Page 14 of Bruised MC Bear

Angel was countingdown the minutes. The library sale had been a busy event. Patrons had been in and out since they opened, which was perfect for the library, but her feet were killing her from all the walking. Thankfully, in less than an hour she could go home and relax. She organized the last few remaining batches of books on the two plastic folding tables devoted to fiction, resisting the urge to stretch her arms up or crack her neck. Instead, she straightened her vintage Zac Posen leather skirt and returned to the cash register.

A pair of large, rough hands placed a thick encyclopedia and a tray with two cups of Desert Java coffee on the counter in front of her.

“This looks interesting. I think I’ll get it.”

Angel looked up from the items to a grinning Axe. He pushed the motorcycle encyclopedia closer to her. Immediately a stress headache knocked around between her ears, and she groaned.

“You again.”

“Good evening to you too.” Axe tapped against the checkout counter and crossed his arms. God, he had delicious forearms.

She picked up the encyclopedia to ring it in, trying to tamp down the urge to smile as she caught herself admiring the finely cut planes of his cheekbones. No, he was not getting any smiles or friendly comments, not after what he’d done. “Don’t you have anything better to do today?” she huffed out. “The book is seven dollars, by the way.”

He reached into his pocket, smiling as he retrieved his wallet. “You’re welcome, by the way. One of these coffees is for you, just the way we like it.”

Angel cleared her throat. She wrapped her hands around the cup to mask their shaking, and held it close. “That was a thoughtful gesture. It’s kind of creepy and a little bit presumptuous, though. Don’t you think?”

“That’s why I’m buying the outdated piece of crap encyclopedia,” he informed her, giving her a wink.

“Well, thanks for your patronage.”

“Anytime. So, how was your evening after I left?” he asked, handing over a ten dollar bill.

What a way to rub it in. She snatched the money and got him his change. “What the hell do you care?” she said under her breath so only he would hear it. “Look, as you can see behind you, there’s a line forming, so how about you take your change and your exciting new book elsewhere?”

“Sure,” he said with a smirk. “See you later, maybe.”

Angel nodded, not quite trusting her voice.

The last few minutes of her shift passed slowly, more so with Axe still perusing the sales tables. By then, the lineups had all but disappeared, and her colleagues had begun to pack up items and fold tables, wrapping up for the evening. Twenty minutes stretched into twenty years with Axe’s gaze pinned on her as she neatened up. What the hell was he waiting for? No way in hell was she giving him another chance to get her all wound up for no good reason.

Pattie-Jean, her friend from Archives, offered to close out the till while Angel put the remaining books into the surplus storage room at the other end of the building. As she rolled the cart down the wide middle aisle, feeling for her set of keys to unlock the storage room door, Axe fell into step beside her.

“Need some help before I get going?” he asked.

“I’ve had enoughhelpfrom you, thank you very much,” she snapped, so unnerved that it took her a few extra moments to unlock the damned door. She pushed the cart to the back of the small room, then realized he had followed her inside.

“You don’t sound convinced of that,” Axe said over her shoulder.

Angel spun around to face him. “Listen, Axe Voltaire or whatever your name is. No one asked you to come sniffing around me, all right? Whatever mind games you’re into, they’re not working on me.”

All he did was take one step toward her, and Angel was back in his enticing snare, hands on his biceps, pressing up on her tiptoes to meet his awaiting kiss.