Wild (Wild #1)

Two

A week went by and I didn't run into the sexy stranger.

Probably because I didn't leave the house.

Well, that wasn't true. I left to go to the library. But that was it. I'd stocked up on food and given myself no reason to leave the cabin, but running out of books was unacceptable. I couldn't stand not having something to read.

I'd considered getting an e-reader, but I was old-fashioned. I loved the smell of books, the paper beneath my fingers, the evidence in the back of the library book that it had been enjoyed for many years by many people. It filled me up inside.

One afternoon, I wandered through aisles at the library and the old librarian, Mrs. Barton, who I'd quickly come to realize was the wife of my landlord, offered me a job. She'd offered to pay me under the table, which was more than I ever could have hoped for.

I sighed with relief and agreed without hesitation.

The position was only a few days a week; I'd need more at some point. But I had enough savings to live on for a while, and the rent was so cheap I wasn't blowing through the money I had. Plus, it would give me a purpose. Something to do with my time instead of staring out the window at that rocky coast, watching the boats troll by.

I felt right at home on my first day at the library. After walking me through the Dewey Decimal System and general operation of the library, Claire, as she insisted I call her, left to run some errands. The library didn't see many patrons. Small town libraries don't get much traffic, add to that the popularity of e-readers, and they have even less of a place in the fabric of small town life. Claire explained as she was getting older she wanted to spend more time at home with her grandkids, which is why she'd been looking for someone part-time.

I was glad I could be there to help. It felt good to have a purpose. I'd never had the chance at a career; I'd jumped into my life back home feet first and hadn't looked back. In hindsight, I regretted not going to school—I think I would have gone for creative writing or teaching if I had—but there was no going back. I could only move forward, and the job at the library in this small New England town was enough for me at the moment.

It was early September, and I was tasked with hanging fall decorations per Claire's orders, when the bell on the door chimed. "Afternoon." I stepped out from an aisle and ran into a solid slab of chest. My hands went out, steadying myself against hard stomach. My breath caught as my eyes trailed up a lean throat and stubbled jaw to familiar blue eyes that flashed with amusement. His sculpted lips turned up into an amused smile.

I crossed my arms. "Seriously? This is becoming a little stalker-ish."

His hearty laugh barreled out of his chest as I stood waiting for him to say something, but he remained quiet, his eyes dancing.

"So let me guess, you just popped into the library for a book? So what's your pleasure? Crafts? Romance? Science fiction?"

"Hmm . . ." A soft groan escaped his throat that had my nerves tingling. "None of those are my pleasure, Sugar, although I think you are well-versed in my preferences." His hand lifted as if in slow motion. I sensed it coming, but my eyes were locked with his and I couldn't do anything to thwart his intentions. His thumb dragged across the seam of my lip. My eyes fluttered closed as he swiped across the flesh. My body lit up with lust and a dull throb settled between my thighs.

My heart stuttered a beat before I whipped my eyes open and pulled away. "Hands to yourself, Casanova." I backed away and beelined for the front desk. The guilt was already nagging at me for involving him in my life anymore than I should have. "Can I help you with something or did you just come in to torment me?" I slipped behind the counter, thankful for the space that now separated us.