What He Shields (What He Wants Book Seventeen) Read Online Free PDF Page A

we
made our way through the displays to the floor-to-ceiling rows of fiction.
    I shook my head.   “No.”   It made me sad, thinking about how close
this place had been, and how I’d never taken the time to enjoy it.   I made a vow to get out and enjoy New
York more, no matter how crazy things got with the school and the wedding and
our new case.
    We reached the mystery and thriller section,
and I ran my hands over the smooth spines of the books, that familiar
excitement growing inside of me.   Books.   I remembered what it
had been like when I was younger, the trips to the bookstore my mom would take
me on every Sunday.   She had failed
me as a mother in a lot of ways, but one of the things she had given me was a
love of books.   She’d let me read
everything and anything, and because of that, my tastes were eclectic.  
      “Make
a list,” Noah said.   “Pick your
favorites.   As
many as you want.   We’ll put
them on a website, people can buy them from their independents, and we’ll have
them shipped to the reception.”
    “We will?”
    “Yes,” he said, like it was the easiest thing
in the world.   “We’ll put together a
tower of books.   We can supplement
it with ones we buy ourselves, and then before we leave for our honeymoon, we
can deliver them to the places of your choice.”
    I smiled and couldn’t help but clap my
hands.   I threw my arms around him,
burying my face in his neck, and I felt like maybe he was blushing just a little
bit.
    “It’s not that big of a deal, Charlotte,” he
said sheepishly.   “But I am happy to
have pleased you.”   Noah’s phone
rang then, and he pulled it out and looked at it.   “I have to take this,” he said.  
    I raised my eyebrows at him, questioning.
    “It’s not about Lilah.” He offered no further
information, instead disappearing back toward the front of the store, his tone
annoyed as he barked instructions to whoever had just called him.
    I pulled out my own phone and started making a
list in the notes section, tapping out authors and titles. There were so many books
I wanted to register for already, and I hadn’t even made my way to the romance
section.
    It was a few moments later when I heard two
girls talking through the stacks.
    “That was Noah Cutler,” one of them said.
    “Holy shit, he is smokin’ ,” the other
one said.   “Even hotter than his
pictures.”
    “Gorgeous and rich,” the other one said
wistfully.   “How come I never meet
men like that?”
    Because he loves me, I thought to myself, looking down at my engagement ring which was so bright it sparkled even under the
dim industrial track lighting of the bookstore.
    I sighed and allowed myself a moment of
happiness, then crouched down and began adding more titles to my list.  
    I’d moved to romance and was wondering if it
would be inappropriate to add some erotic romance when my phone buzzed in my
hand.  
    A text.
    From John.
    “Hi, Charlotte – thank you for speaking
with me today, and I am sorry if I scared you.   Would you be willing to meet me tonight
at my apartment?   Six o’clock?   I can explain everything then.”  
    He’d followed it up with the address of an
apartment high on the west side – past the neighborhoods known for being
liberal and earthy crunchy, past Morningside Heights and deep into Harlem.   I swallowed around the lump in my
throat.  
    I was going to have to tell Noah.   Right away.   As soon as we left the
bookstore.
    I should have told him before, but with
everything going on with Lilah, there hadn’t been a good time.
    It’s not keeping a secret, I told myself.   It’s just a delay.
      I
heard the sound of Noah’s footsteps echoing across the wood floors of the
bookstore before I saw him.
    “Charlotte,” he said.
    “Hi,” I said, shoving my phone quickly back
into my bag and standing up, the newest J. Kenner book in my hand.   “Do you think it would be wildly
inappropriate to be displaying sexy