Copyright © 2017 by Harloe Rae
Lark shoots me a glare before asking, “What are you doing here?”
The venom in her voice is probably meant to scare me away but all I hear is come closer. I’m totally mesmerized.
“Hey, Sweetheart. I said you’d be seeing me soon. Figured I’d stop by and say hello in person.” I make sure to keep my tone calm but my skin inches with heat at the fire burning from her gaze.
“And I told you to leave me alone unless you’re ready to give me what I want.” She shifts her stare down to my groin while raising an expectant brow. “Is that what you’ve brought me?” She lifts her scorching eyes back to my face and seductively bites into her bottom lip.
Her sass is tantalizing but it’s the beauty underneath I’m truly after. “Sorry to disappoint you but that’s not why I’m here, Vix. I want to discuss some stuff, relating to us.”
“Vix? As in the vapor rub?”
An amused chuckle bounces up my throat. “Nah, short for Vixen.”
She seems to mull it over with a slight tilt of her head. “I suppose that’s fitting, though you don’t need to be handing out nicknames. Tell me, what could we possibly have to talk about?”
“No idle chit-chat first? I’m hoping we can get to know each other. I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you since the other night and this sexy librarian look you’re rocking is hot as hell, but it’s more than that. Are you willing to hear me out? Maybe make an exception for me?”
A frustrated sigh answers my question. “I don’t have the patience for this, Rowen. I’m very busy here and you’re wasting my time.”
I lean against the door, trying to show I’m not ready to leave quite yet. “Answer me this. Where did you work when you were younger? Let’s say seven years ago?”
Lark glances away before shuffling some papers into piles. Her fidgeting makes me smile because now I’m certain she remembers just fine. A barely-there blush blooms on her cheeks while she continues avoiding my question. I wait her out and soon enough she graces me with a response.
“I don’t see how that’s any of your business.” Her deflection causes me to edge forward a bit, as though we need to be closer. She speaks to the depths of my soul, no matter if she gives me sass or softness.
“I’m trying here, Vix. Want to help me out? Did you work at Brack’s Box during the summer of 2010? Maybe a guy stopped in on a random July afternoon and stumbled over his words in your stunning presence. Do you remember that?”
Lark is still avoiding eye contact but I hear her whispered yes as if she shouted it across the room.