by Nina Lane
“Just hearing you talk like that gets me hot.”
“Bring me an armload of books, Stone.” She turned back to the computer. “If I’m going to be the brains, you get to be the brawn.”
“As long as I can dance, I’ll be anything you want me to be.”
Kate shot him a repressive look. He responded with a wink before shoving away from the desk and heading to the stacks. He returned with a pile of books, then turned the volume up on the media player and strutted his way back to the photographs.
Kate thought for sure the music and Tyler would be a distraction, but she found herself getting the system set up with rapid efficiency. As soon as she finished inputting the books into the database, he appeared to whisk them away and bring her a new stack. He never seemed to stop moving, whether he was dancing, playing air guitar, roaming the mezzanine, or shelving books.
They worked in compatible silence—disco music in the background—for a while before Tyler called, “Hey, Darling, you got any chocolate in your briefcase?”
Kate reached for the bag of Whipped Creams tucked beside her paperclips. She pushed away from the desk and went up the stairs to the mezzanine.
“Don’t get chocolate on the books.” She handed him the bag. “Don’t you get tired of all the Sugar Rush candy?”
He shrugged, popping a Whipped Cream into his mouth. “Not really. I don’t work here, so I don’t get any freebies and I don’t keep a stash of Sugar Rush candy at home. I like the Fruit Puffles, though. You got any of those?”
Kate shook her head. “I prefer the more traditional stuff. When I was a kid, there was this candy store called Grenville’s in downtown Wabash. They had all sorts of retro candy, like candy drops, gumballs, jawbreakers. They made everything by hand, and they’d always tell you the history of whatever candy you just bought.
“They didn’t have much chocolate, but they always carried Stone Confectioners’ Gold Rush bars. And every Friday night on his way home from the quarry, my father would stop at Grenville’s and get two Gold Rush bars for me, one with nuts and one without. I savored them all weekend.”
She stopped, embarrassed that she was being a Chatty Katie again. Tyler was merely looking at her with that sharp brown gaze of his, as if waiting for her to explain why she was telling him all that. At least he didn’t look bored, only slightly baffled.
“I like history,” she explained lamely. “And chocolate. Even though I usually make decisions methodically, I think I applied for the Sugar Rush job because of my emotional connection to Grenville’s. In fact, I was really disappointed to discover that Sugar Rush no longer makes Gold Rush bars…um, I’ll just get back to the computer.”
She returned to the desk, her cheeks warm. Tyler couldn’t have made his disdain for the library—and by proxy, Sugar Rush history—more clear. He certainly wouldn’t want to hear about her “emotional connection” to Gold Rush bars.
“Hey, speaking of old Sugar Rush candy.” He approached with a tattered, leather-bound book. “I found this earlier today when I was sorting out the ledgers. Looks like a bunch of recipes.”
“Really?” Kate turned. “Do they have dates?”
“Some of them. I was reading in one of the books that Edward Stone’s wife created a lot of the formulas for chocolate and candy when he opened another store in San Francisco. Some of the recipes include some weird stuff.” He flipped to another page and read, “‘Common chocolate is frequently mixed with ground peas and maize or potato flour, to which an amount of brown sugar or treacle is added, with mutton suet causing it to adhere together.’”
“Er…yum?” Kate threw him a grin. “Although that kind of thing would be interesting to add to the historical section on the Sugar Rush website.”
Tyler put the open book on the desk. They studied the scrawled, loopy writing, which included recipes for chocolate cream, chocolate drops, chocolate milk, and chocolate powder.
“It would be fun to try some of these,” Kate said.
“If you could get the ratios right.” He gestured to a recipe for Chocolate Drops. “Most of them don’t even say if you should use a cup or a teaspoon of something.”
“Still, it’s all a part of Sugar Rush history.” She flipped to the front of the book. “Come on, I’ll show you how to input this into the system and create a bibliographic record.”
