After his death, Gene and Marjory Gilbert had been a godsend, taking her to the library between beauty pageants. A few months ago, when she was worried she wouldn’t be able to keep the bookstore going, it was the Gilberts, bringing in their friends to buy books and purchase her baked goods, that had allowed her to get through the hard times.
She met her old friend’s gaze and knew what she needed to do.
“Would you walk me down the aisle, Mr. Gilbert?” she asked.
Gene tapped his hearing aid. “This thing must be on the fritz. It sounded like you asked this old codger to walk you down the aisle,” he teased, but his playful expression dissolved into a teary smile.
“Well?” she asked, her gaze growing glassy.
He steepled his hands and stared at his wedding ring. “Marjorie and I weren’t able to have children. Did you know that?”
She shook her head. “I didn’t know.”
“We’ve always thought of your father as a son and you as a granddaughter, especially now that your grandparents have passed.”
“You have?”
He patted her hand. “Why, sure! What do you think we’re doing here in your shop all the time? Do you think we eat those muffins because they’re good? We order them because we love you,” he added, with a cheeky grin, but the shine in his eyes betrayed his snarky words.
She wiped another tear from her cheek. “Hey, codger, I’ve watched you eat three of my chocolate chip muffins in one sitting.”
“Maybe they’re not that bad,” he countered.
“So, are you in on this crazy wedding? Will you walk me down the aisle?” she asked.
The man nodded. “I’d be honored to stand in for your dad, Georgie.”
“What’s all this?” Marjory asked, patting Gene’s tear-streaked cheek as she joined them at the counter. “You’re not reading Chicken Soup for the Soul again, are you? Sweetheart, you sobbed for days.”
Gene kissed his wife’s cheek. “No chicken soup books, dear. Georgie asked me to walk her down the aisle.”
“Georgie, that’s so lovely of you,” the woman said, reaching out and squeezing her hand.
“I’m the lucky one. I’m so grateful to the both of you,” Georgie replied with a wide, teary grin as the door to the shop opened, and Jordan entered the cozy space.
She waved him over. “Guess who’s going to walk me down the aisle?”
“I am!” Gene answered before Jordan could even guess.
“That’s terrific news,” Jordan said, shaking the man’s hand.
Her fiancé had grown especially fond of Mr. Gilbert.
“I see you don’t have your cane with you, Gene,” Jordan observed with a triumphant nod.
“Nope, I haven’t needed it since I started training with you,” the man replied, going into a bodybuilder pose that had them all laughing.
Jordan had talked Gene into a few training sessions that had bloomed into ongoing twice-weekly workouts.
“And there have been other benefits,” Gene said, lowering his voice.
“Other benefits?” Georgie asked, stealing a glance at Jordan.
Mr. Gilbert slid off the barstool and straightened up. “Let’s just say my wife doesn’t mind having a more virile husband around the house.”
Marjory blushed like a schoolgirl. “You’re terrible, Gene! Now, come on. Let’s let Jordan and Georgie have a moment together,” the woman said, threading her arm with her husband’s as they returned to the group of knitting ladies.
“It looks like Mrs. Gilbert is all over Mr. Gilbert,” Jordan teased as Mr. Gilbert surreptitiously patted his wife’s bottom before she took her seat.
“I’d say you’ve got a client for life. How was your workout with the high school kids this afternoon? Did you find a trainer to step in while we’re at bridal boot camp?” Georgie asked, straightening a row of coffee mugs.
At the mention of boot camp, her fiancé beamed. “I did. Sara’s going to fill in, and Simon said he’d be able to help out and run the after-school workouts.”
“How about everything with the bookshop? Did you get things all squared away?” he asked.
She nodded. “Becca’s able to step up, and a couple of the part-timers said they could take on more hours. Oh, and Talya, remember her? She’s the high school student who’s volunteering in the children’s area. She said she could handle the story times for me.”
A wolfish twist graced Jordan’s lips. “It looks like we’re ready for boot camp, baby. But I do have a bookkeeping question. Can you come with me to your office?”
“Maureen’s not here,” she replied, trying to read this man.
“We don’t need Maureen for this,” he answered.
Georgie signaled to Becca that she was going into the back as Jordan followed behind.
“What was the question?” she asked as she heard the door to the snug space close and lock before Jordan pressed her back against the door.
“I’ve wanted to do this all damned day,” he breathed, peppering her neck with kisses.
With all the engagement excitement, they hadn’t even kissed since he’d proposed.
She wrapped her arms around his neck and threaded her fingers into the hair at the nape of his neck. He smelled good, freshly showered, his skin still warm from the heated spray of water. She closed her eyes and inhaled the clean, earthy scent of his soap and imagined all those rivulets of water trailing down his cut abs and his muscled forearms.
“We shouldn’t do this. We’re on the no fornication protocol,” she whispered on a sigh, but it didn’t stop her from tilting her head to give him more access.
“This isn’t fornicating. I looked it up. Fornication is consensual sexual intercourse. This is simply a guy making his fiancée come hard.”
Holy hell!
He captured her mouth in a scorching kiss and lifted her into his arms. With her back against the door, Jordan’s hard length pressed between her thighs.
“Georgiana, you smell so good,” he breathed, digging his fingertips into the flesh of her ass as he ran his tongue across the seam of her lips.
“It’s the scented dryer sheets,” she said on a dreamy sigh.
Not the sexiest of replies, but it had been a long day.
A very long day.
She wrapped her legs around him and tightened her grip. Everything about this man’s touch set her on fire.
“Have you been a naughty librarian this afternoon?” he whispered against the shell of her ear, and a delicious shiver cartwheeled down her spine.
Sweet Lord! The man could dirty talk.
“I organized a few shelves, then snuck a copy of the Kama Sutra in with the self-improvement books.”
“You are one bad, bad girl. But I’ll say this. That book did wonders for us,” he answered.
“The best kind of stress relief,” she purred, remembering how they’d used that excuse the first time they’d slept together.
“All the stress relief,” he repeated on a sexy chuckle.
Jordan released her, setting her feet onto the floor before turning her away from him. Her back pressed to his hard torso as she craned her head to meet his kiss. His hand eased past the band of her skirt, and his fingers dipped into her panties. She lifted her arms and arched her back, giving him complete access to her body. He found her tight bundle of nerves and worked her in perfect little circles that had her gasping for breath within seconds.