Curvy Librarian

  Curves in the City: Book 2

  Flora Madison

  Copyright © 2020 by Flora Madison

  www.floramadisonromance.com

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  Edited by Geeky Girl Author Services

  Contents

  Author’s Note

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Epilogue

  Also by Flora Madison

  Thanks for Reading!

  Author’s Note

  Brooklyn is my city, the borough I’ve spent the majority living in. I love it here so much that sometimes I dread heading into Manhattan, and the Brooklyn Public Library … it’s fantastic! I walk a mile to the central branch several times a week. It sits right next to Prospect Park with plenty of cafés to stop for a coffee along the way.

  I hope you enjoy reading about this curvy book lover and her alpha man about town!

  Thank you so much for reading! And enjoy visiting Prospect Heights in Brooklyn, NY.

  1

  Mimi

  For five weeks I’ve been waiting for this release, and it’s finally here. It’s finally time. I stroke the glossy hardcover book, fingers rising and falling over every groove on the embossed lettering. My tongue dances across my lips as I press my back into the plastic chair of the break room and take in its beauty. I usually save this sort of behavior for the privacy of my own bedroom, but when your favorite author puts out a new release after three years of radio silence, it’s a-okay to devour it in public, on your lunch break, at the Brooklyn Public Library.

  A shiver runs through me as I suppress a giggle. One of the perks of being a librarian is getting your hands on books before anyone else. My sandwich sits in front of me, unwrapped. My peppermint tea steams from its cup.

  “It’s just you and me, baby,” I whisper to my book. “For forty-five minutes. You and me.” I take a deep breath and crack open the spine, taking my time reading the author’s note and dedication. The only bad thing about a new book is knowing that it’s going to eventually end. Everything good does. But I won’t think about that now. Instead, I’ll sit back, relax, and enjoy this moment. And I’ll ignore the footsteps growing closer outside the break room door.

  What the … ?

  I specifically timed my break so that I would be back here alone. I take a deep breath and shake off the agitation. My eyes dance over the page, eager to start this new adventure. But I don’t have the chance to get past the words, “Chapter One” before laughter resounds from the hall just outside the door. Low, deep, and definitely male. My heart rate quickens, teeth gnashing into my lower lip. The footsteps come to a halt, followed by his distant, echoey voice, pinging against the cavernous hallway.

  The heel of my Dansko sandal beats rapidly against the cement floor. Maybe if I remain patient, the person will keep walking? I take a deep breath and wait for the clicking feet to pass me by.

  No such luck. The hard soled shoes shuffle to a halt right outside the door, then he speaks. “I’m finishing up at the library and will be another hour, at least.” The man’s throaty laugh penetrates the silence. I have no idea who he is, but if he’s a patron he definitely cannot be back here.

  My lips purse, nostrils flare; The fairy patience passed me over at birth. I lean forward, teeth gnashing into the sourdough bread I now cannot enjoy, and wash it down with a sip of my tea. “I don’t know if that’s even a possibility today, my man,” he continues. I re-read the first sentence, trying to block him out. “I’ve got three other engagements to which I’m already committed.” Another laugh follows.

  I rip off my glasses, put my book down on the table, and run my tongue over my teeth to make certain there’s no bits of bread between them. The chair skids beneath me when I stand, mumbling to myself. “It’s my only break all day, and dammit if I want to read I should be able to do it in peace.” My hand twists the handle and I pull the door open, mouth ajar, ready to chew someone a new one. But I stop short when I see who’s on the other side.

  He turns to me in what feels like slow motion. One hand in the pocket of his dark jeans. His cornflower blue eyes beam in my direction, golden specks spattered within. His light denim button down clings perfectly to his massive arms, giving him a herculean quality. Combine that with his hulking frame, and the longish, wavy dark hair hanging down to his chin, you’d think I’d just walked straight into a Marvel movie.

  Gulp!

  I don’t know what to say. I’m out here for a reason. If only I could remember why. Why? Why? Why? Then it hits me. “No phones out here.”

  Oh my God, I’ve turned into a quintessential librarian at the absolute worst time. Groovy.

  “Hey, Brett?” The modern day Conan says through pursed lips. “I’m going to have to call you back.” I want to run and hide, get back to my book and pretend I didn’t just totally snap at the hottest man I’ve ever been this close to IRL, but when he turns to me his phone’s already half-way into his back pocket.

  He steps toward me and I lose all sense of my surroundings. “I didn’t mean to disturb you.” My center clenches, wondering what it would feel like to try and wrap my legs around that trim, tree trunk waist of his.

  “It’s okay,” I manage to squeak out, pointing over my shoulder. “I was just on my lunch break.”

  “What’s on the menu?” His eyes crinkle at the corners.

  I’m taken aback by his response. “Just a quick bite and a new book I’ve been dying to read.” My eyes roll, hands clasped in front of me. If I didn’t sound like a nerdy librarian before …

  “Raiden Bringer,” he says extending his gigantic hand. “And I promise I’ll be more considerate in the future when I visit this site.”

