Romance By the Book by Sarah Ready

Jessie

The library closed at five.The lights are low and the building is silent. I lead Will through the rows of nonfiction toward the back of the building. The sound of our footsteps is muted on the carpet and I can hear Will’s soft breath from behind me.

He hasn’t said anything since walking the two blocks from Hart’s Chocolates to the library. He didn’t even say anything when I opened the back door of the closed and dark library. It’s because he’s said everything that needs to be said. He wants me, he always has. He won’t step aside and acknowledge Erma is right about my soul mate. There’s nothing more for him to say. The move is mine.

I stop at the end of a row of books. There’s a large thick wooden table with ten upholstered chairs placed around it. The table is handmade and carved around the edges is a scrolling pattern of leaves, branches and acorns. The walls are painted with a mural of an oak tree. Its branches are filled with books. I had the painting commissioned five years ago, shortly after I started working here and was placed in charge of updating the reference section. Will steps beside me. He looks at the mural and lets out a long sigh.

“I didn’t know this was here,” he says.

My breath catches at the quiet awe in his voice. “I had it painted after I started working here.”

He steps to it and runs his hands over the titles of all the books in the tree. His hand stops at the heart of the tree, where I put my favorite. When he turns to me, his expression is hungry.

“Is this what you wanted to show me?”

I move toward him, drawn in by the hunger in his gaze.

“No,” I say.

I take another step toward him. Even when I wanted to, I could never stay away from him. Even now, when Erma told me my dream had finally come true and Gavin is my soul mate, I can’t stay away from Will.

“Then what did you want me to see?”

He looks down at my lips and I imagine him tasting me, tasting the memory of oaky chocolate and hot tea. Of friendship, and dreams, and first kisses and wishes.

I take a deep breath and turn to the tall bookcase with the locked glass door. Inside are all the reference books, the books with leather bindings and gold leaf edges. I take out my key ring and insert a small gold key into the lock. The glass door clicks open. I pull out a thick well-worn album and hold it to my chest.

“This is one of two albums in Romeo that records every soul mate match since 1948.” Chloe has the other album. It’s kept by her Aunt Erma. I set the heavy book on the table. “The head librarian has always been in charge of keeping the records.”

“I see. It’s your irrefutable proof.” He gives me a wry smile.

I sit down in one of the cushioned chairs at the table and open the book to the last page. It’s a picture and record of Veronica’s wedding.

Will sits down in the chair next to me. He turns the pages and we look at the pictures. The styles of the wedding dresses and tuxedoes change as we flip back through the decades, until we’re at a photo of a man in a World War II era Air Force uniform kissing his bride.

I stop looking at the pictures and instead I watch Will. When he leans down, a lock of hair falls across his forehead. I want to reach out and brush it back. As he looks through the pages, his fingers curl under with tension. I ache to take his hand. Will reaches the last page and gently closes the book. We sit in the quiet stillness of the library. Neither of us speaks.

Finally, I run my hand over the soft leather binding. “I used to wish that someday I’d end up in this book.”

Will nods, a short, curt acknowledgment.

“And now that Erma saw my soul mate, I could be the next entry.”

Will’s jaw clenches. I reach out and brush my fingers along it. He looks at me. His body coils with tension but he doesn’t move.

“Do you know what I realized?” I don’t take my hand from his cheek.

“What?” he says, his voice is raw.

“You were right. It doesn’t matter anymore.”

Will swallows and his eyes narrow on me. “What does that mean?”

I take my hand off his cheek. “Erma said that my soul mate was the Williams boy I’ve always loved. But I loved a fantasy. I loved the idea of Gavin. I hung onto that fantasy for years, it was the life raft that got me through the worst storm of my life. But I’m on dry land now. I don’t need a fantasy anymore. It’s time I admitted I loved the idea of a person, not the actual person.”

Maybe Erma did make her first mistake. Because there’s nothing between Gavin and me, not even the smallest spark. The only thing Gavin and I have common is…Will.

I look at Will and give him a small smile. “You don’t have to keep hanging around, sticking to me like glue. Your brother is safe. Your business merger is safe.”

Will stares at me, then his expression shifts from confused to stunned to determined.

“I believe in soul mates,” he says.

“What?” I shake my head. What is he talking about?

“I believe in soul mates,” he says more firmly. He gestures at the book, "I believe in them.”

“What? Why?” I push away from the table so I can see him better. Why is he admitting this now?

“Because the first time I saw you I knew I wanted to be yours for the rest of my life.”

I think about him pushing me into the mud puddle. “You didn’t.”

“I did,” he says firmly. “And every time I saw you after that, the feeling only grew stronger. If that isn’t a belief in soul mates, I don’t know what is.”

A warmth flows through me and I realize something. “You’ve been the one constant in my life. You’ve been with me for the last twenty years. I know more about you than I do about anyone else.”

It’s true. And I’m no longer surprised that it’s true. Every time Will came to town, I vibrated at his presence like a tuning fork freshly struck. All those years I “disliked” him, I was aware of him, fighting my desire, fighting that he was the one. My one.

“Can I be honest?”

His eyes warm and he nods.

I clasp my hands together and drop them in my lap. Then I whisper, “I’m terrified that if I tell you I want you—”

He lets out a harsh breath. I pause but he doesn’t say anything, so I continue.

“If I tell you that I want you, I’m terrified you’ll stand up, smiled coldly, and walk away. But not before you let me know that I should’ve realized you’d do anything to keep me from ruining your business and your brother’s life. I’m terrified the second I admit how I feel, you’ll let me know this was all a game. And you’ll leave me.” I look down at my clasped hands. I’m afraid to look in his face. “I’m scared because I don’t care about being in this book anymore. I don’t care about soul mate predictions or fate. I just care about you.”

