Page 35 of Lucky Haven

Are people really going to believe this?

But Mercy and Jasper both did. The diner was busy enough that by tomorrow, I’ll know what people think because I’ll hear about it at the library.

When we get to my house, I let us in. As he follows me inside, his big body brushing against mine in the entrance way, there’s another warm frizzle of chemistry.

Which is reason enough to get right back to business. I hang my purse on the hook where it lives, then retrieve my notebook.

My hands shake.

Crap.

“I’m just going to get changed,” I stammer.

He nods. “For sure, take the day off. Can I read again?”

Nodding, I whirl around, drop the notebook on the side table beside the couch, and flee to my bedroom.

Years ago, I realized working as a librarian was a good excuse to dress up, to do what I like to think of as…subtle cosplay. On the surface, it’s polished and professional, but I find a way to channel some of my favourite characters into my outfits.

There’s something about Cash, the way he looks at me with searching curiosity…well, it’s important that he not mistake the persona for the real me, because he would be disappointed.

As I unzip my dress and hang it up, my tummy flutters at the thought of returning to the living room. Will we kiss again? Should I dress accordingly? Do I even own anything that would be better or worse for making out?

You aren’t going to make out with Cash, stop it.

But I’m not a dummy. He said he likes kissing me. I’ve told him how I much I like kissing him. He’s a man who sleeps with anyone who smiles at him, it seems, so he’ll probably be⁠—

I squeak and grab a t-shirt, yanking it over my head.

There’s no good that can come from spinning over what ifs. I just need to go out there and talk to him.

Zipping up my jeans and smoothing them over my hips is good. I can’t look any more average. That’s good. It’s important that I not forget myself, that I not forget that Cash is doing me a favour here, as agreeable as he is to it.

In the living room, he’s made himself at home on my couch, and he’s got his nose buried in The Mist at Dawn’s Edge.

“Water?” I ask.

“Yes, thanks.”

The only real place to sit is right next to him on the couch. He sets aside the book and takes the glass I’ve brought him.

“You all right?” His smile crinkles the corners of his eyes.

“Yes,” I stammer. And then laugh. “No! I’m so nervous.”

“I’m glad you can tell me that. What’s got you so nervous? We’re just two friends helping each other out. And borrowing each other’s books.”

“Does that mean you’re taking that one home tonight?”

“Nah, I think I’m going to keep reading it here every night. Really get your neighbours talking about how much time I spend here. Maybe tomorrow night I’ll bring food over and cook for you. Some of that mutually beneficial stuff you were talking about.”

“Right. The rules.” I twist and grab the notebook.

He takes it from me, letting it drop to the couch between us. “Hang on a second.”

“It’s just that I think⁠—”

He cups my face and cuts me off with a soft kiss.