Hannah and the Hitman

Chapter 17

17

HANNAH

A few hours later, I was in the stacks shelving books, still freaking out about my new talent. With it being summer, it was a quiet afternoon. Smaller children were down for their afternoon naps. Big kids usually avoided the library until they were back in school in the fall. Mrs. Metcalf didn’t work today so if someone needed help, they’d ring the little bell on the circulation desk. I pushed the cart I’d lifted like a circus freak to the end of one row, around the corner and down another.

I started whispering to myself. “So you can lift heavy things. There’s nothing wrong with that. It’s a good thing! Sure, everyone knows last week you couldn’t lift a three-legged baby squirrel and now you can practically bench press a car. Okay, maybe that’s an exaggeration, but everything’s fine! ”

A hand on the front of the cart stopped it. And me. And my thoughts.

I squeaked louder than the cart and put a hand to my chest.

“Oh my God, Jack. You scared me.” I wasn’t sure if my heart was beating so hard because he’d startled me or if I was pleased to see him. Either way, he was unexpected.

In another dark suit, this time with a blue tie, he looked as delicious as ever. Did he wear anything else? Did his closet have one long line of fancy clothes? He never did tell me if he was a mortician and I had to wonder.

He offered me a smile I hadn’t seen the day before, not when we’d been with my parents. His eyes moved over me, my face, my outfit, then pierced into mine. “Sorry, gorgeous.”

Gorgeous? I wasn’t so sure about that. I was in a striped sundress I thought was cute and comfortable sandals since I stood most of the day, but nothing more than that.

“What are you doing here?” I wondered. He’d made it very clear the night before that he wasn’t interested.

“You didn’t respond to my text.”

I frowned. “What text?” I wasn’t all that popular, and it wasn’t like my cell rang all the time. If he’d texted, I would have known. “Wait, did you send the ‘hi’ message?”

He nodded. “Everything I wanted to say wouldn’t have come across well in a text, so I settled on the basics.”

Hi was definitely basic.

“I thought it was spam and blocked the number. I didn’t know it was you,” I countered. “I… didn’t expect you to call. I mean, not after the dinner.”

“I said I’d call. ”

I nodded. “You did. But they’re toss-away words. Things people say when they don’t mean it.”

“I meant it,” he said, a little snap to his words. He ran a hand over the back of his neck. “I’m sorry I left in the middle of the meal. I had an important client call to take.”

I looked at his chin. At the arch of his brow. At his very kissable mouth. “That’s okay. I understand. You didn’t have to come all the way from Denver though to tell me that. A short text would have been fine.” He arched a brow, and I couldn’t help but smile. “Okay, a little bit longer of a text than hi. ”

He took a step closer, and I had to tilt my chin back to meet his eyes. “I came from Denver to do more than apologize.”

I licked my lips. Suddenly, the air was thick, almost soupy with… God, lust.

“Oh?” I said, not sure what else to say. He looked good. He smelled good. He scrambled my brain.

It was quiet and sheltered between the stacks of books. Like we were in our own little world like on the airplane, only much quieter and without the fart smell.

He shook his head, then moved, not stopping until he had me backed against one of the stacks, his firm, muscly body pressed against mine. He was hard everywhere. “I came to do this.”

And then he kissed me.