I smile softly. “That tracks.”
She lets out a shaky laugh, tension easing just a fraction. “My life is messy, borderline insanity.”
“Good,” I murmur. “I need something to occupy my downtime.”
She studies me, searching. “Are you really sure?”
My hand settles at her hip. “I’m here, Katie. I’m not disappearing because things got hard.”
She goes quiet again, thinking. I don’t rush her. I let my thumb trace slowly, grounding circles at her side. Her shoulders relax.
“I think,” she whispers, “I can try.”
She leans in and her mouth finds mine with a softness I’ve never felt from her before. Her fingers slide into my hair, pulling me closer, and I swear I feel the moment she softens against me.
Her mouth opens, demanding me to take the kiss deeper and everything shifts. Her chest presses to mine, her breath mixing with my own as her body melts against mine.
When she finally pulls back, we hover there, foreheads nearly touching, breathing the same uneven air. Her lips are swollen, her pupils blown wide, and the look she gives me is nothing short of invitation.
I let a slow smirk pull at the corner of my mouth. “Have you ever fooled around in a library?”
Her eyes widen, then narrow. “You can’t be serious.”
“Dead serious, I want you, Katie,” I say, voice low. “Seems like a good place to teach you about letting someone else take control.”
She laughs and shakes her head. “This is my place of work, Wells.”
I kiss her again, softer this time, smiling against her mouth. “That means you know where the cameras are. Where can we be out of sight?”
Her breath hitches, and for once, she doesn’t argue, but she doesn’t answer me either.
“Kate?”
She looks up. “Yeah?”
“Where in here…” I say slowly, hands on her hips, guiding her from behind the desk, “Would we be safe from cameras?”
She pauses, because she knows exactly what I’m asking. I can see it in the way her pulse kicks at the base of her throat.
She thinks for a second, then whispers, “Fantasy.”
My smile sharpens. “Seems fitting.”
I reach over the counter, grab a cherry lollipop from the candy bowl she keeps on the front desk, and hold it between two fingers, pointing toward the fiction area. Her eyes follow the candy.
“Let’s go,” I say.
She turns, cheeks flushed, and leads me through the aisles. Her dress sways with every step, taunting me.
When we reach the Fantasy section—a narrow aisle tucked in the far corner—she stops and looks at me over her shoulder.
“There,” she says quietly. “No cameras.”
I step into her space, backing her against the shelves.
“Good,” I breathe, lifting the lollipop. “Do the security cameras have audio?”
She swallowshard, nodding.
