Page 18 of When the Angel Falls First

“Barb, who are you talking to?” Josie’s voice sounded funny, and curiosity dragged me into the aisle so I could see her better. She was on top of a round stool, books overflowing beneath one arm, one under her chin, and her other hand adjusting the ones already on the top shelf in front of her.

She saw me and started, dropping the book under her chin. She flailed briefly, and I sped behind her, steadying her with my hands on her waist. I couldn’t reach the book, but I snapped it up with a tendril of power, not letting it hit the ground. It floated back up to where she could reach it, and her hand shook as she plucked it from seemingly thin air.

“I’m still not used to that,” she murmured, setting the book on the shelf. “I’m steady now, thank you.”

I reluctantly removed my hands, the soft warmth of her branded onto my skin. Skin that I’d tasted before, nibbled before, knowing well the soft gasp she’d make each time. I was instantly fighting a hard-on, and had to clear my throat before I could answer. “You’re welcome. Can I lend you a hand?”

“Here, Romeo. Juliet needs these on that shelf over there,” Barb said, shoving a stack of books into my hands. “I’m going to take my fifteen. If you two get up to anything naughty, I expect a full report.” She waved over her shoulder and didn’t waste any time disappearing into the back again.

I shook my head at the retreating store clerk. “She’s like a modern-day ninja. I haven’t heard her coming once, and people usually can’t sneak up on me.”

Josie hummed a noise of agreement. “She’s quirky, but she’s an amazing employee.”

“The quirkiest people are often the most interesting to be around,” I offered as I crossed to the shelf Barb had indicated and began carefully shelving the old books. I seemed to be in the psychology section and handled with great care a first-edition ofThe Interpretation of Dreamsby Sigmund Freud. We worked in companionable silence for a few moments before Josie spoke.

“I know you didn’t come here to be bossed around by my helper and shelve books. Is there something you want to talk about?”

“Yes, actually.” I placed the last book carefully onto the shelf and turned to watch her climb down from the step stool, feeling guilty for letting my gaze linger longer than I should have on her perfect ass. She dusted off her hands and propped them on her hips, not giving me an inch or an invitation to hang around.

I have a lot of making up to do. She agreed to help me, but she’s not comfortable yet.

I was oddly nervous when I proposed my idea. “I was hoping we could get together tonight, maybe over dinner, and talk about both of our projects.”

“Uhm, is that necessary?”

I straightened, taking a step closer, irrevocably drawn to her. “If I’m going to play your boyfriend, I want to be convincing. I need to know current news about your family, and I’d love to get your opinion on the couples I need to match. I can’t bring themallhere for a book match, so we’ll have to think of something else.”

“I hadn’t considered that,” she admitted, fidgeting with the hem of her fitted T-shirt. It was cute, a cat wearing glasses and reading a book of Voltaire’s poetry. I could feel the reluctance rolling off her, but it was deeply important to me for reasons I wouldn’t examine that shenotsay no.

“Come on, Josie. Nothing untoward; just two old friends catching up. You’ve got your mission, and I’ve got mine. We can be friends, right?” I waggled my eyebrows, hoping the silliness would loosen her up.

She snorted at my juvenile attempt at humor. “Yes, we can have dinner and discuss things.”

Score one for the angel.

“But just this once, okay? It would be easier for both of us if you knew what’s what with Nana Geraldine’s birthday ahead of time, but I don’t want you getting the wrong idea.”

And what exactly is the wrong idea, sweet Josephine?I longed to ask it, but I couldn’t, not now.

“Deal. I won’t take up too much of your time, I promise.” I reached up, lifting a loose strand of hair and tucking it behind her ear. Her skin was so soft, and she caught her breath at the brief contact.

“Okay.” She leaned toward me, wavering in her stiff posture. I longed to close the distance and touch her again, no matter how briefly.

Her mind was telling her to push me away, but her body was as drawn to mine as ever.

“And I’ll be the best centennial-birthday companion you’ve ever had.”

She rolled her eyes at me but took a half-step closer. Her tantalizing curves were nearly brushing my chest now.

One more step, sweetness. That’s all we need.

“You’re theonlycentennial-birthday companion I’ll ever have.”

“So, it won’t be hard to smoke the competition.” I grinned, loving the light banter but feeling like I was walking a razor’s edge between desire and flirtation. Too much, and she’d run. Not enough, and I’d lose this chance.

I didn’t deserve another chance.

Despite the attraction sizzling between us, sadness stole in, poisoning the moment with painful memories.

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