Page 12

I pull up at Commonplace Books, trying to keep a level head like Riley advised me, yet I don’t want to be too guarded, because I want to experience the same euphoric feeling I felt when I was with Judah at the park yesterday.

This time, the dynamic will be different, because we’re once again in a group setting.

I go inside and immediately see Luna. She has shells and gold beads hanging in her locs. The dress she has looks like something a mermaid would wear. She looks up, sees me, and her eyes brighten.

“Autumn!”

“Hey, Luna,” I say, greeting her with a hug.

As we separate, she says, “Oooh, you look pretty. I like those pants and that blouse.”

I glance down at my outfit. I didn’t think there was anything special about black leggings, but apparently she does. I paired them with an army green tank with a ruffled neckline and black gladiator sandals.

I say, “Oh, these old things. They’re yoga pants. I just wanted to be comfortable.”

“Comfortable and pretty,” she says.

“Thanks, girl. Hey, where is everybody?”

“Moriah and Tab went to the ladies’ room. The others went scavenging for books already. None of the fellas are here yet.”

“Oh. Okay. How long have you been here?”

She rolls her wrist as if she’s looking at a watch but there’s nothing on her arm.

This girl…

“Been here ‘bout fifteen minutes,” she says. She rolls her head like she’s trying to stretch her neck. “Hey, did you see the moon last night? It was a full crescent. Very demure. Very ethereal. I felt so connected.”

“Connected to what, Luna?”

“The universe! If you really stop and pay attention, you can feel the stardust on your skin.”

“Ok, cool. I’ll let you handle that.”

I ease away from Mother Earth to head over to the shelves.

It’s been a while since I’ve cracked open a book and since Judah brought it up, I actually miss it.

The black romance section is where I drift.

I see books by Brenda Jackson, Rochelle Alers, and Kennedy Ryan among other greats.

The black romance section is poppin’! The covers are fire.

Judging by covers alone, I’m taking all these babies home.

“Boo!”

Startled, I jump only to see Judah peep around the corner, catching me by surprise. A smile brightens my face like a ray of sunshine peering through the clouds. I know I look eager, but I can’t help it. He brings the giddiness out of me.

“Hey!” I say, elated to see him, as if I didn’t see him yesterday.

And my goodness— did he get finer since yesterday?

He has on a black baseball cap turned to the back.

Looks like a different person with it on.

He’s usually business casual. Today, he has on jeans, a black shirt and a pair of black Nikes.

And he smells divine. He smells so good, I’m tempted to ask him what cologne he put on.

Then there’s that million-dollar smile. His teeth are white like snow.

His smile embraces me. Comforts me. Holds me.

It makes everything about him shine, especially that buttery brown skin and the black hair that contrasts with it, yet complements it so perfectly.

So many times I’ve wanted to touch his beard to determine its texture. And then there are his lips.

“What do you think you’re doing? I told you I was buying and picking out your book.”

“Um…I recall you said buying —not picking one out. Plus, you weren’t here, so I went ahead and started looking.”

“I was here. I saw you when you came in.”

“You did?”

“Un huh.”

“I didn’t see you. Why didn’t you say anything?”

“I was too busy watching and admiring.”

“Watching and admiring what, exactly?”

An easy, slow smile touches his lips. “The woman I spent the day with yesterday. The woman I couldn’t get off my mind all last night—that I stayed up tossing and turning for, counting down the hours, minutes, seconds until I could see her again.”

My cheeks warmed at his admission. “Hmm…she must be something.”

“She is. If I look tired, it’s your fault.”

“I’m sorry. I’ll try not to be so memorable this time.”

“Too late. That face of yours is branded into my memory.”

He turns to the book section that I’m looking at and says, “Ah. Romance. I should’ve known.”

“Why?”

“You seem like the kind of woman who enjoys a good love story while you’re looking for your own happy ending.”

“Yep. That’s me. I am that woman.”

He drags his index finger across the book spines, then says, “I have a book joke for you.”

“Oh no.”

Grinning, he says, “Hear me out.”

“Okay. What you got?” I ask, pinching back a smile.

He clears his throat and asks, “Why wasn’t the paperback attracted to the hardback?”

“Why?”

“It thought the hardback book had a big prose . Get it? Nose—prose.”

I snorted a laugh and covered my mouth with my right hand to quiet myself. Then I say, “Judah, don’t ever tell anymore jokes.”

