Page 26 of Storytime and Sawdust

"It's true," I insist, pressing a kiss to his jaw. "You've rendered me completely wordless. It's unprecedented."

"Give it a minute," he teases, shifting us so we're lying side by side on the narrow sofa, my back to his chest. "I'm sure they'll come back to you."

I snuggle deeper into his embrace, feeling utterly content. "You're probably right."

His arms tighten around me, one large hand splayed protectively across my stomach. We lie in comfortable silence, our breathing synchronizing, our heartbeats slowing to a steady rhythm.

"I was afraid," I admit finally, tracing patterns on the arm that holds me. "After yesterday, when you pulled away. I thought maybe you'd decided I was too much after all."

Cal presses a kiss to my shoulder. "It wasn't you, Molly. It was me not believing I deserved someone like you."

"Someone like me?"

"Someone vibrant. Passionate. Unafraid to feel deeply." His voice rumbles against my back. "I've spent so long keeping to myself, working with wood because it's simpler than people. Safer."

I turn in his arms to face him. "And now?"

His eyes meet mine, more open than I've ever seen them. "Now I'm terrified. But in a good way." His thumb traces my lower lip. "In a way that makes me want to be brave enough to match your courage."

"I'm scared too," I confess. "Scared that this is too good to be true. That tomorrow you'll wake up and regret letting me in."

"Not possible." He kisses me softly. "I've been alone in my head for too long, Molly. You're like... like walking into sunlight after years in shadow. It's overwhelming sometimes, but I never want to go back to the dark."

Tears prick my eyes at the simple poetry of his words. "And here you said you weren't good with words."

"Only with you," he says. "Only when it matters."

We kiss again, unhurried now, savoring the connection. Cal's hands roam my body with appreciation rather than urgency, learning my curves, my responses, the places that make me sigh with pleasure.

"Stay tonight," he murmurs against my lips. "Let me make you breakfast in the morning."

"I should warn you," I say, smiling against his mouth, "I talk in my sleep sometimes. And I hog the covers. And I wake up early, usually singing."

"Sounds perfect." His hand slides down to cup my bottom, pulling me closer. "Though I might have ideas about how to tire you out enough that you sleep soundly."

Heat pools in my belly at the promise in his voice. "Is that so?"

"Mmm." His lips trail down my neck. "I'm just getting started, Molly Harper. There's so much more I want to show you. So many ways I want to make you feel good."

"Like what?" I challenge, arching into his touch.

His smile turns wicked. "Let me demonstrate."

And he does, repeatedly, until we're both exhausted and sated, tangled together on the leather sofa that's far too small for two people but somehow perfect anyway.

Later, as moonlight filters through the office window and Cal's steady breathing fills the quiet room, I think about the journey that brought us here. About a reading nook shaped like a tree, about fairy doors and constellation ceilings, about two people who feared being too much and not enough finding perfect balance in each other's arms.

I trace the lines of Cal's face as he sleeps, memorizing the peace I find there. Tomorrow will bring questions, logistics, real-world considerations. But tonight, in this moment, everything is exactly as it should be.

"I think I could love you, Cal Rhodes," I whisper, too softly to wake him. "I think maybe I already do."

His arms tighten around me in his sleep, as if even unconscious, he's determined to keep me close. I smile and close my eyes, letting sleepclaim me, secure in the knowledge that whatever we're building together—like the reading nook, like the fairy doors, like everything Cal creates with his gifted hands—it's being crafted with care, with attention to detail, and with a love that will endure.

EPILOGUE

MOLLY

Six months later, and I still catch my breath every time I enter the children's section. The reading nook—our reading nook—has become the heart of the library, alive with the energy of countless young readers who've claimed it as their own.

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