She half expected Tyler to make some flippant comment and dance away again, but instead he pulled up a chair and sat beside her. After creating a record for the book, he retrieved a few more to log in to the system. They’d gotten through a dozen books before Kate realized she’d been at the library for much longer than her planned hour.
“I need to get back to my desk.” She retrieved her phone from the holster and checked her messages. “You can keep working on these, and just text me if you have any questions.”
“I have a question.” Tyler brushed his hand against her thigh. “When do I get to make you come again?”
Oh my God.
Though she was tempted to say, “Right now, please,” Kate focused on packing up her briefcase. Warmth bloomed in her chest, her nerves already sparking with anticipation of another sexy night with him.
He moved behind her, his fingers tickling the back of her neck.
“You smell so good.” He nuzzled his nose into the curve of her shoulder, one hand sliding up into her hair. “Like birthday cake and butterscotch. And fresh coconuts from a tropical island.”
Kate smiled, her blood warming from his touch. “Your father and Luke are going to ask you about this system. How are the resources organized?”
“Alphabetical order. Dewey Decimal system. Let’s fuck.”
Heat crashed into her blood at his raw command. Kate swallowed hard and pushed her elbow backward to nudge him away from her. Much as the idea excited her, they were at work.
“You said you wanted lessons.” He slid his hand down to fondle her breast beneath her suit jacket. “Lesson number five or whatever. Be spontaneous.”
“Spontaneous shouldn’t also mean unprofessional.”
“Fuck professionalism.” He squeezed her breast. “Let’s be dirty librarians and get between the covers.”
Kate stifled a laugh, even as her arousal mounted. Before she could work up the resolve to pull away, Tyler was tugging her out of the chair and turning her to face him. Her blood went into full boil at the sight of the mischievous glint in his eyes.
The urge to touch him bloomed inside her with sudden force, like a lid exploding off a pressure cooker. With a moan of surrender, she leaned forward and met him halfway in a hot, open-mouthed kiss.
Tyler muttered something in his throat and locked his granite-like arms around her, compressing their bodies together. He pushed her back up against the wall and put his hands on either side of her head. Dizziness swept through her. She curled her hands into the front of his T-shirt, her nerves already on fire and her core throbbing.
He deepened the kiss, sweeping his tongue across the surface of her teeth. He glided one hand into her jacket to cup her breast, flicking his thumb over her hardened nipple.
Pleasure washed through her. She squeezed her thighs together to ease the burgeoning ache. He moved his hand to the side, tracing the strap of her cell phone holster. His chuckle brushed against her lips.
“Never thought a cell phone holster could be sexy, but on you, it is.”
He moved his hand to her thigh and fisted his grip into the fabric of her skirt. Kate’s heart crashed against her chest when he slowly pulled the hem up over her legs. His fingers grazed her nylon-clad thigh.
She trembled. Even through the thick stocking, she could feel the callouses on his fingers, the warmth of his big palm. He moved his hand up higher, higher…all the way up to the crease of her hip and over her belly…
He lifted his head his breath hot against her lips as he rested his forehead against hers. His fingers dug into the waistband of her nylons, but didn’t make much progress on their downward ques
t.
“It’s like Fort Knox,” he muttered. “You know, it would be a lot easier to get my hand in here if you were wearing a thong.”
“I tried a thong once and felt like I had permanent wedgie.” She bit her lip on a moan when he moved his hand up to fondle her breast again. “I don’t find sexy underwear very comfortable.”
“You haven’t found the right sexy underwear then. You could just get naked and wear nothing but your cell phone holster. That would be something to see.” He trailed his lips from her mouth to her ear, then sucked her earlobe.
Kate gasped, a bolt of heat shooting right to her core. He could probably make her come without even touching her clit.
He settled his lips over hers again, his fingers gently pinching her nipple. She was lightheaded with sensation, the heat of his body and his breath, the possessive caress of his—
Tyler pulled away from her so fast that Kate almost lost her balance.
