After Hello Read Online Free PDF

“I’ll be back in thirty minutes.”
    “We’ll be gone in twenty-nine,” Sam said, a weariness in his voice that he hated to hear.
    Paul didn’t even turn around. “Be gone in two.” Then he stepped into the elevator and was gone.
    Silence filled the hallway again for a beat or two. Sam shifted his weight, feeling the familiar demand for movement building in his bones. Paul was right; they should be gone sooner rather than later. He reached for the book in Sara’s hand. “You don’t have to do this, you know. We can just leave the book by the door.”
    Sara blinked as though waking up from a dream. “I know.” She pulled the book close to her chest.
    “Let me put it another way: I don’t think you should do this.”
    “I know that too.” Sara hefted the book in her hands, eyeing the closed door at the end of the hallway.
    He sighed. He knew that look. He’d seen it on his own reflection more than once. “You’re going to do it anyway, aren’t you?”
    Shrugging, she cocked her hip out to one side. “If delivering the book keeps your brother out of trouble, then I don’t really see what the problem is. It’s like Paul said—in and out. Two minutes flat.”
    “Paul isn’t always right.”
    “Is he right about this?”
    Sam’s lips thinned. His silence was his answer.
    Sara took a step toward the door.
    “Wait,” Sam said, catching her elbow. “If you’re going to go through with this, you might as well look the part.”
    Sam’s eyes touched Sara at shoulder, wrist, hip, but softly. A glance. A brush.
    Sara looked down at her clothes. “T-shirt and jeans. I know. Really original. But give me a break. I’m on vacation. I didn’t exactly plan on this.”
    Sam shook his head. “You look—” The glance moved over her again, but on the opposite side—shoulder, wrist, hip—crisscrossing her body. A swallow moved down his throat.
    He gently slid her camera off her wrist and looped the strap around his own. He plucked the sunglasses off her head. A wisp of brownish-blonde hair curled up and away and, without thinking, he smoothed it down by her ear and allowed the edge of his thumb to graze the edge of her cheek.
    She glanced up at him in surprise, and he dropped his hand from her face, fumbling at his bag as though nothing was wrong. Instinct screamed at him to step back, to leave, to move.
    “I think . . . ah, yes.” His fingers found what he was looking for at the bottom of the bag, and he withdrew a small golden rectangle with a pin clasp on one side and the name “Sam” printed in black letters on the other.
    He held out the name tag for her on his open palm. A gentleman might have offered to pin it to her shirt, but he didn’t dare get too close. Not again.
    “Do I want to know why you’re carrying around a spare name tag?” she asked, tucking the book under her arm and plucking the gold bar from his hand. “I thought you freelanced.”
    “I do. But you never know when a bit of official-looking identification will come in handy.”
    “Like today?” She pinched the front of her shirt between her fingers and fastened the name tag just below her collarbone.
    “Like today,” he agreed, taking a step back and leaning against one of the tables lining the wall.
    “Sam,” she said, her tone thoughtful and careful.
    He looked up, anticipating a question, then realized she was merely reading the name off the tag.
    “Short for Samantha?” he suggested.
    She tilted her head, considering, then nodded. “Samantha. And I work at . . .” She flipped the book back into her hands and read the name printed on the sticker holding the wrapping closed. “Chasing Pages.”
    “New York’s finest bookstore,” Sam added. “With New York’s finest employees.”
    She looked up at him, her eyes meeting his, then shifting away.
    He bit back a curse. He’d made her uncomfortable. He hadn’t meant to do that. But, on the plus side, that warm hint of color had returned to her cheeks, and