In His Eyes. Gail Gaymer MartinЧитать онлайн книгу.
message.
“Look,” she said, hoping to ease the uncomfortable moment. “Here are the keys to use the flippers and bumpers, and you use the space bar to shoot the ball.”
Caitlin giggled as Ellene’s ball skittered across the screen, bouncing into a worm hole and rattling against the bumpers. She gave the ball another whack, and it rebounded, sending her score upward.
“My turn!” Connor said, then chuckled at himself. “Could I try?”
She grinned at the childlike way he’d requested a chance to play, and she rose, allowing him to slip into the chair. He tested the keys, getting used to the flippers, before he began his turn. When he shot the first ball, he missed, and it vanished down the chute. No score.
He gave her a silly grin while his knee tapped as he pushed the space key that triggered the ball into the playing field.
Ellene forgot herself, watching him play the game and delighting in Caitlin’s amazement. But, noticing the clock hands, she realized too much time had slipped away. She’d let down her guard and had gotten caught up in Connor’s company. That wasn’t supposed to happen.
She touched Connor’s shoulder, aware of the muscles that rolled beneath her palm. “I need to get going, Connor. I have to break up your fun.”
He halted and dropped his hand from the keyboard. “Sorry. I got carried away.”
Caitlin slipped her arm around his shoulder. “Get us one, daddy,” she pleaded in his ear. “We can play games.”
“It keeps them busy,” Ellene said, seeing the excitement on Caitlin’s face.
Caitlin pressed her palms on Connor’s cheeks and turned his face to hers. “It keeps kids busy, Daddy.”
Ellene hid her grin.
Connor rose, and Ellene slipped back into the chair without comment.
Caitlin continued to watch her as she input the data. Ellene longed to get out of there and finish the job back in the office, but she feared she couldn’t read what she’d scribbled.
The aroma of ground meat drifted around her, and her stomach gnawed silently. She wished he’d let her leave before preparing their meal, but glancing at the time, she realized he had every right to get their dinner ready.
One notation confused her, and she stopped and reread the note. “Connor, we need to double check the porch.” She rose and headed for the doorway.
When she looked back, Connor had lowered the burner on the stove and turned to follow her. They stepped into the icy surroundings. Snowmobiles flew across the frozen channel, drawing her memory back to the large hunks of ice jamming against each other in the water as she crossed Lake St. Clair from the mainland.
She shivered, and Connor drew nearer, his arms rising, then lowering again as if he wanted to put them around her. “It’s too cold to be out here without a coat,” he said.
“It’ll only take a minute.” She hurried to the far side of the enclosure and pointed. “We want to begin the screened porch here.”
“Right.”
She handed him the end of the tape measure and backed up to the far wall. “Sixteen feet for the room’s length, then. I know it’s eleven and a half wide.” She drew in the tape as she returned to him. “What about this window over the sink? What did you decide?”
“You suggested leaving it as a window to pass food out for a picnic, and then you said you could block it with shelving on the inside.” He rubbed his temple as if the action would clear his memory. “I think that was it.”
“Which do you prefer? I like the opening.”
“Me, too, but what I’d really like is to get you inside.” He stepped behind her and grasped her arms, then shifted her around to face the doorway into the house. The heat from his nearness swept up her arms into her chest, and she felt his warm breath against her cheek.
Ellene longed to jerk from his grasp, but the feeling was too pleasant. Fighting her own longing, she eased away with her one-word reminder. “Business.”
Connor’s gaze lowered, and his smile faded. “It’s easy to forget.”
“Well, don’t, or you’ll have to find another contractor to handle this.” She winced. Once again, she could see her father’s face as he reprimanded her for not letting the past go and not handling the job like a professional.
Connor pushed open the outside door, and when they stepped in, Caitlin was sitting in the chair, staring at the computer.
Connor sucked in a gasp. “You didn’t touch anything, did you sweetheart?”
The child looked at him with a frown. “No.”
“Good,” he said, ignoring the look. He moved toward the fireplace and tossed a log onto the kindling, then struck a match.
Ellene watched mesmerized as the kindling burst into flames and licked upward toward the bark. The flicker lent a homey look to the large room.
When she turned, Caitlin scooted off the chair and let Ellene sit again to finish her work. She glanced at her watch. “I’m just about done.” She scrolled the document, then hit Save and closed the program.
The aroma from Connor’s dinner preparations blanketed her. This time her stomach gave a soft growl.
Caitlin tittered at the sound, then stepped back to let Ellene rise. “Are you going home?”
“I sure am. It’s late.”
Connor looked over his shoulder. “Why won’t you eat with us, Ellene? It’s almost ready. Goulash. Not gourmet but filling.”
“Eat with us,” Caitlin said, a whole different child than Ellene had met when she arrived.
“Sorry. I really must go.”
She closed the computer and snapped the lock, but as she reached for the handle, the side doorbell chimed. Before Connor answered it, the door swung open. An elderly woman in a navy pea jacket slipped inside, wearing boots that looked big enough to fit Connor. When she turned, Ellene recognized Connor’s aunt.
“Aunt Phyllis,” Connor said, stepping over to give her a hug. “Come in. You remember Ellene.”
The woman’s eyes widened in surprise. “The mind isn’t what it used to be, but I could never forget Ellene.” She grasped Ellene’s hand and gave it a squeeze. “How are you dear? It’s so good to see you.”
“I’m fine, and nice to see you,” Ellene said, surprised at the woman’s warm greeting.
Aunt Phyllis dragged snow across the room as she sought Caitlin and pulled her into an embrace.
“You’re too cold,” Caitlin said drawing back.
“It’s colder than the Arctic out there, and it’s starting to snow heavily again.”
Connor shifted to the fireplace, tossing on a smaller branch, then poked at the wood, sending sparks skittering up the flue.
Snow. Ellene had seen enough snow the past year to keep her happy for many white Christmases. “Then I’d better—”
“Did you just drop by for a visit?” Connor’s aunt asked.
“Not really. My father owns Bordini Construction, and I’m working up an estimate for a renovation project.”
Connor gave her a disappointed look, and Ellene realized he hadn’t shared the information with his aunt.
“Sorry,” she mouthed, trying to block the view from Aunt Phyllis. “He’s just thinking about it,” Ellene added, hoping to smooth her faux pas.
“I wanted to surprise you, Aunt Phyllis, once I knew it was a go. I know how disappointed you get when—”