Page 2 of The Fake Out

I stuck a hand on my hip, gripping the broom in the other like some kind of book witch. Oooh. Book Witch. I needed that on a t-shirt.

“The Duke’s lips trailed along her cheekbone, his tongue traced the delicate shell of her ear,” my phone read aloud.

“Oh, crap,” I jolted, remembering the audiobook that had been playing the whole time.

“‘Fellows, you must stop,’ she protested and then, belying her words, leaned into him. ‘I’ll be ruined if someone see us.’ But she didn’t pull away when his fingers began to touch—”

My heart racing, I tossed the broom and scrambled to get my phone from the cart. Frantically, I jabbed at the screen until the audio stopped.

“Now why’d you go and do that? It was just getting interesting,” a deep voice said, a touch of humor laced in his words.

I gasped; my gaze darted to the man. Nothing about his position had changed, save for his eye, which was now open, and the corner of his mouth I could see was tilted up.

For some reason, this half-smile irritated me. My spine straightened and I whisper-screamed at him, “Why are you sleeping in my library?”

It should be noted that all librarians learn to whisper-scream. And to shush people.

Lazily, he stretched his arms, taking his baseball cap off to reveal a head of dark hair that was just a shade too long. It curled around his ears and dusted his forehead. The scruff on his face was equally dark. All of that should have made him look unkempt and messy. But it did not. Not at all.

He gestured toward the book he now held in one hand. “Sorry about that. Thought I’d do a little reading.”

My eyes darted to the book, and I frowned. “The American Medical Association Guide to Preventing and Treating Heart Disease?”

“Knowledge is power,” he said, his voice deep and tinged with a drawl of the Southern variety. It drew my eyes right back up to the source, his mouth. A wide grin met me there, still a little sleepy around the edges.

That smile. Friendly. Open. Charming.

But I’d spent twenty-six years on this earth. While I knew I still had a lot to learn, I did know one thing: that smile meant trouble and I didn’t want trouble. My own mother had spent all my life playing with trouble and all it had gotten her were a world of heartache, a few extra callouses on her feet, and nothing in the bank.

So no, I wasn’t impressed with that smile. It didn’t cause any sort of tingling anywhere in my body. That was just irritation racing down my spine.

“The library is closed,” I snapped. “Didn’t you hear the four announcements I made?”

His smile slipped a bit as he sat up in the chair. “I guess I missed them. I honestly didn’t mean to.”

I waved a hand in the air. “Nap time is over.”

He nodded and stood. It took a while because he was about twelve feet tall. And not the skinny, beanpole kind of tall either. The strong, lean, wide-shouldered kind of tall, like he ran five miles a day as his warmup and then worked out. He stretched an arm, settled his hat back on his head, and took a curious look at me, from the tip of my toes to the top of my hair. “Nice shirt.”

It was my I Will Dewey Decimate You shirt—I’d gotten it for myself on my last birthday.

“Thank you, and goodbye.” I took a step back so he could walk by.

He shrugged, looking a little confused, but he took the hint and held out the book in my direction. I had to tip my head back a bit to see his face, which was saying something—I was 5’10” barefoot.

“I’m sorry for any inconvenience I may have caused you,” he said. His voice sounded sincere.

I blinked, not expecting his words. This close I could see his eyes were a brown so light and warm they reminded me of fresh honey on…

Knock that off right now. I was not waxing poetic about his eyes. They were brown. Normal, brown eyes. The most common of all eye colors. Cows had brown eyes. He had cow eyes. Nothing remotely interesting about that. Unless you were a female cow on the prowl. Which I was not. Obviously.

I snatched the book from his hand. “It’s fine,” I said, my tone implying it was anything but.

He nodded solemnly but I swore his eyes crinkled at the corners like he was stifling a grin. I trailed behind as he made his way to the door. On the way, I grabbed my keys off the circulation desk and scurried around him to jam them in the lock. Holding open the door, I waved him through. He paused in front of me, his brow creased like he was trying to figure me out.

No, thank you.

With a shrug, he took a couple of steps and then stopped and turned around. “I did have a question, if you don’t mind.”