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His gaze shoots back up to mine.
I quickly clamp a hand over my mouth, trying to stifle my laughter. "I'm sorry," I gasp. "Oh my gosh. I'm so sorry. Please don't look down."
Naturally, he looks down.
"I said don't look down!" I cry, kicking the novel—book gods, please forgive me—in a desperate attempt to hide it from his gaze. It's already too late for that though.
"Jesus H. Christ," he whispers, bending down to snatch it up. He opens it like a newspaper in front of his face, makes a choked sound, and then lowers it to look at me over the top. "He has eight cocks."
"Um, I'm pretty sure those aren't penises," I whisper, blushing beet red.
He lifts the book up in front of his face again, turns it around, examines it for a minute, and then makes another choked sound before quickly slamming it shut. "You're right," he mutters, rolling it up and shoving it into his back pocket. "Those aren't dicks. Those are definitely not dicks." The tips of his ears turn red. Oh my goodness. This gorgeous hulk of a man is actually blushing! He reaches up to rub the back of his neck, his eyes lingering on my face.
"You look like you want to flee," I whisper.
"So do you." A sheepish grin spreads across his face.
"I just assaulted you with tentacle porn." My cheeks are so red they're flaming. I press my hands to them, hoping that'll cool them down. "For the record, it isn't mine. Um, I wasn't buying it. I wasn't reading it either." I huff out a breath. "What I'm trying to say is that I work here."
Maddie and Allie recently opened the bookstore and are still learning the ins and outs of book purchasing. It's a big job! Before I moved to Silver Spoon Falls to take care of my elderly aunt, I was an elementary school librarian. Now, I help out around here. They do the heavy lifting. I keep the place tidy, help customers find what they need, and then check them out when they're done.
Okay, and read all the dirty books when no one else is looking. What's the fun of working in a bookstore if you don't read all the dirty books?Exactly.I'm a twenty-four-year-old virgin who can't even speak to men without turning the same general shade as a tomato. A girl's gotta get her thrills somewhere.
"But you know it's called tentacle porn."
"I…I…" I splutter, searching for any explanation that doesn't make me look like a crazy person, and then his deep chuckle rolls over me, and I realize he's just teasing me. "Oh, so you think you're funny," I growl, planting my hands on my hips. "I almost choked on my own tongue!"
"At least it wasn't a–"
"Don't you say it," I hiss, practically squirming in humiliation. He's way too hot to be this cute too. "I can never unsee what I just saw, and it's all your fault!"
"How the fuck is this my fault?" He folds his arms across his chest, his eyes narrowing behind his glasses. "I just came in to buy books."
"You distracted me," I mumble, leaving out the part about him distracting me by being hot. He's already got enough dirt on me for a lifetime, and I don't even know his name. Knowing I need to get myself together, I kneel to start gathering up the mess at our feet.
Only he seems to have the same idea because he kneels at the exact same moment. We bump into each other. I'm clumsy on a good day, and today is not one of those. I land sprawled across the bottom step with him kneeling at my feet in a sea of comic books. His dark head comes up, his eyes locked on mine. For a long moment, neither of us moves. I'm not sure I even breathe.
My stomach flips and spins and then does it again, putting on an Olympics-worthy performance. My heart thuds against my breastbone so hard I'm sure he probably hears it.
"The fucking water," he mutters again, those gorgeous green eyes writing entire volumes without a single word passing his lips. "What's your name, pretty baby?"
"Scarlett Crawford."
"Scarlett Crawford," he repeats. "I'm Finn Taylor."
"Cool," I whisper, making him smile.
"You aren't from around here."
"How do you know?"
His lips tip up into a little boy smile that makes my stomach quiver. "I know everything about this town, Scarlett Crawford from Gatsby Books. It's what I do."
"What you do?" Confusion furrows my brows and wrinkles my nose. "What does that mean? Are you a historian or something?"
He laughs quietly. "Not quite. I own a computer security business."
"Oh." I frown as something tickles at the back of my mind. When I moved to town to help take care of my Aunt Ophelia a few months ago, she insisted on telling me everything there is to know about everyone who lives in Silver Spoon Falls. I think she mentioned something about this man. Only, she made him sound like a super-spy who spends all his time locked in a secret lab doing super-secret spy things for ungodly amounts of money. If this is the same man, my aunt left out about five million pertinent details. Because this man is way hotter than I expected. He's also doing crazy things to my insides. And I just assaulted him with tentacle porn.
