Page 67 of Already Callin’ You Mine

“You’re not much of a social media guy, huh?”

Jace shakes his head. “Nope. Better ways to spend my time.”

“Such as?” I ask, realizing too late how nosey that question is.

“Family, friends, reading.”

Did he just say reading? Didn’t see that coming.

“Reading? Really?”

Jace nods.

“Wow.” I blink hard, my brain whirring. Jace is a reader. “I’m jealous. I can’t remember the last time I read a book that wasn’t Goodnight Moon.”

“If you ever need a recommendation, I’m your man.”

I laugh, drawing my feet up onto the couch and tucking them under me. “I highly doubt we’re into the same books.”

“Try me.”

I swallow hard, not sure that I would even know how to question him. It’s been that long since I read for fun. To the point where I can’t even remember the title of the last book. Undoubtedly it was something that Cody made fun of, but that’s not saying much. I don’t think he’s cracked any kind of book his entire adult existence.

“Favorite genre?” I ask, turning the tables, trying to take the focus off me.

Jace smirks, like he knows he’s holding the winning hand at a poker game. “Romance.”

I freeze. Narrowing my eyes, I study him, trying to figure out where that answer came from. If he’s trying to mock me. Or lead me on somehow. He must have seen the small collection of books I have stacked in the built-in in my bedroom from pre-Otis days. Ones I’m holding on to in the hopes that maybe one night before bed I’ll have the brainpower to read, rather than fall over from exhaustion.

“No, really. What do you like to read?” I push.

Jace scoots forward, pulling a leg out from under me and running his hand up my calf. The soft, easy touch tickles, even through my jeans, but is also soothing.

“Romance,” he repeats. “Owen dared me to read one in college, so I stole one of Willa’s. And to my surprise, I liked it. And not for the reasons you’re thinking.”

Busted…

“I wasn’t thinking anything.” I hold up my hands in mock surrender. It’s a lie; my mind did immediately go there. Assuming that he was only in it for the steamy bits.

He shrugs. “Everyone does. But they can think what they want. I enjoy the stories. Seeing all the fun ways that an author can take the same trope and spin it. Plus, there’s enough bad shit in the world; it’s nice to know the story will end happy.”

He’s not wrong about that.

“Plus, I’ve learned a few things.” He winks, pairing it with that trademark smirk, setting me on fire.

I swallow hard, my composure all but incinerated with that single move. I want to know. But I’m too afraid to ask. Too afraid of putting myself out there like that. Of opening up to where this conversation might lead.

I need to woman up. I’m a badass at work. I can be a badass at this too.

“Such as?”

Jace licks his lips, that sexy-as-fuck smirk managing to grow even bigger. It does things to me—things I can’t name or understand, but that leave me tingly and full of longing. Being on the receiving end of that look is the stuff of fantasies.

Very specifically, my fantasies.

“Are you asking for a show and tell?”

I….errrr…ummmmm…am I?