A Perfect Homecoming. Lisa DysonЧитать онлайн книгу.
She drew her hand back when she realized the same was true for herself.
He grabbed her hand and jerked her close, his eyes fixed on hers. She couldn’t pull her gaze away, no matter how much she tried.
His body was solid and unyielding, as was his expression. He was furious. She placed a hand on his chest and he swore. His mouth was hot and rough when it captured hers. Her eyes closed and her world tilted.
Their issues were put on hold. No hurt, no betrayal, no misunderstandings.
Only lust. Pure, unadulterated lust.
She’d spent the past two years avoiding thoughts of them together like this and now the heat was spreading through her body like a spark to kindling.
If she stopped to dwell on all she’d lost, there would have been pain. Indescribable agony. Now here she was, rediscovering the magic between them, reviving the sexual claim they had on each other with no thought about where this was headed or what the consequences might be.
No thought whatsoever.
Her arms encircled his waist and her splayed hands moved upward, recognizing his solid back muscles by touch alone. Her fingers moved then, to the deep ridge in his lower back where his firm backside began. All the while, his mouth was doing delicious things to hers, as if the past few years hadn’t happened.
Perhaps they had a chance at civility after all.
Kyle drew away abruptly, taking a step backward. They stood a foot or more apart. A sudden chill enveloped her.
“Sorry.” His tone was gruff as he ran a hand through his hair. “That shouldn’t have happened.”
He turned his back to her, missing her hand fly up to cover her silent, openmouthed gasp.
He retrieved his keys from the curb where they must have fallen when he grabbed her. Then he continued with purpose around the truck to the driver’s side.
His door was halfway open when she said, “Kyle?”
He stopped, his expression unreadable in the darkness.
Her heart sank. Not only had she gotten the wrong message from his kiss, but now things between them had definitely gotten more complicated.
If that was even possible.
“Never mind,” she whispered.
CHAPTER FOUR
PAULA HAD BEEN in and out of bed all night. Why couldn’t OBs understand that complete bed rest was virtually impossible when your pregnancy bladder acted like an alarm clock? Of course, every time she got out of bed and moved around it woke Bam-Bam, who was instantly ready to shake, rattle and roll.
Nothing like a kick in the ribs to keep you awake.
She finally gave up and decided to read for a while, but she must have fallen asleep because a knock on her bedroom door startled her awake.
“Come in.” Daylight peeked through the front window where the curtains met and the book she’d been reading lay across her chest. She searched the covers for her bookmark and set the book next to her.
Ashleigh entered, carrying a tray that, from the delicious smell, must be breakfast.
“Good morning.” Ashleigh’s words sounded more cheerful than her expression conveyed. “I hope you still like eggs on a raft. I came to ask you before I started cooking, but you were asleep.”
“I haven’t had that in years!” Paula’s ho-hum attitude changed slightly for the better. “The boys like scrambled eggs, so that’s what I usually fix.”
Ashleigh set the tray down. Along with the poached eggs on toast were hot tea, orange juice and blueberry yogurt. Perfect, just like Ashleigh.
“You didn’t have to go to so much trouble.” Paula pushed aside her mental insults because she couldn’t wait to dig in. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.” Ashleigh helped Paula get the tray settled and glanced around the bedroom. “Is there anything else you need? The boys are finishing breakfast and I started a load of laundry.”
Paula swallowed her first mouthful of food and shook her head. “No, this is wonderful.” She cut off another bite of toast and ran it through the perfectly done yolk. “Grandma used to make this for us.”
Ashleigh’s eyebrows rose. “I remember.”
She probably hadn’t expected Paula to solicit a conversation, but what the heck. They needed to start somewhere. This pregnancy still had several weeks to go.
“Remember that day she spent so much time teaching us how to crack eggs without breaking the yolk?” Ashleigh’s hint of a smile at the memory seemed genuine.
“And the number of eggs we wasted!” Paula took a sip of tea and it sloshed close to the edge of the mug when she unexpectedly chuckled. “We must have gone through close to two dozen and there was more shell than egg in the bowl.”
“Then Grandpa came into the kitchen, asking what all the racket was about.” Ashleigh’s lips curved into a smile. “And we were astonished when he demonstrated his perfect, one-handed crack of an egg. That day he became my hero.”
Paula sobered, recalling her deceased grandparents’ loving relationship. “I remember the way he always looked at Grandma and I used to think, ‘That’s how I want my husband to look at me.’ I was about eight or nine at the time.”
“That’s exactly what you’ve got,” Ashleigh reminded her in a quiet voice.
“I know. We both have men like that.” The words escaped Paula’s mouth before she realized what she was saying. “I didn’t mean—”
Ashleigh stiffened, crossed her arms over her chest and turned toward the bedroom door. She did an immediate one-eighty. “I need to say something.”
Paula had an apology ready on her lips, but instead she waited for Ashleigh to continue before making things worse.
“I know it’s awkward having me around but I’m not leaving.” Ashleigh kept her eyes averted. “I’m here for the duration.”
That was the last thing Paula expected Ashleigh to say. “Where did that come from?”
Ashleigh’s lips quivered as she spoke. “Kyle and I—” She cleared her throat. “We talked last night. He wants me to go back to Richmond. That way there would be less stress on you.”
Paula couldn’t believe her ears. She hadn’t wanted Ashleigh here in the first place, but she’d known it was for the best. Not because she and the boys needed someone they could count on, but because she and Ashleigh needed to work things out.
“Kyle said that?” Paula’s words came out harsher than she’d intended. “You know, I’m getting pretty sick and tired of everyone making decisions for me without even consulting me.”
“He just wants what’s best for you—we both do,” Ashleigh said.
“We?” Paula spoke sharply, her temper flaring. “Since when are you and Kyle we?” She could feel herself becoming irrational, but it ticked her off that everyone was ganging up on her.
“Paula—”
“I don’t want to hear any more.” She’d lost her appetite and shoved the food tray to the other side of the bed.
Paula didn’t want anyone’s help. She wanted to manage on her own like she always did.
The mix of emotions flowing through her was enough to make her want to bawl her eyes out. But she’d be damned if she’d give Ashleigh the satisfaction of knowing she’d upset her.
“You really should eat.”
Paula stared at Ashleigh until