The Hotter You Burn

“Ms. Cavanaugh,” Beck said, reading the name tag pinned to the collar of her dress. “It’s so lovely to finally meet you.” He claimed her hand, kissed her knuckles. “Had I known a woman such as yourself guarded these precious tomes, I would have come much sooner.”

“Yes. Well.” She cleared her throat and returned her attention to Harlow. “You know you’re not supposed to—”

“I hope you don’t mind our intrusion, but Harlow hoped to take a moment of your valuable time and sincerely apologize for any and all trouble she once caused you,” he interjected smoothly. “As a woman who values knowledge, I know you’ll be interested in hearing what she has to say.”

Different emotions played over the older woman’s features, but in the end she nodded stiffly. “Very well. Speak.”

Harlow did just that. “I am so, so sorry for organizing a Students Against Stupid Books protest ten years ago. Someone caught me reading a romance novel, and I was embarrassed. The protest was my way of earning cool points, but I felt like I needed to shower on the inside the entire time, especially while the books were burning. Books are awesome. Go books!”

Students Against Stupid Books? Dude.

“Yes, well. Time will prove all truths,” Ms. Cavanaugh said, the starch staying with her.

“That it will.” Beck gave her knuckles another kiss. “Harlow, honey, why don’t you tell Ms. Cavanaugh about the books you’d like to read and treasure.”

“That won’t be necessary.” Ms. Cavanaugh placed her glasses on the bridge of her nose and stared up at him. “As Harlow is aware, she is forever banned from having a library card. I cannot change our policies. No card, no books.”

“I understand,” Beck said with an indulgent smile, “which is why we’ll put the books on my card. After I fill out the proper paperwork, of course.”

Several beats of silence passed before the librarian gave another stiff nod. “I hope you know what you’re doing, young man.”

As she walked away, Harlow peered up at him, wide-eyed with awe. “Beck,” she whispered, and threw her arms around him, hugging him.

He didn’t hug her back, not at first. The softness of her breasts pressed against his chest, and an instant blast of heat suffused him, his entire body practically going up in flames.

“Thank you. You’re the best. Thank you,” she repeated.

Slowly he wound his arms around her and held on tight, probably too tight, but she didn’t seem to mind. “Anytime, sweetheart.” The hoarseness of his tone embarrassed him. When he began to tremble like a puss, he knew he had to end the contact. He set her away with a swift, almost jarring movement and cleared his throat.

A bell tinkled over the door, saving him from having to come up with an excuse for his behavior, and a feminine voice suddenly called out, “Beck! You’re really here.” An attractive brunette strolled toward him, grinning. “I noticed your car out back and came in to say hi.”

How did he know her?

Well, one guess. “Hey, pretty.” He winked, reassured as he sank back into an old habit.

Harlow snorted. “While we’re here, you might want to check out a few books on the consequences of he-sluttery.”

“You mean extreme fun and temporary pleasure?”

Her mouth curled with distaste. “When it comes to matters of the heart, the only thing you should want to be temporary is an STD.”

Deep down, he’d known she would balk at anything fleeting. Now he had to bite the inside of his cheek to combat a blistering surge of something akin to disappointment.

The brunette reached him, scowling at Harlow before schooling her features and raking her nails down his tie. “A few weeks ago you asked me out. Do you remember?”

“Do you really think I could forget?” he replied smoothly, still drawing a blank.

She shook her head, relieved, and said, “At the time, I told you no, but I’ve regretted it ever since.”

The words jogged his memory. That’s right. She’d played hard to get, turning him down flat, and he’d moved on to someone else. No harm, no foul.

“You two deserve each other. I hope you’re happy...temporarily.” Harlow kept her attention squarely on Beck, glaring daggers at him. “Meanwhile, I’ll be outside. I’ll give you ten minutes to get your card and whatever books you want me to follow while tending your garden, and then I’m gone. I have places to be.”

He didn’t want her to leave, didn’t want her out of his sight, but he said, “If you want to leave, leave. I won’t stop you.” Not now, not ever.

As he spoke, the brunette linked her arm through his, a clear attempt to stake a claim. He almost shook off her hold, but the feeling was so new, so unexpected—so different—he locked his limbs in place.

Harlow looked from him to the girl, the girl to him, the severity he’d noticed in the later-childhood pictures soon masking her features. “Forget the books, and screw you,” she spat, turning toward the door. “Screw you both.”

He knew. In that moment, he knew beyond any doubt. She liked him, and not as a brother. Jealousy was the only reason she would lash out this sharply.

“Harlow,” he called.

“What?” she snapped.

“Stay close. I’ll be coming for you.”

CHAPTER FIVE (#ulink_78272013-3ba9-5214-8924-22d737530441)

HARLOW PACED BACK and forth in front of the library’s front door. Old wood planks creaked and whined, a warm breeze actually cool against her damp neck. Her mind churned.

How dumb was she? Suzie Quaid had walked into the library, and Harlow had nearly erupted into flames of jealousy. All because Beck had smiled and turned on the charm. But the great he-slut of the Southwest always smiled and turned on the charm. He’d even softened the hard-as-stone Ms. Cavanaugh.

Why should Harlow care that he’d stayed true to form and paid attention to the girl once voted Most Likely to Become a Professional Jell-O Wrestler?

Beck might be gorgeous, and nice, and gorgeous, and charismatic, and gorgeous, but he still wasn’t the man for Harlow. He would never be the man for her. Even temporarily. Especially temporarily. Learn the bliss of being his woman, only to lose him? No, thanks.

Her eyes remained on the prize: stability. Falling in love, creating a home and starting a family. Her desires would never align with his. Best to tend to his garden, as owed, and then move on.

Right on time, he sailed out of the library and smiled his most devastating smile. He handed her the books he’d checked out.

“Catch you later, honey.” He ambled away, whistling a happy tune. Sounded like “Baby Got Back.”

Seriously? That was it? He was just going to leave her here?

Had he made a lunch arrangement with Suzie? Or maybe dinner—followed by bedroom dancing?

Irritation flourished, and in an effort to distract herself, Harlow hugged the books to her chest. The three hardbacks had to weigh a thousand pounds each, and her arms began to shake. As she motored forward, she did her best to remain in the shadows. Mr. Porter and Mr. Rodriguez were no longer playing checkers. Jessie Kay Dillon and her sidekick, Sunny Day, occupied the chairs, drinking whiskey from a bottle and scoring men as they walked past.

Jessie Kay whistled. “Oh, baby. I’m giving you a ten. You look like you’re into commitment. Come give me a taste of that!”

“Oh, sugar, sugar,” Sunny called. “I bet you’ve got a healthy relationship with your mom. Marry me?”

While the guys soaked up the attention, Harlow did her best to escape unnoticed.

She failed.

“Look who just entered my territory.” Sunny fist-pumped the sky. “Catfight, anyone?”