Read Online Beauty & the Beasts by Anne Weale, Janice Kay Johnson - Free Book Online Page A

fries and onion rings and apple pie to go with it, don’t you?”
    She punched his arm. “I’m not that big a pig!”
    “Did I use that word?”
    “I know I ate a lot today. But I don’t always. I’m like…like a big cat in the wild. When I eat, I stuff, then I go a long time before I eat again.”
    “Right.”
    “You don’t believe me.”
    He grinned. “Yeah, actually I do. If you ate like you did today all the time, you’d be built like that cat at the shelter.”
    Not beautiful was what he meant. A hot spurt of temper made her retort too sharply, “Jackson is handsome. Stately.”
    “From a medical standpoint, obese.”
    “So he’s ugly, I suppose.”
    Eric raised a brow. “I didn’t realize we were talkingaesthetics here. I didn’t say he wasn’t handsome. Sure he is. But he’s still fat. He eats too much. You obviously don’t. I wasn’t implying anything else.”
    He sounded exasperated and she didn’t blame him. She’d gotten paranoid, assuming the entire world was focused on appearances because the part of it she’d grown up in was. And, she reminded herself, because most men seemed focused on women’s figures and faces. Including Eric Bergstrom. Still…
    “You’re right,” she admitted. “He’s fat.”
    “Saints be praised! The woman conceded a point!”
    “Do I detect some sarcasm?”
    “Never.” He put on the turn signal. “This street?”
    A moment later they pulled up in front of her tiny old house, a source of great pride and joy to her. Like the others on this block, it had been built as company housing by one of the giant lumber mills in the early years of the century. The houses had eventually become shabby, mostly rentals; a few had been razed to make way for bigger houses or, down at the corner, a five-unit apartment building. But now most of the ones along her street were being restored to their former charm by young families or single professionals who commuted to Bellevue or Seattle daily. Madeline, had painted hers sea-foam green with white trim. A white picket fence marked the boundaries of her front yard. She loved that white picket fence. She’d always wanted one.
    Today it represented refuge.
    “Thanks,” she said, hand on the door handle. “I had a great time.”
    Formidably handsome, Eric smiled. “I’ll walk you up.”
    A flutter of panic raised her voice an octave. “Oh, you don’t have to.”
    Now that smile had become implacable. “I want to.”
    He was going to kiss her. She knew it. And she wasn’t ready, hadn’t the slightest idea how she’d respond, how she should respond. Dear God, how had she let herself get so out of practice, so…naive?
    But it was too late to argue; he was already out of the pickup and circling the front. Hastily she scrambled down. Heaven forbid that he think she was waiting for him to help her out. By the time she slammed the passenger-side door, Eric had opened her front gate, which passed under a white-painted arch covered with a tangle of honeysuckle and royal purple clematis.
    On the way up the walk, Madeline unzipped her waist pack and grabbed her keys. She had the door unlocked and open before she turned to face Eric. One cat hopped from the porch railing to rub her ankle and go in; two others shot out of the house and down the steps as though they were convicts escaping the joint.
    Only peripherally aware of the feline activity, Madeline said, “I really did have a lovely time today. Thanks.”
    He took a step closer; as if they were dancing, she took one back. Creases formed between his browsand then he inclined his head, as though acknowledging her wishes.
    “Unless something comes up, I’ll see you tomorrow.”
    Madeline agreed and, refusing to let herself watch him as he headed down the walk, gently closed the door. Safely alone, she let out her breath with a long shuddering whoosh.
    He was a stubborn man. She hadn’t deliberately set out to be difficult, but she knew she was. Why wasn’t he calling