Logan (Carolina Reapers 4)

“Okay, let’s get started,” I said to the group.

And then I read.

At some point during the hour, I’d seen Delaney walk in, but I was too busy concentrating on the words to pay too much attention. It was a fantasy about a pair of twins who had set off to battle a dragon, only to realize it was really their father, who’d been enchanted.

“The end,” I finally said just a few minutes past the hour’s time limit, and the kids burst into applause and cheers.

I grinned as Delaney walked over, clapping. Her sweater was cut straight across her collarbones, leaving a strip of skin bare before it gathered above her shoulders, and her skirt—

I looked away before my thoughts got me in trouble.

“I’m so glad you all came to story hour today!” Delaney told the children. “I’m so sorry that Mr. Lancaster couldn’t make it, but let’s all give a big hand to Mr. Ward!”

Wait...the TV news anchor was supposed to read? Guess that explained the mix-up when I got to the desk.

The kids clapped, and I exaggerated a bow.

“You are a saint,” Delaney whispered in my ear, then smacked a kiss on my cheek. There was nothing coy or sexual about it, which was just as refreshing as it was frustrating as hell.

“Ms. Collins?” One of the moms approached.

“Give me just a second,” Delaney said to me and then turned toward the mom. “Hi, Mrs. Taylor. What can I help you with?”

The pair walked off, and my eyes followed. I felt a tug on the bottom of my button-down shirt and changed my focus.

A boy with big brown eyes looked up at me. “You’re Logan Ward, aren’t you?” he whispered.

That’s when I noticed what he was wearing. A Reaper jersey. My Reaper jersey to be precise. God, how many times had I worn Blackhawk jerseys growing up in Chicago, and now this kid had my number on his back.

“You are, right?” he urged.

“If you promise not to tell, I’ll answer,” I said, dropping down so we were at the same eye level.

“Can I tell my mom?” he asked, narrowing his eyes.

I looked over his shoulder to see a woman with the same eyes watching us carefully.

“You can tell your mom. But only your mom. Sometimes people see me and get a little wacky.” I made a face.

“It really is you!” he whispered but jumped a little.

“Yeah, it’s me. But it’s not fair that you know my name when I don’t know yours.”

“Ryan! I’m Ryan. Will you sign my jersey?” His eyes lit up.

I glanced over at Delaney, whose back was to me. Well, I guess if she saw me, I wouldn’t be keeping that secret anymore, right? I was leaving it up to fate. Snatching a marker from the cup on the table to my left, I scrawled my name across the patch of white on the kid’s shoulder. “There you go.”

“You’re awesome!” He lunged into my arms, and I caught him in a hug. “Thank you!”

“You’re welcome.”

The kid grinned as he let me go, and then raced off to his mom.

“Man, he really loved your story,” Delaney said with a laugh as I stood. “I looked over just in time to see him launch himself at you.”

“It was a good book.” My heart slammed, both demanding I tell her the full truth and begging me to keep quiet a little longer so I could stay close to her.

“So, Carla—” she pointed back to the volunteer as the room emptied, “—filled me in on what happened. I’m so sorry you got roped into this!” Her nose scrunched and her glasses slid, but she quickly pushed them back up her nose.

“It was nothing,” I assured her.

“Good, because you were super hot doing it. Definitely better looking than Lionel Lancaster, who had a toupee issue and canceled.” Her smile went straight to my head like I’d had four shots of tequila at the bar rather than a glass of water.

“Super hot, huh?” I teased.

“What? Friends are welcome to notice each other’s attractiveness. And besides, a girl is going to go all gooey for any man who sits and reads to a group full of children for an hour.”

“Even Lionel Lancaster?”

“Okay, maybe not every man. So are you going to tell me why you’re here? Or were you always planning on rescuing me from a room full of angry kids when story fiancée time had to be delivered by me again?” She tilted her head.

“I just wanted to see you.” If we’d been dating, or even in the flirtation stage, I would have said something funny or forward, but instead, I’d given her the simple truth. Remarkable how much easier that was.

“Oh!” Her eyebrows rose in surprise as her smile grew. “Well, I’m working until ten, but I could use some company while I file a cart full of books. Super exciting, I know.”