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So Many Men.... Dorie GrahamЧитать онлайн книгу.

So Many Men... - Dorie Graham


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      “Rafe has had a difficult time, like so many of these kids. They each have a story—some born addicted to crack, some who’ve lost a parent to an overdose, some with HIV-infected parents, more times than not from needles they found in the trash.” He shook his head. “It’s hard to believe they don’t know better. It’s a pity to see people unable to care, especially with kids like Rafe counting on them.”

      “I can’t even imagine.”

      Memories of his own childhood flashed through Mason’s mind: the morning his mother took off without saying goodbye; his father drinking himself to death shortly afterward; being passed from uncle to uncle until he emancipated himself at sixteen. “Well, I never had it as hard as Rafe, but I can imagine.”

      Her gaze softened, and for a moment warmth seemed to flow from her, blanketing him in a sense of well-being. Unbidden, his feet moved him a step closer to her.

      “So, you arrange activities for these kids to keep them off the streets?”

      “That’s part of it. We have regular workshops to educate them on drug abuse, HIV and other issues that affect them. Try to counsel them on school and careers and help them get jobs in the interim.”

      “Are most of them teens like that guy?” A breeze swept up behind her, bringing a whiff of her perfume.

      His gaze fell to the fullness of her lips. Her scent teased him and he struggled to focus on their conversation. “We get them in all shapes and sizes. The teens are the ones we worry about the most, though. They’re the most damaged. You can see it in the way they’re closed off, distrustful of everything and everybody. Usually they’re so close to falling off the edge, we’re lucky to get any response from them.”

      “That’s so…sad.”

      Something in her eyes pulled him in, held him spellbound for a moment, until he blinked and detached himself, inhaling a deep breath to clear his head. “Occasionally we get some of the more fortunate ones, latchkey kids being raised by single parents struggling with poverty and stressful lives. That’s all part of the problem.

      “Right now we’re tapping all our resources to help the kids, but then we send them home to their parents, who are still saddled with all their issues. They can undo our efforts in the space of a day. If we can get this center going, we’re hoping to start some new programs for parents and families as well.”

      Again she nodded, her forehead furrowed in thought. “And you think one big fund-raiser will be enough?”

      “To be totally honest, I’d like this one event to help get us up and running. Then we’ll need something similar at least annually to keep the center operating.”

      Her cell phone chimed again and she excused herself to answer it. “Josh, I’m so sorry I missed you… Can we do Sunday?… Great… Okay, I’m with someone, I have to go… See you then.” After putting her phone away, she smiled at Mason. “I’m so sorry. Have you looked into getting grants and foundation money?”

      “We’re working on that, and hopefully our efforts will pay off. It’s not a quick process, though.”

      “I’m sure.” She remained silent a long moment and he waited as she paced around the area in front of the fountain.

      Indulging himself, he drank his fill of the sight of her while she lost herself in thought. She was of medium height and weight, not too busty, not too flat. Hips that flared nicely and a decent ass. An average description for an extraordinary woman. What was it about her that made her so…appealing? It was more her presence—no, her essence—that drew him.

      Just when he thought he could stand the silence no more, she stopped in front of him. “So,” he couldn’t keep from asking, “will you help us—help me?”

      Her blue gaze locked with his and time seemed to suspend as something—a soul-deep recognition—settled over him. “Yes, Mason, I will rally the DCWC to help you. If they fail me, then I’ll call on my own resources and do it myself.”

      A mixture of relief and excitement filled him. He pressed her hands in his. “Thank you, Tess. This means so much to me. I can’t tell you how much I appreciate your support.”

      “I’m happy to help.”

      Tess cocked her head. Until this moment she hadn’t been sure she was ready for another lover so soon—had thought she needed a little break—but she couldn’t deny the proof standing before her. She could feel all that he felt, his gratitude, his excitement and, below that, growing stronger with their hands joined, the same heat sweeping through her. Something was different—she couldn’t put her finger on exactly what. Certainly it was much more intense this time.

      Still, this was how it always began.

      This empathic rush was nothing new. She always knew what her guys felt. Not until recently, when Aunt Sophie had told her and her sisters about their gift, had Tess understood that her ability to feel others’ emotions was part and parcel of her family heritage. Where Nikki had been able to tune into anyone around her, Tess’s empathic nature worked only with her men.

      Desire flowed off Mason in waves. There was no use in fighting it. His need, his pain, already called to her, buried deep inside him. She could no more turn away from him than she could stop breathing. She was a healer.

      She would help him in so many more ways than he realized. First, though, she needed time with him, time to get to know him and gauge what troubles he harbored. She let her gaze travel up his arms and chest, over his strong features to his compelling eyes. Had she at first thought him nondescript?

      No, this man had eyes that saw into the depths of her soul. A shiver passed through her. What could she deny him when he looked at her that way?

      “So, how do you feel about coffee?” he asked. “I have some time before my afternoon appointments. Unless you need to be somewhere?”

      “No, the nursery’s covered. Coffee sounds great, though I can’t stay too long. I like to be there when the shipment comes.” She turned with him to head across the park to a nearby coffee shop.

      “You work at a nursery?”

      “Actually, I own it. I always liked plants and I have a green thumb. It made sense to buy the nursery when one of my great-aunts left me a small inheritance.”

      “Do you sell anything besides trees and flowers?” His lips curved into a smile.

      She was going to enjoy kissing him.

      “I have a nice assortment of stone statuary. And my sister is an interior designer so I am always special-ordering her something. Believe me, I can get you practically anything you want.”

      His eyebrows arched. His gaze dropped to her mouth and the desire simmering in him flared. “Anything?”

      “That’s right.” She stopped walking and faced him. “Anything.”

      Heat arced between them. The intensity in his eyes held her breathless. She leaned toward him as he moved forward. A bird cawed overhead and suddenly he pulled away.

      “You don’t say?” he said, falling back into step. “I’ll have to come by and see what you have. I’ve been meaning to do something with my front entrance, but haven’t gotten around to it.”

      “I’m sure we can find something.” She frowned as they crossed a small stretch of parking lot. Evidently, the man needed a little coaxing. “Maybe I should come see your front entrance sometime, so I can have a better idea of what you might need.”

      “Sure.” He smiled again, and his pleasure, though guarded, reached out to her. “I think I’d like to have you over.”

      She threaded her arm through his and they entered the shop. The aroma of strong coffee drifted in the air. “It smells heavenly in here.”

      They ordered their drinks and Tess pulled her wallet from her bag.


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