Page 61 of Under Daddy's Spell

“Interesting titles,” he observed, laying them on the counter one by one. Except for the last book, which he studied longer than the others before glancing up. “The cover art is intriguing, too.”

He pulled out his wallet and laid a $20 bill on the counter.

“I need something to read on the plane. This should more than cover it.”

The heat of embarrassment flooded her face. “They aren’t mine. I was putting them back.”

He didn’t reply, only grinned as he grabbed a plastic bag for his purchase. “See you tomorrow, sweet cheeks.”

“I’m serious. Customers leave books out all the time. I was getting ready to reshelve them when you walked in.”

“I saw your car out front.”

At the sudden shift in gears, it took a moment for her to follow. “I parked close because of the rain.”

He smiled his approval. “That’s my bright girl.” Then he sauntered to the door with his black-and-gold bag in hand. “Be careful going home. There might be limbs down.”

“No, really! They aren’t mine!” she repeated, although she could have saved her breath. Already out in the rain and wind getting drenched again as he jogged toward his place, he couldn’t possibly have heard her.

Tessa spread out the books.Alpha Daddy, Big Daddy, Daddy’s Obsession; they were all there except forLumberjack Daddy, the one with the bare-bottom corner scene.

Both titillated and mortified, she plopped onto her stool and dropped her head onto the counter.

Chapter Eighteen

EVERY TWO WEEKS, TESSArotated the books on the tables up front to the shelves to make way for new releases. The bestsellers earned more display time, but the others got sorted and alphabetized with the rest. She also shifted stock from the back to her sales and clearance tables. Basically, she shuffled and rearranged all the time.

Grabbing what she could hold in one arm from the cart, she climbed the ladder. It made the twentieth trip of the morning, at least. Why did the odd-sized, heaviest books always seem to go on the uppermost shelves?

At the top, with her head even with the second shelf, she realized she’d picked up the stack of sci-fi romances by Susan White instead of the dark gothic romance by Piper Adams. Sighing, she rested her forehead against the ladder. The storm last night had stalled over the city. The thunder that boomed into the wee hours hadn’t awakened her as much as her scaredy-cat German shepherd trying to hide his trembling ninety-five-pound body under her pillow.

Operating on only a few hours of broken sleep, Tessa knew she should put this task off to another day. But it was something to pass the time while she waited for closing and her late dinner with Jordan.

“Tessa.”

Though uttered softly, she twisted around at the sound of her name and promptly lost her balance.

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