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2
ARIANA
When I moved into my new apartment yesterday, I had only one thing on my mind: a new bookcase.
Why? Because I have my priorities straight.
After leaving my childhood home with endless boxes of books, I need somewhere to store them, and a custom bookcase sounds like the perfect way to christen my new place. That’s what brought me here to Stirling’s Lumber & Hardware. I want something special to celebrate moving out.
Having my own space is what I’ve craved for a long time. I love my family—my mom and dad, my brothers and sisters—but as an introvert, growing up in a seven-person household was pretty overwhelming. I’ve always been the odd one out: the bookish, plus-size girl in a family of competitive athletes. They never understood that I’d rather curl up with a novel than hike in the mountains or run a marathon. The adrenaline rush they get from sports, I get from twisty thrillers and heart-pounding mysteries…but try explaining that to my family.
Now, after a lifetime of feeling like an outsider, I finally have a place to call my own, and it’s hard not to grin as I walk into the hardware store with a spring in my step. It’s big and airy and smells comfortingly of sawdust. Tools of every shape and size line the aisles, along with stacks of wood in every variety, and I spy a woman wearing a company shirt organizing a display of hand saws.
“Excuse me?” I say. “Sorry to bother you. Who should I talk to about a custom order?”
The woman smiles at me, gesturing toward the back of the store. “You’ll need Mr. Stirling for that. Head through the double doors—you can’t miss him.”
I thank her and follow her directions into a large warehouse stacked with more wood than I’ve ever seen in my life. I can’t see anybody in here except a guy in a red flannel shirt. He’s on his knees, inspecting a pile of lumber, and I walk tentatively toward him.
“What is it?” the man asks gruffly without turning around.
His voice is deep and throaty, and I instinctively take a step back, my heart stuttering.
“Um, hi!” I say, swallowing hard. “Sorry to bother you, but I want to buy a bookcase.”
“The main part of the store is through the double doors to your left. One of my employees can help you out.”
I frown at the back of the man’s head. His dark hair is streaked with gray and his shoulders seem impossibly broad. For the first time, it occurs to me that he looks much taller than a man on his knees ought to, and I cock my head as I say, “The woman out front said I should come to the warehouse. I’m looking for a custom piece.”
The man lets out a sigh, and I watch as he starts to straighten up, pushing himself off his knees. Only he doesn’t stop. He seems to be rising and rising, like Alice in Wonderland after biting into the ‘Eat Me’ cake. When he finally reaches his full height, I’m craning my neck to look at him, and I have to stop my jaw from falling open.
Holy crap.
The man turns around and my stomach flips over, my pulse thumping in my ears. He’s a giant. Literally. The biggest man I’ve ever seen in my life, and that’s saying something since my brothers are both six-foot-four basketball players. But this guy would dwarf them both. He must be seven feet tall, but it’s not just his stature that’s making me breathe faster. Everything about him is huge. His chest is a wide block of muscle, and his biceps bulge beneath his shirt. Even his beard is big—bushy and dark, streaked with gray just like his hair. There’s a hardness in his deep blue eyes, and scars crisscross his handsome face.
Warmth is spreading deep inside me, burning between my legs as I stare up at the giant. He’s intimidating as heck, but also breathtakingly sexy. Raw power emanates from him, sucking the air out of the room and making it hard for me to breathe.
Keep it together, girl. You’re here for a bookcase, not to lose your mind over a stranger.
“Are you Mr. Stirling?” I ask, forcing the words out.
“Yes. Duke Stirling.”
His voice is a deep rumble, like thunder on a stormy night, and a shiver runs through me.
“So…you’re the guy to talk to for custom furniture?”
It feels crazy to be talking about furniture when this man has flipped my insides over, but I need something to focus on. Something other than those intense blue eyes.
Duke nods. “You said you want a bookcase?”
“Yes, a custom-made one. Would that be possible?”
“You got the measurements?”
I stare at him blankly, my cheeks warming. “No. Sorry, I’m an idiot, I didn’t even think?—”
“Don’t say that.”
