Page 99 of If Tomorrow Never Comes

“Hank.”

He laughed. “He’d like to think so.”

She cocked a brow. “Am I wrong?”

“No.” He flipped a few more pages. “What did you think was stupid until you tried it?”

“Wordle.”

He laughed. “Blythe was so into that for a while. Mine’s La Croix.”

“The drink?” Now that she thought about it, he did have several flavors in his fridge at all times.

“Yeah. For so long I was like, ‘It’s fancy water; what’s the big deal?’” He pursed his lips in disappointment. “Then I tried it. The Passionfruit is fucking delicious.”

“You’re adorable, you know that?”

He seemed to fight a smile, trying to keep up whatever annoyance he wanted to have about his addiction to carbonated beverages. “Okay, last one’s the best one. If you could pick the perfect location for a first kiss, where would it be?”

“Outside, against the brick wall of a hotel in downtown Omaha.”

His lips tipped up in a soft smile, his gaze warming, the silliness from a few seconds ago gone. “Best first kiss of my life.”

“Same.” Still, butterflies filled her belly when she thought about it. “But if you’d asked me that question before that night, I’d have said the library.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. You know, like those scenes in the movies where a couple finds some stack in the back and makes out against the shelves? I always wanted to disappear with a guy like that in a place where everyone’s supposed to behave and follow the rules. I guess the thought of a mean librarian catching us made it seem super exciting.”

One brow notched up, and he slid his fingers across his jaw. “Wanna hit the library after this?”

She gave him a saucy smile. “I don’t know ... Doesn’t seem all that different from a bookstore.”

He dropped the book in the basket and slowly approached her, checking the aisle to make sure they were alone. Her eyes remained locked on his, playful and welcoming. She wasn’t much for PDA, but this back corner of the store was empty, and she’d never not want to kiss this man.

He stopped with his feet bracketing hers, their chests brushing as her back pressed against the wood. An audible sigh left his throat when he dipped his head to whisper in her ear, “I think I love you more than books.”

“Youthink?”

“I do. I definitely do.”

“That’s a lot of love.”

“Mm-hmm.” He gently nudged her nose with his. “What would you pick? Books or me?”

Her arms roamed up his back. “What kind of books?”

“Wow.” His voice held a trace of humor. “Um, mystery?”

“You.”

“Sci-fi.”

“You, for sure.”

“Self-help.”

“Definitely you.”

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