Read Online Dear Sir, I'm Yours by Joely Sue Burkhart - Free Book Online Page B

on the image of her ass framed in those incredibly tight jeans as she crawled beneath the porch. “Shut up. So are we on for tomorrow?”
    “Sure, but you’re responsible for bringing the coffee.”

    ***
    Armed with a spiral notebook and several pencils the next morning, Rae took a survey of Beulah Land or Healy House, or whatever the hell Miss Belle was calling the B&B. On one page, she made a list of everything structurally that needed to be fixed, or that she recommended fixing for cosmetic reasons. On another page, she had a list of requests from Miss Belle, like the koi pond down by the gazebo. Then she started making phone calls.
    A roofer would be by tomorrow morning. Of course, the front gate needed work. A landscaper would come help with the pond. She’d noticed some water marks on the attic and second floor ceilings, which would probably be resolved by the roof repairs. Thankfully, those areas of the grand old house hadn’t been renovated yet. Once the roof was sealed, Miss Belle could bring in her finishers to paint the plaster.
    After last night’s craziness, she’d been afraid whether Miss Belle would actually let her work, or if the old lady would hang around second-guessing everything she did. She didn’t seem to be the kind of lady who let things happen without her nose stuck in it. Miracle of miracles, though, the old gal finished breakfast, made sure Rae had everything she needed, and then jumped in her Caddy and drove off to go shopping in Branson. Definitely a crazy old lady to face the tourists and traffic just to shop!

    The best painter she knew was able to stop by since he was in the area. Joe was up on a ladder checking the integrity of the old paint, scraping here and there up under the eaves on each wall to catch any rot that needed to be addressed before the new paint went up.
    Rae’s cell phone rang. She didn’t recognize the number. “This is the Fix-It Lady making your house nightmare right. What can I do for you today?”
    “Pop quiz, darlin’.”
    Broad daylight without a single touch, and her breasts tightened to the point she wished she had a denim shirt on over her tee shirt. “Good morning to you too. Did you sleep well?”
    She moved down the side of the house toward the front porch. She’d been wondering how long it’d take him to call. Checking her watch, she was impressed. He’d almost made it until noon.
    “Hell no, and I had an appointment early this morning, too.” He actually growled, which made her smile. She’d slept terribly too, tossing and turning all night, aching to be in his arms.
    “Tell me the poet and the choice is yours, dinner out tonight or we’ll eat with Miss Belle again.
    Extra credit if you can quote some lines of the same poem. Ready?”
    “What’s the extra credit worth, so I’ll know whether I should run upstairs and drag out my anthology from your class.”
    Conn laughed. “No cheating, and I’m not telling you the extra credit until tonight. Just know you won’t be sorry at all to win it.”
    “It’s been a long time, Dr. Connagher. What if I fail this quiz?”
    “Then you’ll have a chance to see how Miss Belle can burn even microwaved leftovers.”
    “Ouch, alright. I’m ready.”
    “‘ The everlasting universe of things/ Flows through the mind, and rolls its rapid waves,/
    Now dark—now glittering—now reflecting gloom— ’”
    “That’s easy. ‘Mont Blanc’ by Percy Bysshe Shelley.”
    “Excellent, Miss Jackson. Can you quote some?”
    She tried to remember what came next but drew a blank other than a snippet of a line from near the end. “‘ Mont Blanc yet gleams on high. ’ That’s all I remember.”
    “Good enough, that’s worth a little extra credit. So what time can I pick you up tonight?”
    “Where are we going?”
    “A little place I know called Mythos in Joplin.”
    Wow, that was a bit of a drive. Which reminded her of something. “How about six o’clock and a