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He looked up as if sensing her ire. “What?” he asked.

“You really put the men in menace.”

He wasn’t even insulted by the assertion. “Don’t you mean man?” he asked, eyebrow arched. “Because I’m the singular?”

“No. Do you ever shut up? God, you’re so annoying.”

Narrowing his eyes, he quietly closed his book. He walked over to the register and grabbed the last apple crumble muffin, the very one she had been saving! She had even hidden it in the corner. He must have seen her do so, because he knew precisely where to reach.

Lucy gasped, outraged. Before she could spell the muffin from his hand, he stuck it in his mouth.

He grinned at her with a mouthful of muffin, then went back to reading, standing against a bookshelf. Calling on her magic, she hexed him so he’d keep losing his place in his book, which amused her greatly for a short bit. He kept making confused faces and shaking his head.

He realized it was her meddling hand about five minutes later, and she wished she had taken a picture of the aggravated face he made. She could have gotten it framed.

“Damn it, Lucinda. Stop it,” he ordered, voice severe. Pleasure shot through her.

She feigned innocence as she arranged the pastry display from behind the counter. “Stop what?”

He growled, snapping his book shut and setting it down. Huffing, he paced across the bookstore, trying to get away from her. That was when he noticed the New Releases section.

He balked, glancing back at her. “Those were alphabetical! That took me forever!”

He began rearranging them, and she stepped out from behind the counter. “Stop messing with them!” she cried. “They don’t look pretty in alphabetical order!”

She stalked over, but he wouldn’t let her touch the books, blocking her with his body. He was much larger than she was, so she knew it would be a lost battle. No matter. She had other weapons in her arsenal.

Stomping back to the counter, she waited a few moments, letting Grayson think he’d won. Then she hexed his glasses.

He stopped what he was doing, confused. She watched as he took his glasses off, cleaning them with the hem of his teal sweater before placing them back on his nose.

His shoulders stiffened with anger as he realized she’d hexed him; he whirled around. “Lucinda!” he hissed.

“Yes, dearest, darling Grayson?” she asked sweetly, smiling to herself. He attempted to stride over, but he couldn’t see, and he bumped into a table. He let out a cry of frustration.

She skipped his way, twirling in front of him, the hem of her skirt hitting his legs. “Need a hand?” she asked, offering him hers. He scowled, reaching for her, completely missing. She was enjoying herself quite a bit by then. “Are you sure?”

“For fuck’s sake!” he groaned, trying to grab her. She laughed out loud, spinning. He reached for her again, but this time, as he tried to maneuver around her, he clipped the table and lost his footing, falling into her.

She yelped as their bodies tumbled to the floor in a pile of tangled limbs. She landed beneath him, the wood hard under her back. “Oof.”

“Shit!” Grayson gasped, as the unmistakable crunch of broken lenses echoed from beneath them. “My glasses!” He moved around, trying to find them, and Lucy’s breath hitched as she felt his body against hers.

Suddenly, he paused, as if realizing how precarious the situation was. The heavy weight of his body settled over hers, pressing her into the floor. Her limbs felt liquefied. Their faces were inches apart.

Her heart rate spiked as his blue eyes stared down into hers. Even if he couldn’t see her clearly, she saw every inch of him: the cut of his cheekbones, the fan of his blond lashes. His throat moved as he swallowed, and she suddenly felt breathless.

“Jesus, why don’t you take me out for dinner first?” she said, trying to regain control. She expected a sarcastic retort, but he paused, face serious.

“Would you say yes?” he asked, voice low.

Her gaze dropped to his mouth. She licked her lips. “Depends. What’s for dessert?”

“Why don’t I give you a taste?”

He was looking at her mouth, his pupils blown wide. Her body pulsed. An ache spread through her, and she shifted her legs open ever so slightly, desperate to feel his body closer to hers.

He pressed against her, solid and heavy. Blood rushed in her ears. She wanted to move her hips, to rub closer, but she waited, wondering what he might do next.