn’t put it down. Something about a man on a bike …” Juliet trails off, her face turning as red as her hair. “Never mind. I did not mean to say that.”

Glancing down at the cover of the book, where we see a muscular guy dressed in a leather vest, I can’t help but grin. Plus, I get the sudden urge to put the librarian at ease. No judgment here.

“I met a member of The Dark Moon Riders the other day. So, I might be in a biker kind of mood. Do you know anyone in the club?”

Juliet shrugs, but her flush starts to fade, her mouth tilting into a frown. “Seen them around town. Maybe said a few words to one or two.”

The tight tone she uses has my interest bells ringing.

“Is there something wrong with them?”