What the—?
She grabbed his arm to steady herself the instant before he pushed her back into the shadows of the alcove. A second later, a male voice rang into the library.
“Working hard, Tyler?”
Kate’s heart plummeted to her toes. That deep voice, like a wave rolling across a polished hardwood floor, was unmistakable. Warren Stone, family patriarch and president of Sugar Rush, had come to check on his son.
Chapter
FIFTEEN
Shit.
In the time that he’d heard the footsteps coming down the tiled corridor and managed to save Kate from acute embarrassment, Tyler hadn’t had time to steel himself for his father’s arrival.
He sank into the desk chair, partly to hide the evidence of his raging hard-on and partly because his knees were so weak from kissing and touching Kate that he couldn’t stand upright much longer.
“Hey, Dad.” At least his voice was somewhat steady. “Working hard, yes indeed.”
Warren stopped in front of the desk. Even now, Tyler felt the effect of his father’s intimidating presence. Tall and broad-shouldered with a thatch of metal-gray hair and strong features, Warren Stone looked as if he should be issuing decrees on Game of Thrones.
Only his perfectly tailored Armani suit, the breast pocket bearing a crisply folded silk handkerchief decorated with a pattern of jellybeans, belied the fact that Warren was the modern day king of a candy company.
Tyler stood to put himself on a somewhat level playing field. At least his erection had withered. “What are you doing here?”
“Came to see how things are going,” Warren replied.
Of course. Frustration prickled Tyler’s spine. His father would never believe he’d just get the job done without periodic check-ins. Even more than hating his father’s mistrust, Tyler hated the fact that there was a good reason for it. He’d never done anything to earn his father’s trust or respect. Not like all his other brothers had.
Warren crossed the room, his dark gaze scanning the piles of books that showed scant evidence of having been organized. “What’s your plan for getting started?”
“Uh, I’m trying to get the bookshelves alphabetized,” Tyler said. “And figuring out what all is even in here. Seems to me someone should have supervised old Fred years ago.”
“Yes, that was clearly an oversight. But there was no denying Fred’s devotion to Sugar Rush.” Warren picked up a book and flipped through the pages. “Have you discovered anything interesting yet?”
Christ. Now he was supposed to give a report?
“About what?” he asked irritably.
Warren set the book down. “Work.”
“I discovered that it sucks.”
His father frowned. “Better than wasting your time hanging around an old garage, isn’t it? As least you’re getting paid here.”
“Mr. Stone!” Kate’s voice suddenly sailed through the room like a fresh breeze. She came out of the alcove, looking sharp and crisply put-together as always, with no indication that Tyler had just had his hand down her shirt and his tongue in her mouth.
She crossed the room, straightening her glasses with one hand and extending the other to Warren. “Pleasure to see you, sir. I was just looking for archival photographs for the revamp of the website.”
“Excellent.” Appearing faintly bemused by her presence, Warren shook her hand. “Nice to see you as well, Kate.”
“I was also explaining the new fully integrated library system to Tyler. Luke approved it the other day, and all the new equipment was delivered this morning. If you’ll step over here, please?”
She strode to the desk, indicating that Tyler should get out of her way before she tapped a few keys on the computer and brought up the database screen.
“As you can see, sir, Tyler can use the system for traditional services like cataloguing, lending, and acquisitions as well as stronger knowledge management capabilities. The program has a manual input screen and a streamlined function that allows you to update MARC records automatically.” She turned, gesturing Tyler to the stacks. “Tyler will get some books, and we can show you how the system works with both digital and print assets, each of which can also be supplemented with searchable file attachments.”
Warren gave a slight cough. “As interesting as that sounds…” He pushed back his cuff to look his gold wristwatch. “…I need to get back to my office. I appreciate you helping Tyler get started, Miss Darling.”
