Page 57 of Between the Lines

I snicker. He lifts his brow at me in question.

“Youwouldhave a study.”

“Where else would I study?”

He says it so seriously that my head tilts back in laughter on its own as I follow him.

Here. Nathan Harding’s study. This is where they can bury my body.

Nathan doesn’t have astudy. He has a library.

Every wall is covered in built-ins that sit atop oak cabinets. His books are well worn and loved, and I have the sudden urge to run my fingers down every spine and know their stories.

As promised, a large fireplace dominates the center wall. With the flick of a switch, it ignites, and my breath catches along with it. There is a desk along the back wall, and is that a?—

“You have a window seat?!”

I run to it. The chill from the window doesn’t stop me from perching atop the cool leather and gazing out on the back lawn. It’s too dark to make out the view, but I just know that, if he keeps inviting me back, I could get used to this. With my legs tented, I tilt my head back against the wall, close my eyes, and inhale.

“I thought you’d like the armchair better, but I can turn up the heat, if you’d like.”

I tilt my gaze toward Nathan, and my breath catches again.

He looksnervous. It’s so sweet that my heart clenches, like a fist is wrapped around it, reminding me of what makes it beat. He tugs the collar of his River Valley staff polo, and I gaze over him.

“Oh, I’m definitely calling dibs on that chair. I just didn’t know I had options. Put a few pillows and a comfy blanket over here and I would move in.”

I havegotto stop saying these things out loud.

He swallows thickly, and I wonder if he’s about to show me the door. Instead, he says, “I’ll keep that in mind,” and leaves the room.

I don’t know what I expected, but I kind of hoped that Nathanwould be joining me. I tense at the fact that he’s now somewhere off in his home doing his own thing. I feel like an intruder as I slink over to the big brown leather chair and cozy myself in. There’s a blanket draped over the back, and I lay it across my legs before firing up my Kindle. I’ve been wanting to dive into this series, but even with the quiet crackling of the fire and the prospect of this whole room to myself, I find myself struggling to begin.

It’s not the story—any book that begins with a badass female wielding a bow and arrow is right up my alley. It’s the fact that, alone in this room, I wonder if I’m imposing on his space.

He invited you here, numnuts. Relax and enjoy your book.

I sigh at my subconscious—who is honestly right most of the time—and settle in for chapter one. By the time I’m beginning to grow annoyed with the heroine’s bratty sisters, a light rap on the door rouses me from the story.

It’s Nathan. Taking up the doorway with his imposing frame. He’s changed into sweats, and is holding two steaming mugs, with a book under his armpit—and did he also apply a fresh spritz of cologne?

I simultaneously melt and become flame all at once.

I didn’t think the man owned anything but business casual attire. I assumed he slept in ties. But here he is, wearing a pair of grey joggers and a black form-fitting T-shirt, and I want to snuggle the crap out of him.

“I wasn’t sure if you liked tea or not. I hope hot cocoa is acceptable.”

He sets a nondescript blue mug into my hands, then sets down his own on the desk before dragging a side table between the chair and the matching couch. Then, he sets his own mug down and settles into the corner of the couch closest to me before cracking open his book.

It’s a worn, battered copy ofThe Fellowship of the Ring. My heartis a flame.

“You’re going to read with me?”

“It’s better than reading by myself.”

Nathan Harding is a strait-laced man. Somewhere within, I know that he’s being genuine.Reading with me is better than reading alone. Somehow, I know that’s significant.

I trace his profile, from his slightly mussed, dirty blonde hair, over his studious frames and straightnose, pausing on his full lips. He turns to the middle of the book where an old receipt falls out. Before he gets the chance to start, he blinks up at me.

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