Read Online 02_Groom of Her Own by Irene Hannon - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Irene Hannon
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too short, don’t you?” she said, embarrassed, misinterpreting the direction of his thoughts. “I suppose I’m not the type of woman a minister wants to be seen with. Listen, I understand. The friendship offer was probably made in haste, and—”
“Sam.” Brad cut her off.
She stared at him, her eyes wide, taken aback by the touch of anger in his voice.
Brad frowned, aware that he sounded angry. And he was. At himself. For some reason she’d felt disapproval in his gaze. Which had been the last thing on his mind as he’d gazed at their entwined hands.
“I’m sorry,” she said contritely. “I didn’t—”
“Sam,” he repeated, more gently this time, reaching for her hand again. “I was not going to comment on your skirt.”
“No?” She looked uncertain, and Brad wanted to pull her into his arms and just hold her. The impulse took him off guard. What was the matter with him all of a sudden? he wondered. He wasn’t a man usually given to such inappropriate thoughts. So, using a self-restraint that required a surprising amount of effort, he kept his distance. But he also kept a firm grip on her hand.
“No,” he repeated firmly. “I’ll admit I noticed your skirt,” he said frankly, deciding honesty was the best policy. “Or rather, what your skirt reveals—a pair of absolutely fabulous legs. I doubt whether any man still breathing could overlook them. And I hope you don’t think that’s some sort of insulting sexist remark. My intent is to flatter, not criticize or demean.”
“Really?” she asked, wanting to believe his words but finding it difficult.
“Really,” he assured her. “I may be a minister, but I’m also a man. And I’m proud to be seen with you—because of who you are, as well as how you look.”
Sam stared at him. She couldn’t doubt the sincerity in his eyes. “Then what were you going to say before?” she asked with a frown.
Brad’s mind went into warp drive. “I think we should stop on the way home and get something to eat,” he said with sudden inspiration. “My appointment ran late, and I haven’t had dinner. Are you hungry?”
“As a matter of fact, yes,” she said, surprised to find that she was suddenly ravenous.
“Good. I know just the spot.”
Twenty minutes later they were seated in a small café not far from Sam’s condo. Classical music played softly in the background, and the atmosphere was cozy and intimate.
“This is charming, Brad!” Sam said, glancing around approvingly. “I never even knew it was here.”
“I wasn’t sure you’d like it,” he admitted. “It’s pretty quiet.”
“Well, I’ve had my fill of crowded, noisy, smoky bars, thank you,” she said wryly. “This is perfect.”
During the light meal, they discussed the concert, and when the waitress came to offer dessert, Brad looked at Sam inquiringly. “Are you in the mood to indulge?”
“Why not?” she said, wanting to prolong the evening. It had been a long time since she’d enjoyed herself so much in a man’s company, and she hated it to end.
“Well, I can highly recommend tonight’s special dessert,” the waitress said. “Apple cobbler. It’s a new recipe the chef’s just trying out, and it’s a winner.”
“Sounds good to me,” Sam said with a smile.
“How about you, sir?” the woman asked, turning to Brad.
He hesitated, and Sam looked at him curiously. He was frowning, but when he realized she was watching him, his face cleared and he seconded the order.
“Don’t you like apple cobbler?” Sam asked curiously after the waitress departed.
“Yes…I do,” he replied. “It’s just that, well, Rachel made a wonderful apple cobbler. She was a great cook. It took me back for a minute, that’s all.”
“Oh.” Sam looked down and stirred her coffee. Was there anything his wife couldn’t do, she thought in despair? No wonder he still loved her. She sounded perfect.
Brad heard the woebegone tone in Sam’s voice, even if she was
“Sam.” Brad cut her off.
She stared at him, her eyes wide, taken aback by the touch of anger in his voice.
Brad frowned, aware that he sounded angry. And he was. At himself. For some reason she’d felt disapproval in his gaze. Which had been the last thing on his mind as he’d gazed at their entwined hands.
“I’m sorry,” she said contritely. “I didn’t—”
“Sam,” he repeated, more gently this time, reaching for her hand again. “I was not going to comment on your skirt.”
“No?” She looked uncertain, and Brad wanted to pull her into his arms and just hold her. The impulse took him off guard. What was the matter with him all of a sudden? he wondered. He wasn’t a man usually given to such inappropriate thoughts. So, using a self-restraint that required a surprising amount of effort, he kept his distance. But he also kept a firm grip on her hand.
“No,” he repeated firmly. “I’ll admit I noticed your skirt,” he said frankly, deciding honesty was the best policy. “Or rather, what your skirt reveals—a pair of absolutely fabulous legs. I doubt whether any man still breathing could overlook them. And I hope you don’t think that’s some sort of insulting sexist remark. My intent is to flatter, not criticize or demean.”
“Really?” she asked, wanting to believe his words but finding it difficult.
“Really,” he assured her. “I may be a minister, but I’m also a man. And I’m proud to be seen with you—because of who you are, as well as how you look.”
Sam stared at him. She couldn’t doubt the sincerity in his eyes. “Then what were you going to say before?” she asked with a frown.
Brad’s mind went into warp drive. “I think we should stop on the way home and get something to eat,” he said with sudden inspiration. “My appointment ran late, and I haven’t had dinner. Are you hungry?”
“As a matter of fact, yes,” she said, surprised to find that she was suddenly ravenous.
“Good. I know just the spot.”
Twenty minutes later they were seated in a small café not far from Sam’s condo. Classical music played softly in the background, and the atmosphere was cozy and intimate.
“This is charming, Brad!” Sam said, glancing around approvingly. “I never even knew it was here.”
“I wasn’t sure you’d like it,” he admitted. “It’s pretty quiet.”
“Well, I’ve had my fill of crowded, noisy, smoky bars, thank you,” she said wryly. “This is perfect.”
During the light meal, they discussed the concert, and when the waitress came to offer dessert, Brad looked at Sam inquiringly. “Are you in the mood to indulge?”
“Why not?” she said, wanting to prolong the evening. It had been a long time since she’d enjoyed herself so much in a man’s company, and she hated it to end.
“Well, I can highly recommend tonight’s special dessert,” the waitress said. “Apple cobbler. It’s a new recipe the chef’s just trying out, and it’s a winner.”
“Sounds good to me,” Sam said with a smile.
“How about you, sir?” the woman asked, turning to Brad.
He hesitated, and Sam looked at him curiously. He was frowning, but when he realized she was watching him, his face cleared and he seconded the order.
“Don’t you like apple cobbler?” Sam asked curiously after the waitress departed.
“Yes…I do,” he replied. “It’s just that, well, Rachel made a wonderful apple cobbler. She was a great cook. It took me back for a minute, that’s all.”
“Oh.” Sam looked down and stirred her coffee. Was there anything his wife couldn’t do, she thought in despair? No wonder he still loved her. She sounded perfect.
Brad heard the woebegone tone in Sam’s voice, even if she was
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