Read Online Champagne and Lemon Drops: A Blueberry Springs Chick Lit Contemporary Romance by Jean Oram - Free Book Online Page B

him to release her and not
make her feel everything that was whirling through her life her
body was on spin cycle.
    "Then you have to believe that I'm working
as hard as I can. And right now I have to figure out if some of the
things I took for granted are missable."
    "Am I missable?"
    Oz sighed and gave her a tired
half-smile.
    "Am I?" she insisted.
    He gave her a light kiss on the forehead and
released her from his grip. She held her anger in check, waiting
for him to tell her he loved her and missed her desperately, as
desperately as his eyes sometimes showed. But he remained
quiet.
    Oz scooped his hands through his hair and
turned away. "I need to go. I can't talk about things yet. Maybe in
a couple of weeks."
    She watched him stride across the grass, his
head lowered. She sat against the tree and hugged her knees,
burying her face so nobody would see her wet eyes. Slowly regaining
control, she leaned back against the tree and ground her teeth.
Without seeing, she watched the baseball game until a shadow moved
across her legs.
    She looked up to see a decent distraction.
Her friend looking as handsome in his around-town garb as he did in
his scrubs. "Oh my God! Who's manning the hospital?" she half
joked, trying to smile.
    Nash laughed. "Everyone seems to be here.
Besides," he tapped the pager hanging from his belt, "I have
this."
    "Well, you'll be treating her in a few
hours." Beth pointed to a fair-haired lady playing shortstop. She
smoothed her hands over her bare knees, trying to dissipate the
residual hurt from her conversation with Oz. "If you see her
heading for the parking lot, consider yourself paged."
    "What? Why?" He studied the woman in
alarm.
    "She gets heatstroke every year." She bit
down a smile as his gorgeous eyes flicked around the park before
sneaking a peek at his pager, his shoulders stiff.
    Once certain he hadn't missed a page, he
asked, "Can I get you an ice cream?" He gestured to the ice cream
truck parked on a sunny patch of grass. "I was going to get myself
something."
    "An ice cream would be great," she said,
reaching into her pocket. Beth pulled out a crumpled five.
    "My treat. What would you like?"
    A way to motivate Oz into fixing whatever
the hell was wrong with him. Someone to take her to lunch and make
her forget her problems. Maybe show her the world. A little wining
and dining. Someone kind, generous, and caring. Someone to snuggle.
Someone to take the edge off of being heartbreakingly
almost-single. Unfortunately, she was pretty sure Mandy wasn't
serving that up in her cousin's ice-cream truck and it was all a
bit much to ask of Nash.
    "A Creamsicle would be fabulous," she
replied, finally. "Why aren't you playing?" She tilted her head
toward the ball diamond.
    "Oh," Nash shook his head. "I don't
play."
    "It's just for fun. Non-competitive."
    He shook his head again. "Nope. Not for
me."
    She frowned. Two outfielders were
piggybacking, yelling for the batter to hit the ball to them. Not
exactly competitive. "You have to compete or you won't play?"
    "I meant baseball isn't the sport for me."
He held up his baby-soft hands. "These are my instruments. I can't
afford to injure them."
    "Well, you get a mitt. I'm sure you'd be
okay."
    "There are no guarantees. Better safe than
out of work for six weeks."
    "Right." Beth nodded. "So, uh, a
Creamsicle?"
    "Orange?"
    "Is there any other?" Beth asked playfully,
slipping out of her funk.
    "There is also pink and blue."
    She lowered her gaze to her tank top's
spaghetti strap and slipped it off her shoulder, pretending to
check for signs of sunburn. She snuck a peek at Nash through her
mascaraed lashes. His face turned a lovely rouge, and his eyes
appeared stuck on her bare shoulder. "Orange is fine, thanks."
    "Me too. I like orange. Orange Creamsicles."
He smoothed the front of his shirt and ran a hand through his hair.
"Well, uh, I'll..." He cleared his throat and tore his eyes away
from her tanned shoulder with apparent effort. "Just go over
and..."