Page 65 of When the Woods Go Silent

“I’ll think about it.” I step back, silently inviting him inside the empty store.

He accepts, closing the door behind himself and leaning against it, his green and gold eyes washing down my face to my neck, then lower.

I want to ask him so many questions - how does he know Torrence? What’s really wrong with the restaurant? And is he really nothing more than a playboy on the prowl?

But instead I head to the back kitchen office to find some water for the flowers.

I set the pitcher full of flowers on the checkout counter and find Kier in the local history room again, which Ruby and I worked hard to put back in order after the storm broke the window. He’s thumbing through a volume so old that the leather binding has flaked off in places, and my bookworm heart squeezes with how carefully he’s holding the book. There were several books that were too damaged by the storm to put back on the shelves, and I’m protective of the ones left.

“William always did have an eye for valuable books. You should start a rare book cabinet, away from light and dust,” he says, gesturing to the crumbling book.

I raise my eyebrows. “How do you know it’s rare?”

“First edition. Original cover. It’s not by a well-known author, but it’s important to Clearwater’s history.” He hands me the book, and I see it’s about the town’s founding.

“It’s a bit embarrassing to say, but I don’t really know much about old books. Ruby and I have a lot to learn.”

“You said you kept everything, right?”

I nod, and Kier smiles, setting the book on the windowsill.

“Then your heart is in the right place. William wasn’t meant to be a bookseller. He wanted to keep them all.”

“Were you friends with him?”

Kier shrugs. “Nothing outside of the shop, but he’s a good man.”

“Are you a good man?” The question spills from my lips without permission, and I try to cover it with a smile and a playful shove at his chest.

He catches my hand, pinning it against his mouth. “In all the best ways, I am not.”

His breath is hot against my palm, and my body goes a little liquid with the brush of his lips over my skin. Our eyes hold for a long beat, and I see so many delicious thoughts dancing there in that ring of golden fire. My fingers curve down, cupping hisjaw, and suddenly I’m being backed into a bookshelf, Kier’s body pressed solidly against mine.

“You are a gorgeous, tempting woman,” he murmurs in that sexy goddamn lilt, releasing my wrist and sliding his hand to the small of my back. I feel my body curve instinctively into his, like I no longer have any say at all.

But damn me to hell, I find Torrence’s words from earlier are swimming up through the lust in my mind. The accusation that Kier fucks anyone willing. That used to be exactly my type, but something broke in me with Arlo.

I’m not sure I want purely casual flings anymore.

“And you are my favorite new person in Clearwater. But I’m more in the mood for slow-burn today,” I say, ready to gauge his reaction as I slide sideways out of the heat of his gaze. I turn toward the shelf, idly scanning the titles I’ve spent hours cataloging, while every bit of my body keeps tabs on Kier’s closeness.

He leans one shoulder against the shelf and brushes a few of my curls back. I don’t look up, but I can feel his smirk. “Slow-burn? I’m not sure I believe you, Rose petal. Why on earth would you want to take things slow, and deny yourself the pleasure of blooming?”

“I have a habit of loving and leaving when I go fast,” I admit, my eyelids fluttering closed as he strokes his hand along the curve of my neck, moving his body again so he’s pressing against me from behind. My stomach and thighs touch the shelves, and I’m breathing in the layered scent of old books and fresh paint, at the same time as I feel his body crowding against me.

“And you’d rather stay close this time?” Kier murmurs, his hand sliding around my shoulder and down, fingertips barely grazing the curve of my breast as he reaches for my hand again. “What makes you think I’d let you run from me?”

“History,” I manage, shoving down the painful memories of the men I tried to keep around. The few who made me feel desperate and needy, before I hardened my heart and decided I would always be the one to leave first.

“I don’t know your history, and I certainly can’t tell the future. But I do specialize in the moment,” Kier says, bending his lips to the shell of my ear and grasping my other hand. He brings both arms above my head and pins my wrists there as he grinds lightly against my ass. I could tell him to stop. I could easily pull my hands free.

But instead I tilt my head back and arch deeply, pressing my ass backward into him as he ducks his mouth to meet mine. The softest of teasing kisses brushes my lips, and then he’s nuzzling my head to the side and kissing along my jaw.

His tongue teases a moan from deep in my throat as he sucks at my stud earring, the tiny sharp pull of it causing a thrill of pain and pleasure woven tightly together. He makes an appreciative growl against my temple, and I know I’m not going to hold out much longer.

Slow-burn isn’t really my style, anyway.

Then he lets go of my wrists and steps completely away, the chill of his absence like a slap that makes me whirl to face him, open-mouthed with something between shock and need.

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