  “Mimi Roland.” My temperature rises when I slip my palm in his. “What do you mean site?”

  “I’m in charge of the renovation of the children’s wing.”

  I can’t hide the smile splashed across my face. “That’s so cool!”

  “Yeah, I’m very excited about it.” He says, and steps closer. I breathe him in: aquatic, airy and fresh like a day at the beach. “Want to see the plans?” For a moment, I can’t speak. Is this greek god with the slight bump in his nose asking me to go with him? I must’ve misunderstood him. The mischievous look in his eyes softens, and he moves back slightly. “Unless, of course,” his mouth twists. “You probably want to finish your book.”

  “It can wait,” I wave my hand through the air, then reach back and close the break room door behind me. Intimidated by Raiden’s—is that even a name?—sheer beauty or not, I refuse to let that interfere with an opportunity to smell him a little while longer. And here I thought the best part of my lunch break was going to be my book. It goes to show, there’s always an adventure waiting for you at the library.

  I turn on my heel and walk down the hall with Raiden, willing my shaking knees to keep me steady on my feet.

  2

  Raiden

  She’s the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen, and I’ve had my eye on her for quite a while. The day my company signed onto the renovations she was behind the circulation desk, glasses perched on her nose, dark brown hair tied into a messy bun on top of her head. Her hefty cleavage spilled from the top of her blouse as she leaned over to grab a book. I knew I’d run into her soon enough, but I’m dumbstruck by how much more beautiful she is up close.

  Her sweet scent washes over me as I lead her to the proposed site of the new children’s wing. It’s six months of work ahead for my crew, but if it means seeing Mimi every day then I’ll be here each and every morning alongside them. If only I weren’t juggling so many projects at once.

  “So it’s not going to be in the same spot?” She asks, sounding like a phone-sex operator. Does she even know what that voice of hers does to me? I train my eyes on her plump lips, wondering if they taste as good as they look.

  “It will be, but the expansion reaches further out toward Eastern Parkway,” I say sweeping my hand across the room where miniature tables and chairs sit perched along the wall of windows. “I know it’s dorky, but I’ve always loved the library.” Her green eyes dance when they meet mine, delicate fingers clasped in front of her breasts. She seemed tough all of the times I saw her behind the desk, but now, with her eyes filled with wonder, she seems more like a little kid on Christmas.

  “Libraries are awesome.” I say, even though I haven’t spent much time in them aside from heading their redesigns. My life is spent selling my services to clients or wooing them into choosing my firm. “Especially this one. There’s something magical about this branch.”

  “You see it too? I love that.” Mimi walks toward a small set of stairs, and I can’t help but catch an eyeful of her gorgeous, round ass. Seriously, this woman’s picture should be in the dictionary under ‘curvy.’ My pulse quickens when she turns back to me, and I quickly avert my eyes from her backside. “Will there still be a teen meet-up lab?”

  “A bigger and better one. With new desktops from what I hear.”

  “That’s the rumor.” Her eyebrows wiggle as she bites into her bottom lip. “It’s so refreshing to hear this.” She wrangles her hair elastic out from her bun until her long, flowing locks cascade down her back in a wild tangle. “A lot of parents use the library as a babysitter, unfortunately. They count on us in a way. But, at least they have a place to go where they won’t get in too much trouble.” She wraps her hair back up securely on top of her head, unaware that seeing her like that brought to life every naughty librarian fantasy I’ve ever had. A fantasy that’s kicked up a notch since I laid eyes on her. “Unless you count reading Fifty Shades of Grey.”

  “They don’t do that.”

  “Oh, I’ve caught them in the act.” She snaps her fingers, causing her breasts to jiggle. Damn! I clear my throat, and adjust my zipper before pointing back to the main entrance. “Let me walk you back.” Hopefully, it distracts her from seeing how hard I am for her.

  Mimi nods, and we make our way to the main entrance. “I do have a few questions, though.”

  “Shoot.”

  “You said it will take six months?”

  “So, you listen?”

  A little huff escapes her mouth. “Is it going to be, you know, loud?”

  “Well, we do have to tear out most of the inside and knock out a wall so … ”

  “So yes?”

  “No more than any other construction.”

  “That’s the problem.” She says, turning to me. The sweet smile on her round face fades. “I’m all for progress but this is a library. It’s a place where people should have a little respite from the outside world. Call me a romantic, but I find it one of the cheapest and most limitless forms of escapism.”

  My chest clenches as she speaks, pulse quickening. I haven’t felt like this around a woman in a very long time—if ever? I want to reach out, pull her to me and tell her that everything will be fine. That she has nothing to worry about and it won’t be that disruptive to the daily flow of the Brooklyn Public Library.

  But that last part would be a lie.

  “All I can promise you, Mimi, is that it won’t last forever.” The last word lingers in my mouth. As someone in the business of renovation, the concept of forever is moot. Life and structure, it’s always changing. Her eyes flicker up to mine and the air leaves the room. Thank God my brain’s in charge, because I want to pull her to me, press my lips against hers and feel that soft, curvy body of hers tight against my body.

