Page 2 of Cohen

DELILAH

Oh my God.

I don’t think I’ve ever been more embarrassed in my life. Well, except for that one time in sixth grade when Jimmy Tucker went around telling all the boys he’d seen my bra when he stuck his head into the girls’ locker room after gym class. That was definitely mortifying. And God, little boys could be so gross sometimes.

But this is horrible for a whole different set of reasons—namely that a tall, handsome man has literally swooped in and saved me from breaking my neck, proving to be a perfect gentleman while I look like a wobbly, jiggly, clumsy… idiot.

“I’m sorry,” I say again, still trying to collect my thoughts and stop staring at him while failing miserably on both counts. “Is there something I can help you with?”

Hopefully something that doesn’t involve balancing on a small stool?

“Actually, yes,” he pulls his hands out of his pockets and offers one to shake. “My name is Cohen Wells and I’ve just opened up a law firm down the street. I came in hoping to talk to Mrs. Molina, but,” he looks around, then settles his smoldering brown eyes on me again. “She doesn’t seem to be here at the moment.”

Is it getting hotter in here? Am I having a stroke? Will that be the next thing this guy—Cohen, apparently—has to save me from?

And now… what is he saying? Something about a law firm? Or Mrs. Molina? He must be the hotshot lawyer I’ve heard about. The one who came here from the city not too long ago.

I blink and shake my head slightly, just enough to hopefully get myself together andstop staring at himwhile I grasp at the thread of our conversation. A conversation I’ve barely contributed to in my dazed and overheated state.

Belatedly realizing he asked a question that I still haven’t answered, I feel my cheeks burn even hotter and stammer out a quick explanation. “Mrs. M-Molina retired a couple of years ago, I’m afraid. She still lives just a few blocks away, but I don’t know if she accepts many visitors these days. Maybe if she’s expecting you, though?”

“Ah, no, it isn’t anything specific to her. I just assumed she was still here, since I can’t remember a time when she wasn’t.” He offers an easy smile, no doubt because he’s a lawyer and has to be charming to earn a living. “Does that mean you’re the head librarian now?”

Why does it sound like such a fancy title when he says it? I keep trying to figure out if I think he’s hotter because he’s from the city or if that’s actually a turn-off. Still not sure.

All of my preconceived notions of what a big shot lawyer might be like in real life—arrogant, snappy, impatient, fussy—don’t seem to fit him at all. Instead, he seems laid back and friendly, polite to a fault, refined and professional without being stuck up and stuffy. In short, he’s hot. Super hot. That’s my verdict and I’m sticking to it.

And lord, he’s asked me another question, hasn’t he? While I’ve still been staring at him, ogling him from just a foot away.

“I, um… oh, right. The head librarian.” I shrug. “I’m the only librarian. There's a girl who comes in part-time on the weekends. So yeah? I guess?”

“Then you’re just the person I want to talk to.”

He really is a smooth talker. And such a deep voice. I could probably sit and listen to him speak for hours without even trying to interrupt. I let myself pretend for a split-second that he wants to talk to me about something other than library books and wonder how I would react if that was really the case.

No.

Nope.

Can’t go too far down that road. For starters, I’m almost certain he didn’t come to the library with the intention of flirting with me. Even if he had, it would be terribly unprofessional of me to let it continue. Still, I have to admit it’s tempting.Wouldbe tempting, if that’s what was happening.

Which it isn’t.

Because things like that don’t happen to me. A hot guy doesn’t drop everything to rush out and sweep his local librarian off her feet. The fact that he did exactly that a couple of minutes ago is probably just the hottest, sexiest coincidence of my life.

Okay, I seriously have to get out of this small, enclosed space in the middle of the aisle with him. Being so close is clearly having an effect on me, muddling my thoughts and making me fantasize about things that are never going to happen.

I need to help him find whatever it is he’s here for and send him on his way before I say or do anything else to embarrass myself even further than I already have.

“Is there something in particular I can help you find?”

“Hopefully. Does the library offer public access to any legal databases? Or even old archives from court proceedings? That’s the sort of stuff I’d be interested in checking out.”

I wince because I already know my answer isn’t going to satisfy him. He’s used to having all the resources in the world at his fingertips, and that just isn’t the reality for us here in Kismet Falls. Never has been and never will be.

“Everything we have is going to be in the reference section,” I point, then decide to show him myself. It’ll give me a chance to get out of this cramped aisle, at least. “We do have a few things in the archives that might interest you, but those books and ledgers are only available in physical form, so I’m afraid I can’t loan them out.”

He nods, his smile never slipping as he follows me across the library to the reference materials. “Totally understand. I have my own subscriptions to Westlaw and LexisNexis, so I’m really just looking for a few things to supplement what I can find online. I’m sure that whatever you have here will be perfect for my needs.”

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