Page 51 of Library or Lattes?

I raised my eyebrows and allowed myself another smile as I let him lead me into a book aisle. The romance aisle.

“What are we doing here?” I asked.

“Research,” he said seriously, and started examining the rows of books.

I laughed. “I’m not sure you’re going to find too much useful information in this aisle.”

“And that’s where you’re wrong.” Theo pulled out a book and studied the cover. A shirtless man and a woman in a bikini. Their skin was shiny, like they’d been dipped in fryer grease. But in a sexy way?

“I don’t think I’m wrong,” I giggled, and moved beside him so we were both looking at the book. Forbidden Nights.

“Well, I did some of my own research the other day, just to see if any of these other books are as educational as Playing Doctor …” He opened the book and flipped through the pages, leaving the words in the air.

“Are you ever going to forget about that?”

“Absolutely not,” he whispered. He put Forbidden Nights back on the shelf and scanned the book spines again. “Oh, here it is.” He pulled out another book and showed me the cover.

A London Affair.

I stifled a laugh. It was hard to stay quiet in the library sometimes.

“Don’t laugh. It’s very relevant to your research.” He opened the book and looked through it like he’d done with the last one.

“Oh, really?”

He ran his finger down one of the pages. “Ah yes, here it is …”

Then he started reading to me, in a low whisper. I leaned against his shoulder.

“The rain-soaked streets of London provided the perfect backdrop as he pressed her against the cold wall of the alley, his body shielding her from the downpour … ‘We should go inside,’ she whispered.

“ ‘Should we?’ His hand found the curve of her waist under her silk blouse. The heat of his hand on her skin made her ache for him. ‘Maybe we should stay right here?’“

My face was on fire. “I’m not sure that’s helpful for my research …”

“Wait, there’s more …” He started reading again.

“His lips found her neck as the rain continued to fall, and she forgot to be cold, forgot to be proper, forgot about everything as his hands—”

It was too much. I snatched the book away from him and shoved it back into one of the shelves.

“What’s wrong, Doc? I’m just trying to help you prepare for London. For all the wall-pressing in alleys that might happen …” He turned so he was facing me, my back against the bookshelf. He pressed against me and I let him.

“You’re blushing,” he said, leaning in close.

“I am not,” I lied.

“Which part did this?” He reached up and stroked my burning cheek. “The rain? The alley? Or”—he slid his hand underneath my shirt and found the curve of my waist—”the hand under the coat?”

And I answered by kissing him. Not gentle and sweet like before, but hungry. His hand was in my hair, and I didn’t even care that book spines were hurting my spine, I was way too focused on the way he tasted, how he smelled, the closeness of our bodies, and that noise he made when I pulled him even closer to me.

Someone cleared their throat. “The library is closing in five minutes.”

We broke apart just in time to see Jo raise an eyebrow and walk back toward her desk.

I gasped and covered my mouth.

“Oh no, I can’t believe she saw that.” My face flushed for the thousandth time that night.