Read Online Ask Me for Tomorrow by Elise K Ackers - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Elise K Ackers
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him at what had to be the smallest table in the dining room, she’d found herself opening up. Despite all of the warning bells in her head, she hadn’t been able to help herself. There was something innately trustworthy about Dean Foster. That, and the fact that he’d shared so much with her.
They’d done the quick history recap, they’d talked about the people who had once loved them, about their kids and the ways life had surprised them. She’d redirected the conversation a few times whenever it had strayed too close to exposing her second job, and Dean had been easy-going enough to roll with each segue.
She’d enjoyed herself.
It had been so long since she’d had a meal with another adult. She gave all her spare time to Ben, which meant many of her friends had drifted because she was always so busy or tired. Alice was a mother first, an employee second and a friend third. And on her generous, more patient days her ill-fitting role as a daughter came a distant fourth.
Standing up behind the reception desk, Alice moved over to the door leading to the garage, looked through its glass panel and crossed her arms over her chest. Dean stood at the bonnet of a car, examining things she couldn’t name or guess the purpose of, his muscular arms over his head, his hands gripping opposite elbows. He was well worth looking at. And wasn’t it curious that the distressed jeans, the dirty collared polo top and the grease stains on his skin did little to discourage her imagination. If anything, they gave her thoughts flavour.
He dropped his arms to his sides and turned so suddenly that Alice was caught staring. She gave a halting wave and stepped away from the door. Moments later Dean stepped in.
‘I’m just stretching my legs,’ she said, turning, her arms crossed over her chest again.
‘Okay,’ he said easily. ‘I didn’t come in here to tell you to get back to work.’ He closed the door and the grumble of a sick motor quietened. ‘Wow, it’s warm in here.’
She glanced at the wall-mounted air-conditioning unit. ‘I feel the cold.’
By way of an answer, he dragged his jumper over his head. His shirt lifted for a moment, exposing his stomach and a line of dark hair between his navel and waistband, then dropped back into place. The temperature in the room seemed to spike.
Dean crossed the room, lifted one of the customer chairs with one grease-stained hand and carried it over to her desk. When he sat opposite her, sweat on his brow despite the chill outside, a line of oil beneath his eye and a smile on his face, Alice felt the warmth of the room move into her body.
He was beautiful. Despite being dirty, roughly dressed and so full of testosterone it seemed to thicken the air around him, he had a gentle, kind quality that smoothed the edges of his sharp masculinity. She wouldn’t be surprised if the women in this town were breaking their cars on purpose.
Misreading her expression, he said, ‘Is it okay if I hang out here for a bit and chat?’
She nodded.
‘You’re not too busy?’
Alice glanced between the phone and her computer. ‘That feels like a trick question.’
He laughed. ‘Fair enough. I’m not asking as your boss.’
‘What are you asking as?’
Propping his elbows on his knees, he considered her. ‘Your friend?’ The vulnerability in his eyes did strange things to her already fast-beating heart.
She swallowed, and dared to let him in a little further. ‘Okay. Do you want a coffee?’
His grinned. ‘Yeah, you want to go to Sal’s?’
‘No, I’ll just get us some instant. Just between friends, my boss keeps us all on a pretty short leash.’
They smiled at each other for a fraction longer than friends might do, then she turned and left the room.
It felt like an age before the kettle boiled, which gave her time enough to wonder about the man waiting for her out the front. They were on dangerous ground. Within days they had moved from acquaintances to colleagues, and now to
They’d done the quick history recap, they’d talked about the people who had once loved them, about their kids and the ways life had surprised them. She’d redirected the conversation a few times whenever it had strayed too close to exposing her second job, and Dean had been easy-going enough to roll with each segue.
She’d enjoyed herself.
It had been so long since she’d had a meal with another adult. She gave all her spare time to Ben, which meant many of her friends had drifted because she was always so busy or tired. Alice was a mother first, an employee second and a friend third. And on her generous, more patient days her ill-fitting role as a daughter came a distant fourth.
Standing up behind the reception desk, Alice moved over to the door leading to the garage, looked through its glass panel and crossed her arms over her chest. Dean stood at the bonnet of a car, examining things she couldn’t name or guess the purpose of, his muscular arms over his head, his hands gripping opposite elbows. He was well worth looking at. And wasn’t it curious that the distressed jeans, the dirty collared polo top and the grease stains on his skin did little to discourage her imagination. If anything, they gave her thoughts flavour.
He dropped his arms to his sides and turned so suddenly that Alice was caught staring. She gave a halting wave and stepped away from the door. Moments later Dean stepped in.
‘I’m just stretching my legs,’ she said, turning, her arms crossed over her chest again.
‘Okay,’ he said easily. ‘I didn’t come in here to tell you to get back to work.’ He closed the door and the grumble of a sick motor quietened. ‘Wow, it’s warm in here.’
She glanced at the wall-mounted air-conditioning unit. ‘I feel the cold.’
By way of an answer, he dragged his jumper over his head. His shirt lifted for a moment, exposing his stomach and a line of dark hair between his navel and waistband, then dropped back into place. The temperature in the room seemed to spike.
Dean crossed the room, lifted one of the customer chairs with one grease-stained hand and carried it over to her desk. When he sat opposite her, sweat on his brow despite the chill outside, a line of oil beneath his eye and a smile on his face, Alice felt the warmth of the room move into her body.
He was beautiful. Despite being dirty, roughly dressed and so full of testosterone it seemed to thicken the air around him, he had a gentle, kind quality that smoothed the edges of his sharp masculinity. She wouldn’t be surprised if the women in this town were breaking their cars on purpose.
Misreading her expression, he said, ‘Is it okay if I hang out here for a bit and chat?’
She nodded.
‘You’re not too busy?’
Alice glanced between the phone and her computer. ‘That feels like a trick question.’
He laughed. ‘Fair enough. I’m not asking as your boss.’
‘What are you asking as?’
Propping his elbows on his knees, he considered her. ‘Your friend?’ The vulnerability in his eyes did strange things to her already fast-beating heart.
She swallowed, and dared to let him in a little further. ‘Okay. Do you want a coffee?’
His grinned. ‘Yeah, you want to go to Sal’s?’
‘No, I’ll just get us some instant. Just between friends, my boss keeps us all on a pretty short leash.’
They smiled at each other for a fraction longer than friends might do, then she turned and left the room.
It felt like an age before the kettle boiled, which gave her time enough to wonder about the man waiting for her out the front. They were on dangerous ground. Within days they had moved from acquaintances to colleagues, and now to
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