Read Online A Dream to Cling To by Sally Goldenbaum - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Sally Goldenbaum
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hand through the air with a flourish. “You were, in a word, mag-ni-fi-cent!”
“Oh, Sam, hush. Such drama. Were you ever on the stage?”
“Always.”
She laughed, and he laughed, and together the sound sparked the air until Brittany felt it beneath her skin and running through her veins.
“Now, fair maiden, what kind of gourmet masterpiece would delight you?”
“Hmmm, let me think.”
When he pulled up to a stoplight, Sam looked over and noticed that she had closed her eyes. Her gold-tipped lashes rested so quietly on her skin, she could have been asleep. Waves of bronze hair tumbled loosely onto her brilliant blue turtleneck. Her breasts rose and fell rhythmically beneath the soft fabric. His breath caught. She was so damn lovely and vulnerable-looking. He’d had to fight his baser instincts for days now, and wondered if it would get easier. He doubted it.
With his eyes he traced the delicate curve of her cheekbones and the dusting of freckles across her nose. They were so temptingly sweet, he had a sudden urge to kiss each one. The thought brought a slow smile to his face and he shifted involuntarily in the seat. Ah, Brittany, he thought. Trusting, beautiful Brittany. What in the name of all that’s right in the universe was she doing to him?
That same sudden shift in emotions that had been ailing him for several days came back in full force and caused a tightening between his eyebrows and a flash of warning in his head. He couldn’t quite put words to the feeling, but it was Brittany—all Brittany—of that he was more than sure. It had been almost instant, the attraction he felt for her, and it burned inside of himnow. He felt her presence in the darnedest places. It was Brittany he saw in the glassy surface of the river when he ran along its edge early in the morning; and it was a copper-haired beauty with a smile as fresh as daffodils who ruffled his thoughts when he considered the next few months of his life. He had no right or reason to put her there in the middle of his mind like that.
Except there she was. Brittany Ellsbeth Winters, her eyes bright, her voice edged with laughter. And the mere tilt of her head and flip of that mass of fiery-edged hair lit his desires to rival an Independence Day display.
The harsh blare of a horn behind him brought Sam’s attention back to the road, but the nagging feeling remained, a relentless reminder that Brittany Winters was different, and that a friendly, amicable affair was not a part of her vocabulary. Nor should it ever be.
He switched on the radio. Easy strains of a symphony filled the car and smoothed out his thoughts until he felt comfortable and easy again.
It was Brittany who broke the silence several miles later. Sitting up straight, she looked out at the passing houses and small stores, the people on foot hurrying home from bus stops. “Sam, where are we? I’ve never seen this part of Windemere before.” She craned her neck to glimpse a street sign in the fading light, but it only told her she was in the northeast section of town.
“What?” Sam seemed pulled from a daze. He looked around, then sucked in a long, deliberate breath. Only after a minute had passed did he allow a half smile to ease the tightness of his mouth.
The houses lining the road were as familiar to him as the back of his hand. So were the shady streets, the people hunched against the cold as they walked, and the kids in worn jeans doing wheelies on their bikes. Why had he come back here? He shook his head slowly.
“We’re in Shadyside, Brittany. It’s a small little cocoonthat’s officially a part of Windemere but never claims that aloud. Memorial Cemetery and the Blue River separate it from the city, and Shadyside folks like that just fine.”
“Shadyside … Of course. I’ve heard of it and knew it was up here somewhere. I guess I just never had occasion to come this way.”
“No, probably not.” He turned a corner and slowly drove down a shaded, quiet
“Oh, Sam, hush. Such drama. Were you ever on the stage?”
“Always.”
She laughed, and he laughed, and together the sound sparked the air until Brittany felt it beneath her skin and running through her veins.
“Now, fair maiden, what kind of gourmet masterpiece would delight you?”
“Hmmm, let me think.”
When he pulled up to a stoplight, Sam looked over and noticed that she had closed her eyes. Her gold-tipped lashes rested so quietly on her skin, she could have been asleep. Waves of bronze hair tumbled loosely onto her brilliant blue turtleneck. Her breasts rose and fell rhythmically beneath the soft fabric. His breath caught. She was so damn lovely and vulnerable-looking. He’d had to fight his baser instincts for days now, and wondered if it would get easier. He doubted it.
With his eyes he traced the delicate curve of her cheekbones and the dusting of freckles across her nose. They were so temptingly sweet, he had a sudden urge to kiss each one. The thought brought a slow smile to his face and he shifted involuntarily in the seat. Ah, Brittany, he thought. Trusting, beautiful Brittany. What in the name of all that’s right in the universe was she doing to him?
That same sudden shift in emotions that had been ailing him for several days came back in full force and caused a tightening between his eyebrows and a flash of warning in his head. He couldn’t quite put words to the feeling, but it was Brittany—all Brittany—of that he was more than sure. It had been almost instant, the attraction he felt for her, and it burned inside of himnow. He felt her presence in the darnedest places. It was Brittany he saw in the glassy surface of the river when he ran along its edge early in the morning; and it was a copper-haired beauty with a smile as fresh as daffodils who ruffled his thoughts when he considered the next few months of his life. He had no right or reason to put her there in the middle of his mind like that.
Except there she was. Brittany Ellsbeth Winters, her eyes bright, her voice edged with laughter. And the mere tilt of her head and flip of that mass of fiery-edged hair lit his desires to rival an Independence Day display.
The harsh blare of a horn behind him brought Sam’s attention back to the road, but the nagging feeling remained, a relentless reminder that Brittany Winters was different, and that a friendly, amicable affair was not a part of her vocabulary. Nor should it ever be.
He switched on the radio. Easy strains of a symphony filled the car and smoothed out his thoughts until he felt comfortable and easy again.
It was Brittany who broke the silence several miles later. Sitting up straight, she looked out at the passing houses and small stores, the people on foot hurrying home from bus stops. “Sam, where are we? I’ve never seen this part of Windemere before.” She craned her neck to glimpse a street sign in the fading light, but it only told her she was in the northeast section of town.
“What?” Sam seemed pulled from a daze. He looked around, then sucked in a long, deliberate breath. Only after a minute had passed did he allow a half smile to ease the tightness of his mouth.
The houses lining the road were as familiar to him as the back of his hand. So were the shady streets, the people hunched against the cold as they walked, and the kids in worn jeans doing wheelies on their bikes. Why had he come back here? He shook his head slowly.
“We’re in Shadyside, Brittany. It’s a small little cocoonthat’s officially a part of Windemere but never claims that aloud. Memorial Cemetery and the Blue River separate it from the city, and Shadyside folks like that just fine.”
“Shadyside … Of course. I’ve heard of it and knew it was up here somewhere. I guess I just never had occasion to come this way.”
“No, probably not.” He turned a corner and slowly drove down a shaded, quiet
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