“It was funny, though, right?” he asks, amused. “See, that’s why you’re laughing.”

“No, sir. Don’t you ever in your life—” I say, still laughing, “—tell that joke ever again.”

Still amused, I say, “You’re cute, though.”

I take a book from the shelf and read the back cover. Judah takes it out of my hand and says, “I’m choosing your book,” then puts the book I was reading back on the shelf.

He roams the shelves with keen eyes, then turns to me and asks, “What’s the name of the last author you read?”

“Rochelle Alers….I think.”

“Okay, so you’re not getting one of hers.”

“But she’s one of my favorites.”

I take one of her books off the shelf. He takes it from my hand and puts it back on the shelf then steps up to me, crowding my personal space with his lengthy body, caging me between his arms as he rests his hands on the shelf behind me.

“What part about me telling you I’m picking your book don’t you understand?”

“Um,” I say, nervously chewing my lip while staring helplessly into his eyes that are laser-focused on my face.

The energy between us is palpable. Electric.

A force. An uneasiness creeps over me. The good kind.

The kind that makes butterflies flit around my stomach.

The kind that makes me unaware of what’s about to happen next while at the same time having a pretty good idea. He’s going to kiss me.

The smile falls from his face when he stares down at my face. It falls from mine when I feel his thumb floating lightly across my freckled cheeks. A shiver traverses down my spine that nearly paralyzes me.

“Judah,” I utter in a single breath.

Before I can lick my lips, he bends down and swipes his hot, wet tongue across my lips in one steady motion, then pulls my lips into his mouth, sucking on them for a moment, then kisses me gently, yet with enough pressure to make my toes curl.

He takes my lower lip into his mouth and then the upper, then both again, not preferring one over the other.

He wants my entire mouth, and I willingly give it to him, angling my head up as his hands settle behind my head.

After the initial shock has worn off, I relax into it.

Why shock? Because from everything I know about Judah, he doesn’t want a relationship with anyone.

He’s dismissed women who thought they’d change his mind.

Yet, he’s kissing me like that’s all he wants.

He moans softly, reestablishing a new grip on my neck and delving deeper, connecting our mouths in a way my mouth has never been connected to anyone.

More moans come. Some from me, but most from him. It tells me he’s deprived himself of this – of allowing himself this kind of connection because of his health. Right now, he’s making up for all of it.

He’s not letting up or letting me go.

He kisses me deeper – so deep, he’s tasted my thoughts for tomorrow and tickled my brain with the effortless swipes of his delicious tongue.

I skip breaths and heartbeats and just when I think my feet are going to lift from the floor, he stops and stares down at me, licking his lips like he’s gearing up for round two.

I’m tempted to look around to make sure no one in his circle is witnessing this, but I can’t seem to tear my eyes away from his. There’s so much emotion in his gaze. So many words he leaves unsaid but that kiss spoke for him. It said so much. So freakin’ much.

“Judah—”

He takes my hand and says, “Come with me.”

“Where are we going?”

“Here,” he says, pinning me to the wall in a private little nook by the rear store exit. He goes in for more of my lips.

He moans.

He tastes my lips like ice cream.

He moans some more.

My hands lay flat on his beard. He pulls me closer to him. My tongue may as well be his because it’s more in his mouth than it is in mine. And the way he’s holding me…

“Mmm, Judah…”

This kiss is ruining me – leaving me with all kinds of thoughts.

Of dreaming about what a life with him would feel like.

Riley warned me to be cautious, but with Judah, I don’t want my guard up.

I want it down. Out the window. Nonexistent.

And that’s exactly where it is as he picks me up.

I wrap my legs around his waist and hold on as he pries my mouth further open.

He’s kissing me so deeply, we’re nearly tonsil to tonsil.

My legs wrap around his waist and I hold on and enjoy this ride.

I focus on delivering him the same kind of kiss he’s delivering to me – matching his energy and savoring the taste of his mouth.

I don’t think about the customers walking by, the workers, or even his friends.

I mean, we’re in the romance section after all.

Perhaps this is what we were supposed to be doing anyway – creating our own love story instead of looking for one to buy.

Abruptly – almost too abruptly, he lowers me to my feet and says, “Sorry. I got a little carried away.”

“It’s okay. I like being carried away,” I say, slipping my hands beneath his shirt, touching his back and watching him close his eyes in response – in pure pleasure just from a touch.