Can't Help My Shelf (His Curvy Librarian Book 3) by Frankie Love (the little red hen read aloud TXT) 📕

I hold out my hand and watch as Nora’s cheeks grow rosy. “I’m sorry, I know better than to make assumptions about those kinds of things. I don’t know what I was thinking.”

She takes my hand, her skin soft and warm against mine, and our eyes lock in a way that goes much deeper than a simple pleased to meet you. Then Chelsea pops up between us holding a stack of books. “Can I get all these?”

I look to Nora. “What’s the checkout limit?”

“Way more than that,” she says with a reassuring smile to Chelsea. “Did you remember to bring your library card today?”

“Of course,” Chelsea says, practically rolling her eyes at the suggestion that she could possibly forget something so important.

I chuckle and Nora points her toward the checkout counter, just a few feet away. I tell her to go ahead and Chelsea races over to the waiting librarian, like a miniature grown-up with her arms full of books.

“She’s precocious,” I say to Nora, who nods.

“She’s adorable,” she agrees. “And again, sorry for assuming…”

I crack a smile. “Isn’t ‘don’t judge a book by its cover’ like, the first thing they teach you in library school?”

She laughs, and it’s a musical sound. I catch her eyes drifting over me, fast like a flash but unmistakable, and then she looks at me again as she says, “True, but you can still learn a lot that way.”

My chest is filled with that tight sensation again, an unfamiliar desire that makes me want to sit through storytime all over again, and whatever else Miss Nora has on her schedule for the afternoon. Instead, I glance in the direction of the checkout area and see that Chelsea is almost done. I only have a few seconds more alone with Nora.

So I go for it.

“Forgive me if I’m being forward, but would you like to have dinner with me?”

The color in Nora’s cheeks deepens, but the corner of her lip curves into a smile. “You are being forward… but I forgive you.”

“Is that a yes?” I ask, my heart actually beating a little faster. What the hell has gotten into me?

“Yes,” she says, reaching for a scrap of paper on a nearby desk and writing down her address. “Pick me up at seven.”

Then Chelsea comes charging back over, a little slower now because her backpack is loaded down with bunny books. “Come on, Uncle Nash, let’s go read!”

I shoot Nora one last smile, and a wink for good measure, then take Chelsea’s hand as we head back outside.

3

Nora

The moment Nash and Chelsea disappear out the front door, Cassidy and Brooklyn descend on me like they’ve been spying the whole time.

“Oh my gosh, Nor, what was that?” my sister asks.

“That was Nash, apparently,” I say, my head still spinning a bit. Did I seriously just agree to go on a date with one of my storytime kids’ relatives? No way that can go wrong…

“He was hot,” Brooklyn says, and I have to agree.

All through storytime, I kept stealing glances at Nash’s soft brown eyes, his chiseled jaw, the thick black frames of his glasses that would look nerdy on anyone else but only made me want to send all the kids home early so we could do a little silent reading of our own.

Wow. Is it the fact that I’m ovulating right now, or did Nash himself turn me into a puddle of hormones?

“So?” Cassidy prompts, and I look innocently at her.

“So what?”

“Pick me up at seven.” She parrots my own words back at me, then gives me a wry smile. “You’re going on a date with him?”

“Eavesdropper,” I say, giving her a little shove just like when we were kids and it was my job as the older sister to keep her in line.

“Well, I think it’s about time,” Brooklyn adds. “When’s the last time you went out on a date?”

Ugh, don’t make me do the math. I shrug, thinking instead about my appointment at the fertility center on Friday. What was I thinking, accepting a date in the same week I finally take the plunge to start my family solo?

Cassidy and Brooklyn don’t know about that yet—they’re my best friends and they know I’ve been thinking about starting a family on my own, but I’m still too nervous about it to tell them I actually made an appointment. Maybe once I know I’m pregnant…

“The fact that you can’t even come up with an answer tells me that you probably have nothing to wear,” Brooklyn says.

“I have a lot of pretty dresses,” I object, but she shakes her head.

“No, I’m talking about underneath,” she says in a whisper, then nudges me with her elbow. “You should stop in at that cute new lingerie shop downtown on your way home, pick up something special.”

“I don’t know—”

“Do it or we’ll chaperone and make sure you pick out something crotchless,” Cassidy threatens, and I laugh at the same time that my cheeks burn red.

“Okay, okay,” I say. “I’ll do it.”

It’s not the worst idea ever. They’re right—it’s probably been years since the last time I went on a date that actually had chemistry, and my underwear drawer has been shifting decidedly toward the practical end lately. It wouldn’t kill me to pick up something that makes me feel sexy… and I must confess, if only to myself, that from the way he was looking at me, there’s a good chance Nash will get a peek at what I buy.

So I’m getting inseminated on Friday… that doesn’t mean I can’t have a little fun first. A last hurrah before I become a mommy and gain all the responsibilities that go along with the title.

After my shift ends, I drive to the lingerie shop and pick up something both lacy and silky that flatters my curves. Then, on a whim, I go next door to a boutique that always has drool-worthy dresses in the windows. It’s pricy, but