Read Online Borrowed Bride by Patricia Coughlin - Free Book Online
Authors: Patricia Coughlin
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considered that given the shared history and close friendship between Joel and him, his loss had been almost as devastating as her own. She hadnât wanted to consider it. Last night, in that agonizingly silent moment, sheâd been forced to confront his grief. What sheâd seen was sorrow so deep, so overwhelming, it could make you question your own life. She knew firsthand how that kind of sorrow felt.
Her salvation had been Toby. Heâd been her impetus to go on, her reason to drag herself out of bed in the morning when all she wanted to do was pull the covers up over her head and cry, a reason to smile even when she felt like screaming. In the past two years sheâd thanked God a million times that she had Toby, someone who needed and loved her, someone who was a part of Joel that she could hang on to. What had Connor had to hang on to to help him through his pain?
Gabrielle sighed as she tried to sort through the feelings, old and new, churning inside her. It wasnât easy. If Connor hadnât stalked from the kitchen after their little scene last evening, she would have been forced to. As it was, sheâd spent the rest of the night alone up here in the room sheâd claimed as her own. When he had rapped on the door later and curtly asked if she wanted to eat dinner, she had just as abruptly replied that she would rather starve.
She nearly had. Sheâd awoken this morning with her stomach growling painfully. Still sheâd waited until she heard him finish puttering in the kitchen and go outside before she ventured downstairs to help herself to the coffee heâd made and toast a cinnamon-raisin English muffin for breakfast.
He had left the knapsack full of clothes outside her door, and after breakfast she had reluctantly helped herself to them, as well. Sheâd showered and washed her hair and dressed in a pair of khaki shorts and a cream-colored T-shirt before retreating into her room once again. She wasnât sure whether to feel pleased or annoyed that everything heâd brought for her fit perfectly. Including the lingerie. The bra and panties were even a style she would choose for herself, neither too plain nor too fancy. Pale ivory, they were made of a body-hugging ribbed cotton knit and trimmed with a narrow band of crocheted lace.
She would have expected something different from Connor. Either some ugly monstrosity that was the wrong size and just happened to be the first thing he grabbed, or else something made of red satin and trimmed with black lace that would serve to both titillate his legendary libido and satisfy his adolescent need to shock. The fact that instead heâd chosen something so absolutely right for her was very unsettling.
How could he possibly know her so well, she fretted, when some of her assumptions about him had been so wrong?
Swinging herself off the bed, she paced across the room to break her thoughts. There was no way she was going to let herself get sucked into taking that path. Now more than ever, she couldnât afford to indulge in any self-doubts or second guesses where Connor DeWolfe was concerned. So he had gotten lucky with the clothing he selected. Big deal. That didnât change what he was, what he had always been. Reckless and impulsive, an adrenaline junkie always on the lookout for the next big risk, the next rush. That was the real Connor, and she of all people understood that he couldnât be trusted for a minute.
She still didnât completely grasp everything he had told her yesterday, only that he had drawn a line with him on one side and Adam on the other. Adam, who had always been there for her these past two years, who had sat with her and held her hand at the hospital when Toby was so sick, who had promised her a future when the one sheâd counted on had been blasted out of existence. Adam offered her what she wanted most, she reminded herself, a safe, secure life for herself and for Toby. As opposed
Her salvation had been Toby. Heâd been her impetus to go on, her reason to drag herself out of bed in the morning when all she wanted to do was pull the covers up over her head and cry, a reason to smile even when she felt like screaming. In the past two years sheâd thanked God a million times that she had Toby, someone who needed and loved her, someone who was a part of Joel that she could hang on to. What had Connor had to hang on to to help him through his pain?
Gabrielle sighed as she tried to sort through the feelings, old and new, churning inside her. It wasnât easy. If Connor hadnât stalked from the kitchen after their little scene last evening, she would have been forced to. As it was, sheâd spent the rest of the night alone up here in the room sheâd claimed as her own. When he had rapped on the door later and curtly asked if she wanted to eat dinner, she had just as abruptly replied that she would rather starve.
She nearly had. Sheâd awoken this morning with her stomach growling painfully. Still sheâd waited until she heard him finish puttering in the kitchen and go outside before she ventured downstairs to help herself to the coffee heâd made and toast a cinnamon-raisin English muffin for breakfast.
He had left the knapsack full of clothes outside her door, and after breakfast she had reluctantly helped herself to them, as well. Sheâd showered and washed her hair and dressed in a pair of khaki shorts and a cream-colored T-shirt before retreating into her room once again. She wasnât sure whether to feel pleased or annoyed that everything heâd brought for her fit perfectly. Including the lingerie. The bra and panties were even a style she would choose for herself, neither too plain nor too fancy. Pale ivory, they were made of a body-hugging ribbed cotton knit and trimmed with a narrow band of crocheted lace.
She would have expected something different from Connor. Either some ugly monstrosity that was the wrong size and just happened to be the first thing he grabbed, or else something made of red satin and trimmed with black lace that would serve to both titillate his legendary libido and satisfy his adolescent need to shock. The fact that instead heâd chosen something so absolutely right for her was very unsettling.
How could he possibly know her so well, she fretted, when some of her assumptions about him had been so wrong?
Swinging herself off the bed, she paced across the room to break her thoughts. There was no way she was going to let herself get sucked into taking that path. Now more than ever, she couldnât afford to indulge in any self-doubts or second guesses where Connor DeWolfe was concerned. So he had gotten lucky with the clothing he selected. Big deal. That didnât change what he was, what he had always been. Reckless and impulsive, an adrenaline junkie always on the lookout for the next big risk, the next rush. That was the real Connor, and she of all people understood that he couldnât be trusted for a minute.
She still didnât completely grasp everything he had told her yesterday, only that he had drawn a line with him on one side and Adam on the other. Adam, who had always been there for her these past two years, who had sat with her and held her hand at the hospital when Toby was so sick, who had promised her a future when the one sheâd counted on had been blasted out of existence. Adam offered her what she wanted most, she reminded herself, a safe, secure life for herself and for Toby. As opposed
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