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Worth The Wait. Lori FosterЧитать онлайн книгу.

Worth The Wait - Lori Foster


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started to shake.

      “Morning,” Hogan rumbled.

      “Good morning.” Trying for sarcasm, she asked, “Comfortable?”

      “Not really. Your couch is too short.” He stretched again and sat up with a wide yawn.

      Unmoving, Violet watched him scratch his belly, and she said with accusation, “You stayed over.”

      “Yeah.” After running both hands through his mussed hair, he checked the time on his phone. Giving her another long look, he patted the seat beside him, no doubt still warm from his body. “Sit before you fall.”

      She didn’t want to, but her body wasn’t giving her much choice. She stepped around the table and dropped at the far end of the couch, which wasn’t all that far.

      Scooting closer to her, he touched his palm to her forehead. “Still feverish. You need more medicine?”

      “I just took it. That’s how I found you.”

      “Gotcha.” He frowned at her hair, deftly removed the band to free it and smoothed it down, massaging her scalp in the process.

      Heaven.

      He stole his magic fingers away. “Are you a coffee person or a juice person?”

      “I’m not a baby.”

      With a short laugh, he agreed, “Definitely not.”

      She started to say she could get her own coffee, but she truly didn’t feel like it. Putting her head back and closing her eyes, she said, “Maybe both?”

      “Juice now, coffee when it’s ready?”

      She nodded, her eyes still closed.

      “You can thank me, Violet.”

      “Thank you.”

      His fingers skimmed her cheek and she heard the smile in his voice when he said, “Be right back.”

      Somehow in the time it took him to pour orange juice into a glass, she’d fallen asleep. She opened her eyes to see the juice on the end table beside her. In the kitchen, the coffeemaker spit and hissed.

      Down the hall, a toilet flushed, water ran and Hogan emerged, his jeans now fastened, his shirt still off, his feet still bare.

      Damn, he looked good like that.

      He also looked good in her house.

      “Sleep if you want,” he said as he passed her. “It’s the best thing for you.”

      She drank half the juice and nodded off again.

      Hogan’s voice, talking quietly on the phone, awoke her the second time. She saw that sunshine now flooded her front windows. More sluggish than she ever could have imagined, she sat up and tried to gather her wits.

      She focused on Hogan in the kitchen, fully dressed, his hair less messy but with whiskers still on his face.

      “I can probably take Violet’s car this morning, but I don’t want to leave my bike in the parking lot.” After waiting for a reply, Hogan said, “Yeah, that’d work. Appreciate it.”

      Who said he could take her car? Take it where?

      “No, she won’t make it in today. Damned pneumonia has really leveled her.” As he softly spoke, Hogan turned to face her, then smiled at seeing her awake. Holding her gaze, he nodded, saying, “Yeah, I’ll figure it out. Thanks again.” He pocketed the phone and moved out of sight.

      “I’m going into work,” she told him, but raising her voice put her into a coughing fit.

      He appeared with the coffee. “I reheated it.”

      Grudgingly, she accepted. Because he’d worked with her for a few weeks now, he knew she liked cream and sugar and the coffee was perfect, even better than the juice. “Thank you.”

      He surveyed her. “Are you hungry?”

      “No.” More than anything, she wanted to sleep. More and more sleep. She tried for a slow breath and managed to do it without coughing too much. “I’m sorry I keep conking out.”

      “I’m glad you did.” He frowned, then sat beside her. “You can’t go into work. You’re an intelligent woman and you know it, but you’re also stubborn. Put the stubbornness aside for now, okay?”

      “I have to go in. It’s mine and—”

      “I can handle it. I have the weekend free and I know what I’m doing.”

      “What, no hot date?” Hogan always had hot dates on the weekends, and sometimes during the week—at least until recently. “What about what’s-her-name? That kid.”

      The corner of his mouth curled. “Emma? She was twenty-five, not a kid—”

      “Ten years your junior!”

      “—and I only saw her once.”

      “I guess with you, once is enough?”

      He cocked a brow. “Are you always this nasty in the mornings?”

      “Yes,” she lied. God, she felt so awful, she wanted to curl up and sleep until she felt normal again. “Go away, okay?”

      “I haven’t had a date since I started working for you.”

      No, she didn’t want to hear that! That would mean he’d been dateless for weeks. “Poor baby, am I using up all your free time?”

      Shrugging a shoulder, he grinned. “I could go out during the week, I guess. In fact, Friday, before I left the office, my boss hit on me.”

      Violet stared at him, scowled and guzzled the rest of her coffee. I don’t want to picture you with another woman. Of course, it was already too late.

      Glaring, she asked, “When are the two of you getting together?”

      His gaze went to her mouth. “Never.” Gently, he took the coffee cup from her and set it aside.

      “I take it she’s homely? Not built to your specifications?”

      “She’s attractive enough. Big boobs.”

      Trying for mock surprise, Violet said, “And you turned her down?”

      “Let’s say I redirected her attention.”

      “Redirected it how?”

      “To a coworker who looked interested.”

      “Oh my God, you’re bragging about passing her off to someone else?”

      “Redirecting her,” he emphasized. “It’s not like she was looking to get married.”

      “Because that would have really sent you running!” Good God, just shut up, Violet.

      After a long look, he picked up the cup and stood. He was halfway to the kitchen when he stopped. Keeping his back to her, he said, “Obviously you know I was married once.”

      Violet’s heart started to pound. “Yes.” And she was sorry she’d brought it up.

      He looked back over his shoulder at her. “Marriage doesn’t scare me. But cheating, lying women do.”

      * * *

      Why the hell had he opened his mouth? So she’d been needling him. So what. Nothing new in that, not with Violet. The woman lived to give him a hard time.

      Hours had passed since he’d left her sleeping on her sofa, and still he wanted to chew nails. Colt rapped at the back door of the diner and Hogan let him in.

      “Uncle Jason said you were here. I was going to work with him today but he said you might need me instead.”

      “Yeah.” Hogan rubbed the back of his neck. “I rearranged the schedule for Violet since she’s


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