He pushes back from the table and my stomach drops. I hold my breath, waiting for him to say something, anything.

He steps next to me and holds out his hand, palm up. I let out my held breath and slowly place my hand in his. The touch of his skin on mine sends a whispered promise through me. He pulls me to my feet. We stand facing each other. Cool, muted light and thousands of books surround us. He takes my other hand and squeezes gently.

“Tell me,” he says. His eyes warm to the shade of the blue chicory flowers I love. The ones from my meadow.

“Say it,” he whispers.

My heart beats so hard against my rib cage that my chest hurts. I’ve never admitted to anyone, not my dad or my friends, not anyone, that I want them or need them. Because then they might leave me.

Will looks down at me and squeezes my hands again.

My chest feels like it’s being hammered down by my pounding heart. I stare into Will’s eyes and grab onto the familiarity of them like a lifeline.

“I want you,” I say. “I need you.”

Will lets out a low sound and lets go of my hands. Instead of walking away he pulls me to him. His eyes fill with need.

“I’m going to kiss you.”

“Yes.”

Then he takes my face in his hands, runs his fingers in my hair and lifts my lips to his. He lets out a possessive noise and I catch the sound in my mouth. I didn’t know it, but every kiss before this has been restrained. Will pours his need into my mouth, I catch it, suck on his tongue, lick his lips.

He pulls me closer. His fingers trail through my hair, grasp me tight. He takes one arm and lifts me onto him. I wrap my legs around his hips. My breasts rub against his chest and it sends a throb between my legs. I sink into him, and when I feel the hard length of him pressed against me, I gasp. He puts his hand to my lower back and presses me closer. I cry out and rock into him. His tongue thrusts in and out of my mouth mimicking the movement of my hips.

“Will,” I cry out. Little electric sparks pulse through me and travel down to the space between my legs.

“Say it again,” he whispers against my mouth.

“I want you.”

He carries me backwards until my back hits the bookcase against the wall. Books tumble around us and hit the floor. He steps to the side and presses me to the wall. He sends his mouth to my throat and sucks on my pulse point. I cry out and grab the edge of the shelf, knocking more books off. He swears and his hands squeeze my hips and pull me closer. My dress flares up and over my hips. There’s nothing separating us but my panties and his jeans. I arch into him and he bucks.

“What else?” he asks. “Tell me what else.”

I know what he’s asking for.

“I need you,” I whisper. “I need you.”

His eyes fill with wild joy. He kisses me, swings me around and sets me gently to the floor. I shove the books aside. He lowers himself on top of me, his legs nestle around mine, his arms cage me in. He looks down at me, there’s the joy I saw, and something else, something that makes my heart pound.

I think it’s…love.

I recognize it because I feel the same thing. There’s no running from it, not here, not now.

I can see it in his eyes, he’s not going to leave me, not ever. Like he said, he’ll give me heaven, soul mate or not. I’m not afraid anymore. He’s mine and I’m his.

“I want you,” I say. His eyes go dark.

He runs his hands over my ribs and sends his thumbs to circle my nipples. I cry out and lift my hips and press them against him.

“If we do this. You’re mine. I’m not letting you go.” He says it as a warning.

“Promise?”

He grins then flips up my dress and slides my panties down my legs.

“Promise,” he says. Then he drops his mouth to my clit. He sucks on me and I cry out at the flood of sensation. I grab his shoulders. He moves his hands to my bare thighs and holds me in place as he strokes me with his tongue.

A fiery heat consumes me, fills me, and I want more. I want Will. I drag my fingers over his shoulders, up his cheeks, through his hair. He hums on my clit and it throbs in response. I arch up to him and he grabs my hips and holds me against his mouth. I’m in his arms, bare to him, open.

“Cum for me,” he says.

The fire grows hotter, I’m drunk on it. There’s only the heat, me and Will.

“Cum for me,” he demands.

He flicks his tongue over my clit and the fire breaks free and rages through me. I cry out, convulse below him as he strokes me and kisses me.

When I lay back, limp, but still burning for him, he lifts his head and smiles at me. My heart leaps at that smile and I grin back, like we just took on the world and won. Then he takes me in his arms and carries me to the long table. He lays me on it. I watch as he pulls off his shirt. His chest is muscular and slick with sweat. His shoulders are defined and strong. They’d have to be—he carries so much responsibility. It shows how much he cares.

My eyes catch the trail of dark hair leading down his abdomen to his pants. His fingers hesitate at his buttons. I look up into his eyes. He’s giving me one last chance to change my mind.

“You promised,” I say. “Heaven.”

He doesn’t wait for me to say more. He kicks off his pants and his length springs free. It’s thick, hard and beautiful.

I sit up and pull my dress off and unsnap my bra. He looks thunderstruck.

“Come here,” I say.

I don’t have to say it twice. He climbs onto the table and pushes me back to the cool wood. The length of his body presses into mine, his skin on mine, touching everywhere. Heaven.

I never realized it, but it’s what I’ve been waiting for my whole life.

“Jessie,” he whispers, there’s aching love in his voice.

Then he takes my wrists and shackles them in his hands. He presses them above my head and holds me down.

“I won’t let you go,” he says.

“Who says I’ll let you?” I tilt my hips up to him in offering. He plunges inside me.

Who knew that heaven would feel so much like coming home?