Hi. Remember me? I’m Sam Cleary.
Hey, it’s SamRam Cleary from back in the day. Thank you for never calling me by that annoying nickname, by the way.
Hey, baby. I’ve got your hardcover right here.
No, no, and hell no.
The wheels of her luggage rolled silently behind a shelf of books near the back wall, but I kept my stroll at a leisurely pace. And then there she was, standing in the middle of the aisle in front of a section of battered paperbacks, her mouth slanting into that same adorable frown while she scanned them.
I jerked to a stop and pretended fascination with the books at the end of the aisle, suddenly feeling like a creeper sneaking after her like this. Anything that fell out of my mouth would sound too wannabe-stalker, but if I acted like just some guy in the library, a stranger with a book fetish, then maybe our “mutual interest” would put her at ease. I’d share my real identity like some kind of superhero when I was sure I wouldn’t send her screaming out of the...
Wait a second. I tipped several books out of their spaces. An awful lot of these books had half-naked men on their covers. Fuck, was I in theromancesection?
A throaty laugh to my right snapped me out of my horror.
“You don’t look like a men-in-kilts type of guy,” she said. “No offense.”
“Yeah. None taken. I think I’m in the wrong section.” I nodded and slid her a grin I knew from experience would liquefy women’s panties. Judging from the blush brightening her cheeks, mission accomplished. What I wouldn’t give to slide my fingers over her heated skin, feel the give of those plump lips, then track lower to see just how wet I’d made her. Right here in the romance section. Fuck those men in kilts.
“Um, so what are you looking for?” she asked, her gaze directed everywhere but me.
You, I wanted to say since it was the truth. Instead, I said, “Automotive. I’m a mechanic.” Also the truth.
She nodded. “Instead of taking a left after the circulation desk, you should have taken a right. Automotive is in the 600s.”
“Thanks,” I said, and didn’t even pretend to move in that direction.
She seemed to notice I was perfectly comfy right there, taking all of her in, and her eyebrows drew together as if I’d just given her an uncrackable riddle. “You’re a reader?”
“God, no.”
She went back to scanning the paperbacks, as if she was dismissing me for more important things.
Okay, no more truth, since that wasn’t exactly what a hot book addict wanted to hear. All I usually needed to do was eye-fuck a girl until she was begging to ride me, which was hard to do behind sunglasses. But Paige wasn’t the type of girl I normally hung out with. She was smarter, better. Always had been.
Maybe it was the heat outside or the library’s arctic air conditioning, but my mouth felt like I’d just swallowed the desert. I ran my tongue over my bottom lip. My whole body clenched while Paige’s eyes tracked the movement.
She traced a slow finger over several books on a shelf, her gaze never leaving my mouth, and there was something so sexual about the way she caressed them, I nearly choked.
“I mean, sometimes I read.” Wow. Not much better at all, asshole.
Her dark eyes searched my face, a playful glint inside them. “You just like to look?” she asked. Her voice held a note of playfulness that cracked a grin across my face.
She was playing with me like some kind of sparkly toy. And I liked it.
“I do like to look.”
“I can see that,” she said with a lifted eyebrow.
What was I supposed to look at? The books?
I waved an arm at her luggage. “Do you always bring your luggage to the library?”
She glanced at me coolly. “Not always.”
“I see,” I said, leaning against the shelves with my arms crossed. I let my gaze roam over her while she stretched on tiptoe for a book. God forbid I offer to help since the view was just fine from here. “Let me guess, your house burned down, and the suitcases and their contents are what’s left.”
“Not even close,” she said, shaking her head. “And how would I have time to pack if my house burned down?”
