Page 32 of That Rush

Aiden’s eyes remain on me. The words sound more pointed with him listening, so I add the book to the return cart before he can decide they mean anything.

“I want one with a baby dragon now,” Josie says. “A real one.”

“A real baby dragon?”

“Dragons can be real in books.”

“Excellent clarification.”

I lead her into the children’s section. Aiden follows without crowding us, and I’m aware of every quiet step behind me. Professional distance was easier before I spent last night putting his hands and voice into scenes that already had a perfectly adequate fictional man.

At the shelves, I pull out three options and crouch beside Josie. “This girl finds a dragon egg in the woods. This boy discovers a baby dragon living in his barn. This one has a dragon who thinks he’s a dog.”

Josie studies each cover before reaching for the baby dragon in the barn. “This one. He has to hide it from his dad.”

“I’m sure that goes well,” Aiden says.

“It will if the dad is nice.”

I glance up. “She makes a persuasive argument.”

“Please don’t encourage her to conceal livestock from me.”

“I’m a librarian. Encouraging questionable choices through books is part of the job.”

His mouth lifts into an unhurried smile. It makes him look less controlled, which only reminds me how much I want to see that control disappear.

Josie spots another display and hurries toward it. “Can I look at the sparkly ones?”

“You can look,” Aiden says.

She is already gone.

I rise, smoothing my skirt as Aiden steps back to give me room. His eyes follow the movement of my hands before lifting to my face.

“You’re good with her,” he says.

“She’s easy to like.”

His attention stays on me. “The feeling is mutual.”

His tone carries no expectation and makes no attempt to turn Josie’s affection into leverage after I rejected his invitation. That should make holding the line I set easier.

Instead, it makes him more attractive.

I return to the desk while Josie debates the merits of glitter with herself. Aiden carries the dragon book and sets it beside my paperwork. His eyes drop to the edge of my paperback peeking out beneath the summer-program file.

“Is that what won Friday night?”

I slide the file over it. “My plans won Friday night.”

“The book was part of the plan.”

“So were wine and a hammock. It was a strong team.”

He leans one forearm on the counter. “Was it worth turning me down?”

“I wasn’t aware you required a review.”