Page 69 of That Rush

“You gave me a closing time.”

She pushes the book into place and turns, her eyes dropping to the cups in my hand. “Is one of those bribery?”

“I brought coffee.”

“You don’t know how I take mine.”

“That’s why the bag has cream, sugar, and every artificial sweetener they had.”

Her laugh echoes in the quiet aisle. “A man with a plan. And a lot of sugar packets.”

“Learning your coffee order seemed easier than guessing.”

Her teasing softens before she walks toward me and takes the cup I hold out.

“I use one sugar.”

I pass her the bag. “Now I know.”

“Yes, Rancher. You have successfully collected one fact.” She adds a packet to the cup.

“How many books are left?”

“Fourteen.”

“I can wait. I was told the men in these books would already be here.”

Her smile curves against the lid. “They also arrive with dramatic declarations and questionable respect for employment policies.”

“I brought coffee and stayed out of your way.”

“So far.”

She pushes the cart deeper into the stacks. I follow at a distance that lets her work, my eyes tracing the line of her legs. She shelves three books before she glances back and catches me.

“My eyes are up here.”

“I know where they are.”

“Is that your standard defense?”

“Axel.”

“What were you staring at then?”

“My phone.”

“Anything interesting?”

“No one else talks to me about putting my mouth between her thighs while I’m repairing a fence.”

“Maybe your social circle lacks imagination.”

“It lacks women I want in my bed.”

A flush rises on her throat, and she turns back to the book, suddenly focused on the shelf. “Five thirty Friday morning. Meet me at the cabin.”

“That early?”