Page 40 of Beautiful Place By the Sea

“Hmm?”

His eyes are bright on my face. “I asked how your day was.”

“Oh.” I hate that I’m so flustered. “You were with me all day. You know how it was.”

“Shoreline was slammed,” he counters. “We barely spoke.”

He’s right, of course. “It was fine. I met a very nice lady who wanted recommendations for spicy romantasy.”

Oliver smirks. “Don’t you love that so many New York Times Best Sellers are basically porn?”

There goes the blood, rushing to my cheeks again. I can feel it. “I mean, I guess that’s one way of looking at it.”

“So which one did you tell her to buy?” He looks so smug, I can’t stand it.

“I suggested a few.” I swipe my eyes covertly to the left and see his self-satisfied grin.

“Ivy, you don’t seem the type,” he says sardonically.

I turn to face him now. “I’m just giving the customers what they want.”

“I’m sure.” His voice drips with amusement.

Shooting him my best glare, I decide to shift the conversation elsewhere. “I also got to listen to the most adorable little boy read all of Green Eggs and Ham aloud. He was so excited; he was running up to everyone in the children’s area and asking if we’d be his audience.”

Oliver’s smile is genuine now. “That does sound adorable. I love it when kids are excited about reading.” He considers me carefully. “I suppose that might be part of what led you to work as a school librarian.”

The reminder of Farnsworth hits like a gut punch, but I nod. “Pretty much.”

We’re at the library now, and Oliver holds the heavy wooden door open for me. “After you,” he offers. My heart skips a beat when his hand briefly comes to rest on my shoulder as he guides me inside.

The library is an old Cape Cod-style house that’s been lovingly treated to a series of boxy additions over the years. It’s packed to the brim with books, but everything seems orderly and exceptionally clean. The air is thick with the smell of paper and leather and time, the appeal of which only a true lit nerd can appreciate.

“I’ll meet you back here in 20 minutes?” Oliver’s baritone breaks me out of my book trance.

“Oh.” I’d assumed we’d be browsing together. “Um, okay?”

“I need to go look for something over there.” He gestures over his shoulder to where the nonfiction is kept. “I assume you’re seeking fiction today.”

I incline my head. “Yeah, probably.”

“See you in a bit.” He walks away quickly, almost too quickly, like he’s extremely averse to the notion of me following him.

Is he actually going to look at erotic literature?

No way, the librarian in me protests. That wouldn’t be shelved in the nonfiction section.

I manage to find eight novels I want to borrow. Several are part of a romantasy series I’d started before leaving for vacation, and the rest catch my eye on the New Releases endcap.

When I’m done, I find that Oliver’s waiting for me near the circulation desk just like he promised, three books shoved in the crook of his arm.

“What do you have there?” I lean closer to inspect their spines.

He lurches away. “Just some reference stuff.”

My brows knit together. What the hell is going on? I force a smile. “Is this the erotic lit you were talking about?”

A surprised laugh tumbles from his throat. “Something like that. Come on, let’s go.”