“My pleasure, sir.” She beamed at him. “It would have been near impossible for him to get anything useful done without the proper equipment. I’m glad that Luke had the foresight to recognize that overhauling the Sugar Rush library requires a certain degree of expertise and knowledge. Tyler seems to be doing very well, considering he doesn’t have a background in library sciences.”
Faint irritation scraped Tyler’s insides. Kate was trying to help, but this was starting to sound like a parent-teacher conference. He’d never liked those.
His father glanced at him, one eyebrow lifting. “As Tyler knows, no one expects him to do the scientific work. Just to organize things enough so that when we hire a new librarian, he or she will have an easier time getting started.”
He gave them both a swift nod and headed to the door. After he’d gone, Tyler picked up a book and leafed through it. His chest was tight with a feeling of uselessness—not that that was unusual after an encounter with his father.
As Tyler knows, no one expects him to do…anything.
“Hey.” Kate rested her hand on his arm. “You okay?”
He put the book back on the cart. “Yeah. Fine.”
“You look upset.”
“I’m not.” He pulled his arm away from her, unable to explain the other stuff simmering inside him.
It was like the other day with Luke, when he and Kate had been speaking a language Tyler didn’t understand. And now he didn’t like the evidence that she could also converse with Warren Stone much more easily than he had ever been able to. Nor the fact that she’d had to “rescue” him because he couldn’t just talk to his father like a normal person.
“Evan told me that your father is into making model cars and planes,” Kate remarked. “Sounds like you have a similar interest with your Trans Am and all.”
“Not really.” He doubted Evan had told Kate that their father started making models after their mother died in a car accident. Their sister Hailey had been badly injured in the accident. Warren had spent so much time in the hospital at her bedside that one day Spencer had brought him a model airplane kit to give him something else to focus on.
In the twelve years since Rebecca Stone’s death, Warren had built countless models in his office workshop. And while they’d all been grateful that Warren had an outlet for his grief, as far as Tyler could tell, the hobby had ended up only further isolating his father.
Maybe old cars had isolated him, too. Yeah, he had his buddies and a string of girlfriends, but he’d never felt…compatible with anyone. Not until Kate. Who was after another guy.
>
He rolled his shoulders back, forcing the tension from his neck. Stupid of him to be pissy about her well-intentioned help. At least with her here, he hadn’t had to deal with his father alone.
“Hey, thanks for the save,” he said. “You’re good at this stuff.”
“Well, I’ve seen your father in action in the boardroom.” Kate tugged her suit jacket over her hips and turned to the desk. “I know he can be quite formidable, even more so than Luke at times.”
She straightened some papers in her briefcase before snapping it closed and whipped her cell phone from the holster to check the screen. Tyler liked her efficient movements. She reminded him of an industrious little bird, like a sparrow building a nest.
“All right, then.” Kate slipped her phone back into the holster and picked up her briefcase. “I need to get back to my desk. You can continue to put books into the system, but use the basic entry screen. Call or text me if you have any questions.”
“I sure will.”
“I’ll stop by again before I leave for the day.” She strode to the door.
“Kate.”
She turned to look at him.
“Tonight,” he said. “Six o’clock. Be ready.”
A pink flush of pleasure colored her skin, her brown eyes lighting with an anticipation she couldn’t conceal. Then she gave him a swift nod and hurried away.
Tyler grinned and turned the media player back on. “Stayin’ Alive” burst through the room. He sat back down at the computer and continued retrieving MARC records and inputting resources into the system.
When he got tired of sitting, he took a dance break, then started to separate the materials by type—photographs, maps, documents, ephemera (a word Kate had told him meant “things that originally weren’t supposed to last long, like newspapers, tickets, and posters”), and books.
As much as he’d hated being banished here, the more he worked, the faster time passed. Now that he knew what he was doing, it was a hell of a lot better than sitting around feeling useless. He’d celebrate the day he was released, but now he actually believed he could get the job done to his father’s satisfaction.
