Sweet Dandelion

I know of the book, but never read it. I’m not a big reader as it is, and I can’t imagine ever enjoying something like this.

“Because it’s my favorite. I’m loaning it to you for you to read.”

I try to hand it back to him. “No, I couldn’t. I can go buy it.”

He does touch me then.

His hands close around my flailing ones, holding them against the surface of the book. Those blue eyes of his, so similar to the one on the cover, render me frozen.

“I know you’ll take care of it, Dani.”

“Are you sure?” I blink up at him.

“If I wasn’t sure I wouldn’t have offered it in the first place.”

“Well,” I clear my throat, suddenly overcome with some kind of emotion I can’t place, “thank you.”

He releases my hands and I instantly miss the feel of his rough palms pressed against them, strong and sure.

I open the front cover and find his name scrawled in the corner in scratchy handwriting that’s kind of sloppy but still legible.

Lachlan Matthew Taylor.

“Lachlan is a unique name.” I close the cover of the book. I’ve seen his first name on his badge, but never asked him about it before. “Family name?”

He nods, straightening a model car on his shelf. I notice he’s made this office space much more his own compared to the generic, no window, office I first stepped into.

“Named after my great-grandfather who immigrated from Scotland.”

“It’s a cool name.”

He chuckles. “I guess that’s a compliment coming from a girl named Dandelion Meadows.”

He grins at me, his eyes crinkling in the corners.

Do not think about how handsome he is. Don’t do it.

“Dandelion is not cool,” I scoff, scanning more of the books on his shelves.

The heat in the room grows. “I think it is.”

I close my eyes, trying not to think about the fact that I want him to touch me. To ghost his fingers along my shoulder. Cup my neck.

Stop!

Having a crush on him is one thing, he’s one of the best looking guys—men—I’ve ever seen and I’m only human. But picturing him touching me? Kissing me? That’s taking it too far.

“We’ll agree to disagree on that one.” I move away from the bookshelf and back behind his desk.

Space, I have to put space between us.

His eyes narrow on my shuffle as my left side decides now is the perfect time to give me a fit. The bell rings and I grab my backpack.

Holding the book up in one hand I say, “T-Thank you for the book. I’ll bring it back after I read it.”

“You’re welcome. Dani—”

But he can’t finish his thought as I scurry from the room, closing the door behind me. My leg is stiff and unyielding as I limp down the hall, holding my breath to see if he comes after me, to ask what’s wrong, why I’m freaking out.