“Mmm,” he said, sliding his hand along her thigh and relishing the way she shivered as his touch moved higher and higher. “No bed to take you to upstairs? What shall we do?”

She gasped when his thumb traced over the front of her panties. His arousal spiked at the feel of the clinging fabric, at how ready she was for him. He put pressure where he knew she needed it most. She whimpered and her hand flew back to brace herself, knocking a stack of books to the floor. She tried to correct the movement but ended up taking out a canister of pencils instead. The pencils clattered against the hardwood. “I’m going to destroy your store like this. Or get impaled by a writing implement.”

He laughed softly and kissed the curve of her neck, his thumb still lazily stroking her, heat building behind the fly of his jeans. “Can’t have that. Guess we’ll have to improvise.”

“Storeroom?” she suggested, her head tipping back as he slipped her sweater dress off her shoulder.

“I’ve got a better idea.” Before she could say anything else, he lifted her up from the counter and carried her away from it.

“Where are we going?”

“I have just the place.” He carried her through the aisles, careful not to knock her into anything, and headed toward a very familiar corner. The canvas tent glowed beneath the white Christmas lights like a mirage, like it’d been waiting just for them. He kicked open the flap with his foot. Fat cushions filled the inside, padding the floor for the perfect reading spot, and a small battery-operated lantern was tucked into the corner.

There would be no reading tonight.

Ash bent down to set Kincaid inside the tent and then turned on the lantern to the lowest setting. Her blond hair fanned out over the dark-green cushions as she looked around. When she realized where they were, she grinned. She lifted a copy of Where the Wild Things Are. “The children’s section? You are a dirty, dirty man.”

He took the book from her, tossed it outside the tent, and then climbed in with her. He braced himself over her, taking in the softly lit woman beneath him and the love in her eyes. “Guilty. You know how many times I would lie in this spot after hours, reading racy books and thinking of you? Imagining you climbing in here with me just like this?”

Heat flared in her hazel eyes, and she slipped her hands beneath the hem of his T-shirt, dragging her fingertips over his abdomen and making him hard and hot. “Tell me what you imagined, Ash.”

He reached down and helped her slip her dress over her head, leaving her in a dark-red bra and pair of panties. “Whatever novel I was reading, you were the heroine. The sharp-tongued lady in Regency England spoke with a southern accent. The sexy demon hunter called the vampires she slayed sugar and cupcake.” He ran a fingertip over the curve of her breast. “The hooker with a heart of gold…”