Frustrated he might be, but he wasn’t above teasing her. Besides, she was right, she didn’t poof in the library, and that could prove very interesting.
He sauntered from behind the bookshelf and watched as her gaze settled on him, eyes widening in horror to make him smile even wider. He delighted in watching the color suffuse her face. It was radiant. She was priceless.
“Hey.” He leaned on the counter, his attention caught by the willowy blonde librarian whom Ginny had evidently just let in the door. The woman’s hand went straight to her chest to pat above her heart.
“It’s The Dane!”
He gave her his best smile while he dipped his hand into the bag of tepid fried chicken, pulled out a piece, and took a nibble, almost laughing as the blonde fluttered her eyelashes at him. “That’s me. And what’s your name?”
He wasn’t positive, but a strange growling sound seemed to come from Ginny. Perhaps she was still hungry, but she didn’t seem to be making a move toward the food.
“Pearl.”
“Well, hi, Pearl.” He offered the bag across the counter. “Ginny, you better eat something. Your stomach is making noises, honey.” The quickly arched eyebrow made him wonder if he might have taken it too far calling her “honey,” but her saccharine smile assured him all was well as she dunked her hand into the bag and pulled out a couple of fries.
Matt turned the bag in Pearl’s direction and wondered if he should withdraw it before she drooled over his food. Nothing worse. She shook her head as if she was trying to clear it. Her voice when it came was a breathless rush. “I’ve just eaten, thank you.” She sighed and fluttered her long fingers at the bag as though she couldn’t decide whether or not to accept his invitation anyway.
He gave her a smile; her soft whimper reached his ears.
He returned his attention to Ginny. “I thought we were going to have lunch.”
She looked as though she couldn’t swallow the food she’d just put in her mouth, and the pink flush turned puce. He ran the tip of his tongue over his top lip and watched her attention divert to his mouth. He didn’t want to eat food, he wanted to eat her. Now. He flicked a glance at the tall, slender blonde and noted the intense attention she was paying them. No chance of him having a quick moment alone with Ginny.
He lowered his voice. “What time do you finish work?”
Ginny spluttered, her nostrils flared, and tiny bits of fry flew from her lips to land back in the bag he held extended. The desire to laugh stuck in his throat when she turned wide, manic eyes on him. Icy-white swirled through them while Pearl stared transfixed at the bag as though the chewed-up little pieces were going to come crawling out.
Ginny ignored her. Her voice, when it came, was layered with multihued tones. “Six.”
“Six, huh? I’ll pick you up. We’ll have dinner.”
“No.” Her voice hit a soprano note of panic and echoed in his head.
Careful, he rolled down the top of the paper bag, placed it on the counter, and leaned in. Pearl gasped as her knees gave way, and she collapsed into the operator’s chair to send it careering backward. Ginny flung her hand out, grabbed the back of the chair, and brought it to a dead stop without ever taking her cold gaze from him.
Impressed, Matt raised his eyes to meet her wintry white ones. Hell, sometimes she could be scary. He wanted to stick his finger in his ear and waggle it just to make sure the tinnitus inside his head was caused by the last crazy smash-up he’d had on the field. But no, she seemed to be emitting a penetrating squeal even Pearl was reacting to.
The woman narrowed her eyes and turned her puzzled face one way, then the other. “Do I hear the fire exit alarm?” Much to his amusement, she leaped up, squeezed her trim figure between the counter and the book truck, and tip-tapped toward the back of the library on her pin-thin stilettos. Evidently to check the fire-exit door.
Matt
He sauntered from behind the bookshelf and watched as her gaze settled on him, eyes widening in horror to make him smile even wider. He delighted in watching the color suffuse her face. It was radiant. She was priceless.
“Hey.” He leaned on the counter, his attention caught by the willowy blonde librarian whom Ginny had evidently just let in the door. The woman’s hand went straight to her chest to pat above her heart.
“It’s The Dane!”
He gave her his best smile while he dipped his hand into the bag of tepid fried chicken, pulled out a piece, and took a nibble, almost laughing as the blonde fluttered her eyelashes at him. “That’s me. And what’s your name?”
He wasn’t positive, but a strange growling sound seemed to come from Ginny. Perhaps she was still hungry, but she didn’t seem to be making a move toward the food.
“Pearl.”
“Well, hi, Pearl.” He offered the bag across the counter. “Ginny, you better eat something. Your stomach is making noises, honey.” The quickly arched eyebrow made him wonder if he might have taken it too far calling her “honey,” but her saccharine smile assured him all was well as she dunked her hand into the bag and pulled out a couple of fries.
Matt turned the bag in Pearl’s direction and wondered if he should withdraw it before she drooled over his food. Nothing worse. She shook her head as if she was trying to clear it. Her voice when it came was a breathless rush. “I’ve just eaten, thank you.” She sighed and fluttered her long fingers at the bag as though she couldn’t decide whether or not to accept his invitation anyway.
He gave her a smile; her soft whimper reached his ears.
He returned his attention to Ginny. “I thought we were going to have lunch.”
She looked as though she couldn’t swallow the food she’d just put in her mouth, and the pink flush turned puce. He ran the tip of his tongue over his top lip and watched her attention divert to his mouth. He didn’t want to eat food, he wanted to eat her. Now. He flicked a glance at the tall, slender blonde and noted the intense attention she was paying them. No chance of him having a quick moment alone with Ginny.
He lowered his voice. “What time do you finish work?”
Ginny spluttered, her nostrils flared, and tiny bits of fry flew from her lips to land back in the bag he held extended. The desire to laugh stuck in his throat when she turned wide, manic eyes on him. Icy-white swirled through them while Pearl stared transfixed at the bag as though the chewed-up little pieces were going to come crawling out.
Ginny ignored her. Her voice, when it came, was layered with multihued tones. “Six.”
“Six, huh? I’ll pick you up. We’ll have dinner.”
“No.” Her voice hit a soprano note of panic and echoed in his head.
Careful, he rolled down the top of the paper bag, placed it on the counter, and leaned in. Pearl gasped as her knees gave way, and she collapsed into the operator’s chair to send it careering backward. Ginny flung her hand out, grabbed the back of the chair, and brought it to a dead stop without ever taking her cold gaze from him.
Impressed, Matt raised his eyes to meet her wintry white ones. Hell, sometimes she could be scary. He wanted to stick his finger in his ear and waggle it just to make sure the tinnitus inside his head was caused by the last crazy smash-up he’d had on the field. But no, she seemed to be emitting a penetrating squeal even Pearl was reacting to.
The woman narrowed her eyes and turned her puzzled face one way, then the other. “Do I hear the fire exit alarm?” Much to his amusement, she leaped up, squeezed her trim figure between the counter and the book truck, and tip-tapped toward the back of the library on her pin-thin stilettos. Evidently to check the fire-exit door.
Matt
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