Adventures In An Alternate Dimension Book 2

Chapter 57 - The Scent of Apple Pie and Stolen Moments

Amber's POV

Rain lashed against the library windows, a symphony of drumming on the glass that usually lulled me into a comfortable, bookish trance. Today, however, the rhythm was a nervous counterpoint to the fluttering in my stomach. It was almost closing time, and a strange, uncharacteristic feeling of anticipation had been buzzing under my skin all afternoon.

The scent of lavender and old paper, the usual library aroma, mingled with something foreign, something sweet and yeasty. I wrinkled my nose, following the trail to the circulation desk. There, a figure stood hunched over, his back blocking the afternoon sun streaming through the window. My heart lurched. The figure straightened, and a wide grin split Tristan's face, revealing a dimple I never tired of.

"Hey there, stranger," he said, his voice a warm rumble that resonated through me like a cello.

"Tristan?" I choked out, completely thrown. "What are you doing here?"

He held out a bouquet, a dozen pink roses that perfectly mirrored the flush creeping up my neck. "Well, I thought I'd surprise you and I figured you could use a knight in not-so-shining armor to rescue you from the evil clutches of overdue books," he teased, his eyes sparkling. "And maybe a pick-me-up after a long day."

I took the roses, their velvety texture sending shivers down my arms. The library's scent, usually comforting, suddenly felt stuffy and confined. All I wanted was to breathe in the crisp, rain-washed air that clung to Tristan, along with the faint, tantalizing aroma of... apple pie?

"Is that...?" I trailed off, peering past the roses. A brown paper bag, crinkled and inviting, rested on the counter.

Tristan chuckled, a low sound that made my knees weak. "Grandma Sue sent her famous apple pie. Said it wouldn't survive another night under Uncle Jacob's nose."

A wave of warmth washed over me. Sue, my kind and good hearted grandmother, her apple pie was legendary, its crust flaky and golden, its filling a symphony of sweet and tart, spiced with a secret blend of cinnamon and who-knows-what else.

"You shouldn't have," I murmured, touched. "This must've been a nightmare to get here in this weather."

"Nonsense," Tristan scoffed, leaning against the counter. His wet hair, usually styled in a ponytail or a braid, was plastered to his forehead. It was a look that should've been messy, but somehow, on him, it was endearingly disheveled. "Besides, the drive was beautiful. The whole valley's a sea of green after all this rain."

We stood there for a moment, a comfortable silence settling between us, punctuated only by the drumming on the windows. I couldn't help but steal glances at him, memorizing the way his damp shirt clung to his broad shoulders, the way his eyes crinkled at the corners when he smiled.

"So," Tristan finally said, breaking the silence. "What do you say we make a run for it? Clock out early and head back to La Push for some pie and... well," he added with a wink, "whatever else the evening holds."

The thought of escaping the confines of the library, of stealing away with Tristan to our spot nestled amongst the ancient trees of the reservation, was incredibly tempting. But a niggling sense of responsibility held me back.

"I still have to finish my shift," I reminded him, gesturing towards the overflowing book cart by the counter. "And it's pouring outside."

Tristan rolled his eyes playfully. "We can handle a little rain, Amber. Besides, wouldn't it be fun? A race against the clock, a dash through the downpour, a grand adventure that ends with warm pie and..." his voice trailed off, leaving the sentence unfinished, his gaze lingering on my lips.