  Mimi sucks in the corner of her full bottom lip. Her body sways side to side with her hands behind her back. I don’t want this tour to end, and maybe I could use a little lunch myself. But I don’t get the chance to ask her. My phone rings in my back pocket, breaking the spell between us. The name on the screen is my next appointment, the one I’m already late for.

  “I’m sorry,” I say. “I have to take this.”

  Her red lips purse together. She gives her head a little shake. “Of course. I have a book I’m itching to get back to, anyway.” Her smile lights up the room and for a second I consider not answering.

  But I can’t do that. What would my client think? I can’t jeopardize the reputation I’ve worked so hard building.

  “It was nice meeting you,” I say.

  “Likewise,” Mimi turns around. Before I can stop myself I answer the call, but keep my eyes trained on the goddess slowly making her way back to the break room. It’s a good thing, too. Mimi casts one more glance at me over her shoulder, a stray hair dangling into her eye.

  My client is talking to me, but I’m not one-hundred percent present. How can I be? I will not rest until I’ve captured Mimi’s heart, and made her mine—there’s that word again—forever.

  3

  Mimi

  It always seems like a good idea, staying up all night to read a book that you can’t put down. That is, until it’s the next morning; you’re at work and it feels like someone’s socked you in both eyes. A rolling yawn escapes my mouth as I re-shelf the overnight bin returns. Thank God we can drink coffee while we work, another perk of being a librarian. Coffee and reading go hand in hand.

  I’d be lying if the only reason I stayed up all night was reading, though. My brain could not erase the memory of Raiden. His square shoulders, towering above me, the way he smells, the way his eyes bore hot lava holes in my soul, gave me spank-bank fuel to last a lifetime. And I can’t be sure, but I swear he’s packing some serious heat. When I looked down at his pants, his dick looked huge. It may have even been stiff?

  “Miss?” I nearly jump out of my skin. The book I’ve been holding in the air for who knows how long, tumbles from my hand and onto the floor. The voice belongs to a tiny old lady, who clasps her hand over her heart. Thankfully, it’s followed by a relieved laugh. “I’m sorry I startled you.”

  I let out a breath, heart racing. “It’s okay, what can I do for you?”

  “No one’s at the desk and I need to return this.” I squint at the book in her hands. It’s my turn to laugh, but I hold it in. The title: Sex at 50, 60, and Beyond. Gotta love her for that!

  “I can take it for you,” I say, my breathing finally returning to normal.

  “No, no.” Her gray hair bobs as she shakes her head. “I need a receipt. For proof that I returned it.” Native New Yorkers, in all five boroughs, are some of the quirkiest folks I’ve ever met.

  “Of course, follow me.” We talk about the weather on the way to the desk. Actually, she does most of the talking. I’ve gotten better at small talk, but the truth is that I hate it. I’d rather sit alone in a room forever than a room full of strangers for an hour. It’s just how I’m put together. I’m nodding along, listening about her new, loud neighbor when I notice something on the front desk. I brush a stray hair back from my face and pick up my pace. Not phased, the woman continues chatting.

  But I see them. Flowers at the circulation desk. Two of my co-workers are looking at me while the other one reads the card. My body’s on fire, burning with … what? Fear, anticipation, hope? It’s a pipe dream that those would be for me, but from the look on their faces, it appears they might be.

  “Well, well, well Miss Popular.” Keisha’s hands rest on her hips. The woman is still talking as I make my way around the desk. My other co-worker Andréa swivels in her chair and taps at the card in the middle of the bouquet.

  I can’t hide the smile threatening to explode all over my face. “No way!” I lean in and give the flowers a sniff. “These cannot be for me.”

  “They are!” Andréa squeals. “Who’s the secret admirer?”

  “Yeah, inquiring minds want to know.” Keisha empathizes each word with a clap in between them.

  “…And I told her that she can’t play her music that loud after ten o’clock. It’s the law!” The old woman rests her elbows on the circulation desk.

  “One second,” I say to my co-workers and print the sweet old lady a receipt. She thanks me, slips the receipt into her fanny pack and goes on her merry way. Once she rounds the corner, “That woman said nobody was up here. Where were you?”

  “Showing off your flowers,” Keisha says. “Now open the damn card.”

  “Yeah, open the thing.” Andréa echoes.

  I grunt, heat rising to my cheeks as I finally wiggle the envelope open. A strange thing happens when something you hope for comes to fruition. Especially if you don’t believe it’s actually possible, but there it is staring you smack dab in the face:

  Sorry I interrupted your lunch yesterday. Let me make up for it. Have a drink with me tonight?

  —RAIDEN

  “Raiden? Who the hell is Raiden?” Keisha says, reading over my shoulder. “Is that even a name?”

  I throw my head back and cover my mouth, card still in hand. This cannot actually be happening. Guys that look like him do not ask girls that look like me out to dinner. Or lunch. Or anywhere, really. They date skinny little hipster bitches with full social calendars and wear the same size I did when I was ten.

 

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