Page 34 of A Summer Mismatch
“Me too,” she whispered. This close, she couldn’t even pretend to not be affected by him.
He glanced around as if taking in the sights, before his gaze fell on her in a direct way that it made it impossible to breathe. “I sure do like the view back here.”
She swallowed thickly. “Yeah, The Palms brochure said nothing about how nice it was behind the library curtains.”
“So rude to keep that to themselves.”
“Right?”
Had they moved closer to each other somehow? It seemed as though only a breath separated their mouths. She ached to trace her finger over his lips.
“How long do you think we’ll have to hide here?” he whispered.
“Forever, probably,” she said. One tiny exhale. That’s all it would take for their lips to touch.
“Sounds reasonable.” His gaze dropped to her mouth.
“It is exceptional back here.” And hot. So very, very hot.
“Beautiful.” His answer was merely a whisper as his lips brushed hers with the very lightest of touches. Heat flooded her entire body as he grazed her bottom lip with his thumb, searing her with his touch. She leaned into him, wanting his lips back on hers, wanting more than the barest hint of a kiss.
Everything else disappeared in that moment, except for Julia and Logan.
The curtain was flung back and there stood Leo. “Whatcha doin’ back here?”
The two sprung apart, and Julia suddenly realized how swelteringly hot it was behind that curtain. In the entire room. Had she thought it was cool earlier? Her entire body was ablaze with embarrassment. And desire? Her eyes slid toward Logan, his face as flushed as hers felt.
Both. Definitely both.
Logan stared at her as though that kiss was just an appetizer of things to come. Not even an appetizer. One of those single, tiny bites people got before the appetizer to whet their appetite.
Amuse-bouche.
Yeah, that.
“Leo,” Logan’s grandmother chided as she took the boy’s arm. “Carry on, you two,” she said with a not-so-innocent gleam in her eye. Julia’s face flamed even hotter.
But even if she wasn’t supposed to be working—versus almost making-out behind the library curtain—it was too late to carry on. Because Grandpa was making his way toward them, looking like he wished he had a whole plate of amuse-bouches to dump on Logan’s head.
From the corner of the room, someone’s wail tore through the room.
Everyone turned to look, even Grandpa, who stopped in his tracks.
Little Finley held a book over her head as tears poured from her eyes. “This book said there was no tooth fairy!”
Gasps flew through the room, and someone screamed out, “That’s a lie!”
Julia looked at Logan and then at her wailing students, and then to her Grandpa who was taking a direct route at a clipped pace in their direction.
“I’m sorry, I’ve got to take care of this,” she said, diving headfirst into her second-graders’ crisis, abandoning Logan to an incoming crisis of his own.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Logan
HoraceReesstompedtowardhim like a man on a mission—the kind of mission that would only leave one of them standing.
“Go, now,” Nonna said to him. “I’ll distract him.”
