Read Online Bride Quartet Collection by Nora Roberts - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Nora Roberts
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boobs.”
“I’m not done. Part two begins when I’m back home working, and carelessly answer the phone. My mother.”
Smile fading, Parker shook her head. “That’s not sexy. I’ve told you to screen, Mac.”
“I know, I know, but it was the business line, and I wasn’t thinking. Anyway, I did worse. She broke up with her latest, and went on one of her riffs. She’s shattered, she’s devastated, blah blah blah. The pain and suffering requires a week in a Florida spa and three thousand from me.”
“You didn’t,” Emma murmured. “Tell me you didn’t.”
Mac shrugged, stabbed another forkful of pancakes. “I wish I could say no.”
“Honey, you’ve got to stop,” Laurel told her. “You just have to stop.”
“I know.” Under the table, Emma rubbed Mac’s knee in sympathy. “I know, but I cracked, that’s all. After which I opened a fresh bottle of wine and proceeded to drown my sorrow and disgust.”
“You should’ve come back here.” Parker reached out, touched Mac’s hand. “We were here.”
“I know that, too. I was too mad, sad, and full of self-pity and disgust. Then guess who knocked on my door?”
“Oh-oh.” Laurel’s eyes popped. “Tell me you didn’t have drunk, self-pity sex with Carter—but if so, please include all details.”
“I invited him in for a drink.”
“Oh, boy!” In celebration, Emma ate another sliver of pancake.
“I dumped all over him. My family, suck, suck, suck. The guy comes by to drop off a package and ends up with a half-drunk woman in the middle of a pity party. He listened, which I didn’t really understand at the time, being half drunk and on a rant, but he listened to me. Then he took me out for a walk. He just put my coat on me, buttoned it up like I was three, and took me out. Where he listened some more until I’d pretty well run it down. Then he walked me back and—”
“You invite him back in and have sex,” Emma prompted.
“Get your own sexy breakfast story. I felt mildly embarrassed, and really grateful, so I give him a little peck. A ‘thanks, pal’ kind of peck. The next thing I know I’m in the middle of a brain-frying, blood-pumping, jungle-drum-beating kiss. The jerk-you-forward-then-shove-you-back-against-a-solid-surface type.”
“Oh.” Emma shuddered in pure delight. “I love those.”
“You love any type of lip-lock,” Laurel pointed out.
“Yes, yes, I do. I’d have guessed Carter more for the sexy, slow, and shy type.”
“Maybe he is, usually. Because while my head was busy exploding, he stopped, apologized—a couple of times—then slipped and slid his way back to his car. He was gone by the time I regained the power of speech.”
Parker nudged her plate away, picked up her coffee. “Well, you have to go get him. Obviously.”
“Obviously,” Emma concurred, and looked toward Laurel to complete the vote.
“Could be trouble.” Laurel shrugged. “He’s not her usual type, and he has moves that don’t coincide with his general demeanor. I smell complications.”
“Because he’s a nice, sweet, slightly klutzy guy who kisses like a warrior?” Emma gave Laurel a light kick under the table. “ I smell romance.”
“You smell romance in a traffic jam on ninety-five.”
“Maybe. But you know damn well you want to see what happens next. You can’t just let a kiss like that hang there,” Emma added, turning to Mac.
“Maybe, because as it stands it’s a nice sexy breakfast story, and nobody gets hurt. Now, I have to go call the bank and toss away three thousand dollars like it was confetti.” She scooted out of the nook. “I’ll see you all outside, with shovels.”
Parker plucked a raspberry out of the bowl after Mac left. “She’s not going to let it hang there. It’ll drive her crazy.”
“Second contact within forty-eight hours,” Laurel agreed, then scowled. “And damn it, she skated out of helping with the dishes.”
A T HIS DESK AT THE ACADEMY, CARTER WENT OVER THE
“I’m not done. Part two begins when I’m back home working, and carelessly answer the phone. My mother.”
Smile fading, Parker shook her head. “That’s not sexy. I’ve told you to screen, Mac.”
“I know, I know, but it was the business line, and I wasn’t thinking. Anyway, I did worse. She broke up with her latest, and went on one of her riffs. She’s shattered, she’s devastated, blah blah blah. The pain and suffering requires a week in a Florida spa and three thousand from me.”
“You didn’t,” Emma murmured. “Tell me you didn’t.”
Mac shrugged, stabbed another forkful of pancakes. “I wish I could say no.”
“Honey, you’ve got to stop,” Laurel told her. “You just have to stop.”
“I know.” Under the table, Emma rubbed Mac’s knee in sympathy. “I know, but I cracked, that’s all. After which I opened a fresh bottle of wine and proceeded to drown my sorrow and disgust.”
“You should’ve come back here.” Parker reached out, touched Mac’s hand. “We were here.”
“I know that, too. I was too mad, sad, and full of self-pity and disgust. Then guess who knocked on my door?”
“Oh-oh.” Laurel’s eyes popped. “Tell me you didn’t have drunk, self-pity sex with Carter—but if so, please include all details.”
“I invited him in for a drink.”
“Oh, boy!” In celebration, Emma ate another sliver of pancake.
“I dumped all over him. My family, suck, suck, suck. The guy comes by to drop off a package and ends up with a half-drunk woman in the middle of a pity party. He listened, which I didn’t really understand at the time, being half drunk and on a rant, but he listened to me. Then he took me out for a walk. He just put my coat on me, buttoned it up like I was three, and took me out. Where he listened some more until I’d pretty well run it down. Then he walked me back and—”
“You invite him back in and have sex,” Emma prompted.
“Get your own sexy breakfast story. I felt mildly embarrassed, and really grateful, so I give him a little peck. A ‘thanks, pal’ kind of peck. The next thing I know I’m in the middle of a brain-frying, blood-pumping, jungle-drum-beating kiss. The jerk-you-forward-then-shove-you-back-against-a-solid-surface type.”
“Oh.” Emma shuddered in pure delight. “I love those.”
“You love any type of lip-lock,” Laurel pointed out.
“Yes, yes, I do. I’d have guessed Carter more for the sexy, slow, and shy type.”
“Maybe he is, usually. Because while my head was busy exploding, he stopped, apologized—a couple of times—then slipped and slid his way back to his car. He was gone by the time I regained the power of speech.”
Parker nudged her plate away, picked up her coffee. “Well, you have to go get him. Obviously.”
“Obviously,” Emma concurred, and looked toward Laurel to complete the vote.
“Could be trouble.” Laurel shrugged. “He’s not her usual type, and he has moves that don’t coincide with his general demeanor. I smell complications.”
“Because he’s a nice, sweet, slightly klutzy guy who kisses like a warrior?” Emma gave Laurel a light kick under the table. “ I smell romance.”
“You smell romance in a traffic jam on ninety-five.”
“Maybe. But you know damn well you want to see what happens next. You can’t just let a kiss like that hang there,” Emma added, turning to Mac.
“Maybe, because as it stands it’s a nice sexy breakfast story, and nobody gets hurt. Now, I have to go call the bank and toss away three thousand dollars like it was confetti.” She scooted out of the nook. “I’ll see you all outside, with shovels.”
Parker plucked a raspberry out of the bowl after Mac left. “She’s not going to let it hang there. It’ll drive her crazy.”
“Second contact within forty-eight hours,” Laurel agreed, then scowled. “And damn it, she skated out of helping with the dishes.”
A T HIS DESK AT THE ACADEMY, CARTER WENT OVER THE
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