Free Seaside Heartbeats: A Sweet Romance (The Seaside Hunters Book 2) by Stacy Claflin

anyone had any real question where his riches were from.
    "Find anything interesting?" Brayden asked, standing behind her. He rested his hand on her shoulder, and she loved the feel of him so close. Her stomach danced itself into knots.
    Lana leaned back, pressing her back against his chest. The smell of his aftershave surrounded her, and she took a deep breath. She wanted to turn around and plant her lips on his to find out if he tasted as good as he smelled. Everything about him was so…perfect. Lana wanted more. She wanted to be greedy and selfish.
    "Nothing interesting?" he whispered in her ear.
    Heat warmed Lana's face. "More than you know." She turned around and stared into his hazel eyes. They seemed to hold the same desire she felt, but he didn't move.
    Lana's gaze moved down toward his mouth. It looked so inviting… like it was made to be kissed. But she couldn't. She didn't want to ruin what they had. It was going so well, and it was too soon for a kiss. Besides, would he think she was too forward if she kissed him? He was from this small town, after all. Towns like this had a reputation for being behind the times.
    But he'd also spent his recent years in Dallas. She'd never been there, but wasn't it supposed to be a wild, loose place? All she really knew about the city was the football team and their infamous cheerleaders.
    She looked back up to his eyes. Was it her imagination, or had they grown darker as they stared at each other? Lana couldn't find her breath. She wanted to wrap her arms around him and kiss him right there in the favorite room of the town's founder who'd died under such circumstances that two hundred years later,still no one knew the events surrounding his death.
    How romantic would that be? Who had a story like that? Surrounded by all that history and mystery.
    Brayden cleared his throat. "Maybe we should look at some of those books."
    "Good idea." Lana bolted for the shelf farthest away. Her heart raced. These feelings for Brayden—they were out of control. They had barely just met, and today was the first time they'd spent any real time together. Maybe she was feeling more intense emotions because of her recent trip the ER.
    Though it had turned out not to be that big a deal, it had been frightening. Lana hadn't known why her heart raced so fast, and it felt like everything was closing up on her. She hadn't even been sure if she would make it through the night. Sure, she'd kept a brave face, not wanting to worry her parents, but it was a proverbial "life flashing before your eyes" event.
    Now she held everything in a different perspective. Playing with her nephews was more important than ever. Maybe finding love had become a new subconscious desire.
    It was all happening too fast, especially considering she couldn't recall the last real date she'd been on, much less when she'd actually felt anything for anyone.
    She picked up a random book, and turned around, leaning against the shelf. She opened it, pretending to look, but examined the periphery. Brayden had a stack of books next to him. He flipped through the one in his hands and then set it down, grabbing another one.
    Her heart fluttered. He was so gorgeous. It was no wonder her blood pressure reading was so far off when he took it the day they'd met in his clinic. She now had a heart condition, and he didn't help matters. Not with the way he made her feel.
    Brayden looked her way, and she looked down and flipped through the pages.

Eleven
     
    Brayden slid the books back into place on the shelf. He took long, slow deep breaths trying to calm himself. He was having such a good time with Lana, but he couldn't deal with his overpowering feelings toward her. Every second they spent together, the more intense his feelings grew.
    He felt like he'd been hit by a train. Not just any train, but a speeding locomotive carrying a heavy load. Sure, he'd been in love before. Who his age hadn't? But this—whatever it was—it couldn't be love.