“There’s nothing for the date the war ended.” She attempted to hoist the heavy tome back on the shelf above her head where it came from. “Any luck with yours?”
“Nope. I flipped through several pages before and after my number, too, just in case.”
“Same.” Elisa fumbled to reach the book’s proper shelf slot. “I guess it’s back to the drawing board.”
The book slipped from her fingers. Elisa shrieked as she ducked and threw her other arm up to protect her head. But Noah was there, catching the bound volume and easily sliding it into place. “Careful.”
“Th-thank you.” She slowly straightened, her gaze lifting from his shirt stretched tight across his chest to the permanent stubble etching his chin. Her gaze rose another inch to his lips, the ones she’d almost kissed twice now in the last week.
She suddenly couldn’t remember why she hadn’t.
His right arm remained lifted to the shelf above their heads, and that, combined with the surrounding shelves, provided a barricade that somehow felt much more comforting than suffocating. In fact, the whole vibe made her think of soft hoodies and cut-off shorts by a bonfire. Snuggling on driftwood and roasting marshmallows. Her pulse thudded.
The summer of Noah.
His voice dipped low. “I guess the courthouse is dangerous this time of night.”
“Very.”
He was right. But the entire bookshelf could collapse on her right this second and it wouldn’t be nearly as dangerous as what Noah was doing to her heart rate. She dared to look into his eyes, which were hooded with caution. Most unfortunate.
She reached out, trailing her finger down his forearm still lifted above them. Goosebumps immediately pebbled his skin.
“Elisa…” A warning echoed in his voice as his entire body stiffened.
“Yes?” She inched closer and tilted her face toward him, the near-kisses from the past cheering her on. It’d be a shame to waste such chemistry, right? Unforgivable, really.
All the reasons she’d turned Noah down a few hours ago hovered just out of reach, and she mentally batted them away like the pesky gnats they were. No longer important. She offered a soft smile. “I’m right here.”
“I’m very aware of that.” His tone, coated in gravel, sent a shiver of motivation up her spine.
She edged closer. “So what are you going to do about it?”
“Your shoes.” His voice cracked.
“I can get new ones.” Then she closed her eyes and launched into his arms.
Her lips found his by pure muscle memory. Time stopped. His right arm came down from the shelf to wrap around her, his other hand landing firm on her waist and gripping tight. His lips worked with hers in a choreographed dance they hadn’t practiced in years, but had never forgotten. Joy and shock jolted through her like lightning bolts—no, like lightning bugs—beautiful and hard to explain.
Elisa’s fingers clenched his biceps, which tightened under her grip. Then her hands, as if with a mind of their own, crawled up his shoulders and latched around his neck. She nudged his hat out of the way with her fingers, and he let go of her with one hand long enough to knock it off to the floor, out of the way.
She couldn’t get close enough. Someone was groaning. Was it her? No, him.
Maybe both of them.
With a quick side step, Noah turned them, pressing her into the shelf of books, the hard volumes providing a convenient back support as her hands found their way into his hair. He growled deep in his throat, briefly coming up for air before reclaiming her lips.
But they’d always been his, hadn’t they?
Her breath stuttered, mingling with his as Noah’s lips teased their way across her jaw to her ear. Color exploded behind her eyes. The scent of cedar and something earthy, like the beach after a hard rain, worked their way through her senses and lit her stomach. If that Noah-scent could be bottled, she’d go broke on cologne purchases.
He returned to her lips before she had a chance to miss him, deepening the kiss and pulling her hard against his chest. Confidence radiated from every movement, but the slight tremble in his arms testified to the contrary. A fact that sent her reeling.
She’d never felt this way with Trey. Or with the few other men she’d kissed. Even kissing Noah back in the day couldn’t compare with this version of him.
How had she lived the past twelve years without it?
Then a thought occurred, and she mentally flicked it away. But it came back, sticky and persistent. She pulled away, gasping for a full breath as Noah pressed another kiss against her cheek. “Noah?”
