Read Online Carolina Home by Virginia Kantra - Free Book Online Page A

don’t know you. I don’t jump into…” Bed, she thought. “Things with someone I don’t know.”
    “I understand,” he said.
    She stared. “You do?”
    “Sure. You don’t do one-night stands.” He took a deep breath; released it slowly. “You got a way to get to school tomorrow?”
    “What?”
    “Without your bike.”
    “Oh. I…Yes.” Her blood was still warm, her face hot. “I do have a car. In the garage.”
    He nodded. “Okay.” His eyes met hers. “Call me if you get a flat.”

Five
     
    T HAT NIGHT , M ATT spent the hour after dinner fixing a leaky valve on the Harley. Classic bikes were best, everything simple, stripped down, easy to service. He didn’t have the time or inclination to go poking around with some complicated new fancy equipment. Low maintenance, that’s what he wanted.
    But even as he repaired the worn valve guide and installed new plugs, his mind kept sliding to Allison, remembering the flush on her face, the warm interest in her eyes.
    The way her hand had fisted in his shirt.
    He stepped out of the work shed, rolling his neck to ease the muscles there. His body felt restless. Needy.
    Cicadas whirred and chirred their mating cries, a rising, falling call that worked its way under his skin and into his blood. Hell, even the bugs were getting more action than he was. There had been the usual influx of tourists this summer, but no woman who really caught his eye. Maybe he’d been too busy. Maybe he was getting too particular.
    Matt made a face. Or too old.
    Whatever the reason, he hadn’t been with a woman in a really long time. Four months, he realized.
    Jesus.
After four months, a man was bound to get a little edgy and off his game.
    Which didn’t excuse him moving on his son’s new teacher like she was a woman he’d picked up in a bar.
    His brain replayed the scene in the truck in 3-D with sound effects, all that warmth, all that heat, that sound she’d made deep in her throat.
    Matt shook his head to clear it. Allison Carter didn’t do one-night stands.
    And he didn’t do anything else.
    He’d always had a ban on dating island women. On dating any woman who would expect more than he had left to give. Promises. A ring. A life.
    The trees in the garden, all fragrance and shadow, blocked the moon and the lights from the inn, leaving him alone in the dark.
    On the other hand, Allison Carter didn’t really fit the island profile, Matt decided. She looked like a woman who came from money. She talked like a person who had places to go.
I kept changing majors,
trying new things, hoping to discover something I could be passionate about.
    He could give her passion, he thought. But he didn’t expect her to stick around.
    Lots of people moved here, drawn by the idea of island life, seduced by the summers, only to discover when the last tourist left and the first hurricane blew in that they couldn’t put down roots in sand. When the school year was over, maybe sooner, Allison would move on. He could show her around, show her a good time, without anyone thinking he was auditioning another mother for Josh.
    Simple.
    But first he had to square things with his son.
    Matt crossed the strip of yard to his porch feeling almost cheerful.
    Inside the cottage, Josh sprawled on the living room couch, eating cereal from the box, the dog at his feet and his gaze locked on ESPN.
    Matt closed the door behind him, shutting out the incessant grind of the cicadas. “Done your homework?” he inquired.
    Josh sank lower into the couch. “Pretty much.”
    Another time that would have been enough.
    Allison’s face rose in Matt’s mind. Her voice echoed in his head.
Perhaps you should talk to him anyway.
    He walked into the open kitchen to pour a glass of water from the fridge. Fezzik’s tail thumped the carpet as he passed.
    “Saw your new teacher today,” he remarked.
    Josh snorted. “The DB.”
    Dingbatter.
The island epithet for newcomers, uplanders, and Yankees.
    “Miss Carter to you,”