Page 11 of First Love

I pulled my phone from my pocket and with a few taps, a fire flared up in the fireplace, making Amelia clap.

“Wonderful!” She put her hands out to the fire. “Wow, that gets instantly warm.”

“Gas fireplaces are so easy,” I said. “Though the one out in the living room is a wood-burning one.” I motioned to the doors that led to an outdoor reading area off the master bedroom. “With the woods all around, it made sense to use some of the local resources. You have to cut some trees every year to keep the forest healthy anyway.”

“My uncle used to say that. He owned a large piece of property in the Montana woods. Did some logging every year and kept us warm all winter.” As she talked, her eyes grew glossy. When she finished, she swiped one finger under her right eye. “Sorry. My uncle passed.”

“I’m sorry to hear that.” I took a single step closer, wanting so desperately to hug her grief away.

“Thanks.” She sniffed and gained control of her emotions with a full body shake. “I’ll pack that all away for later.”

“You don’t have to,” I said. “Feel free to let it all out if that will make you feel better.”

She took another hearty sip of her bourbon. “Tears and a total mental breakdown won’t bring any of them back so there’s no point. Besides, Uncle Noah would hate to see me get all blubbery, even if it was over him.”

Bring any of them back. The phrase caught my attention. Had Amelia lost more than her uncle? And how recently had she lost them? She was trying to play it cool, but a rawness clung to her that made me think the loss was fresh.

“I still don’t see any books.” She arced an arm out to indicate my room, a forced smile on her lips to attempt levity.

“That’s because they’re on the second floor.” I led her to the stairs, Sammy scrabbling ahead of us. “Take a left at the top of the stairs.” I motioned for Amelia to go up before me.

Which turned out to be a superb idea because then I got to walk up behind her and watch her phenomenal ass sway left and right with each step she took. I took another gulp of bourbon when we reached the top in an attempt to cool myself down.

FYI: It didn’t work.

Amelia followed my directions and took a left. Her gasp made me happy I’d put a library in this place. It had seemed overindulgent with its floor-to-ceiling bookcases on every wall, a window seat reading area, leather couches, and one of those rolling ladders to reach the way-high-up books. I absolutely loved the room though, and to watch someone else fall in love with it brought me an unexpected thrill.

“This is the room of my dreams.” Amelia’s voice was full of wonder. She set her bourbon down on an end table where I had a coaster out from when I’d last been in the library.

“It’s my favorite place in the house,” I admitted.

“Of course it is.” She bent low and ran her fingers along the spines of the books on one of the shelves. “Have you read all these books?”

“I’d say I’ve read eighty percent of the books in here.” I pointed to an almost full bookcase across the room. “That’s my to-be-read pile right there, and the empty bookcase next to it is for books I have yet to encounter.”

“Advance planning for expansion,” Amelia said. “Smart move.” She fingered a few more volumes on random shelves. “I would never leave this room if I lived here.”

Why did I want to put that statement to the test?

“I usually wrap up each day in here, reading something before going to bed.” I pointed to the coffee table between the two leather couches where two books were stacked. “Those are my current reads.”

Amelia wandered over to them, picking up the top book. “Summerland by D.H. Michaels,” she read aloud.

“It’s a fictional story about a medium whose abilities expand and he finds out some unexpected things about the afterlife. Makes you think and question what you believe.” I picked up the second book. “And this one is like the bazillionth book in a horror series I’ve been reading for years. I can’t get enough of these books. They’re about werewolves.”

Amelia lowered to the couch, setting the other book she’d been holding down on the coffee table. “You like werewolves?”

“Yeah.” I hugged the book to my chest. “And now you’ve come to the conclusion that I’m too big of a nerd to associate with, right?”

Why do I have to be such a dork?

“Uhh, no,” she said, the light in here doing something cool to her awesome eyes. I swear they . . . shimmered or something. Like liquid gold. “Actually, I love werewolves too and am surprised that you do.”

“A love of southern barbecue and good bourbon.” I gave Sammy a quick pat. “A love of dogs and werewolves.” I sat beside her on the couch. “Makes me wonder what else we might have in common?”

“Makes me want to find out.”

I wasn’t entirely sure who made the first move, but in the next second my lap was full of Amelia and our mouths were fused. This kiss threatened to set every book in my library on fire. The weird thing was I didn’t care if all the pages burned to a crisp. I just wanted Amelia to never stop kissing me. Her lips were tender but demanding. Her body was soft yet fit. The heat generating between us was hot enough sear my soul, to brand it.