Read Online Enlisted by Love by Jenny Jacobs - Free Book Online Page B

will be just across the hall,” she said, attempting to reassert control of the situation. There was nothing remotely funny about a home entertainment system, at least in her opinion, so invoking it should prevent her from giving in to mirth. “You’ll still be able to get your fill of football.”
    â€œMake sure there’s a nice recliner in there,” he said. “You know, Michael’s dad had a Barcalounger — ”
    â€œNow you’re just goading me.” She put her hands on her hips and tried to give him a glare. He tried to respond. She saw the betraying twitch of his lips and she had to bite down hard to keep her own laughter from escaping. Which of them would surrender first?
    â€œLook at this,” Tess said.
    Greta glanced over at her. She had opened one of the many storage boxes piled in the unit, and was bent over it, scrounging for treasures. Tess could find treasures anywhere, although Greta sometimes disagreed with her on what, exactly, constituted a treasure. She waited a second for Tess to explain what had demanded that she interrupt a conversation with a client. Then it dawned on her. Tess never interrupted a conversation Greta was having with a client. Unless … unless Tess thought Greta was behaving less than professionally.
    She couldn’t help it. The idea that Tess thought she was acting unprofessionally — Tess of all people — struck her as so ludicrous she couldn’t even protest the judgment. She burst into laughter. A moment later, Ian joined her. Tess looked from one to the other, clearly unsure what had just happened.
    â€œGreta?”
    Greta couldn’t say anything, just held up a hand, asking for patience while she laughed. Tess blinked at the scene, not joining them but obviously not certain what the appropriate response should be. After a moment, their giggles subsided and Greta dabbed her eyes with the back of her hand.
    â€œNow you’ve made my mascara run,” she accused Ian and that sent both of them back into laughter.
    When Greta had recovered herself again, she took a deep breath and turned to her sister. Tess, now sitting cross-legged on the floor, stared up at them as if they were some alien species. Lengths of batik fabric spilled out of the box she’d opened onto her lap.
    â€œWhat do you think?” she asked politely, ignoring their behavior as if it had never happened. She held up a length of cloth. “Greta, this would make great curtains for the bedroom. Were you in India, Ian?”
    Greta glanced at Ian, who was still smiling broadly but seemed in control of himself. She lifted a brow in his direction. What had just happened between them? Sparring with Ian wasn’t supposed to make her laugh so hard. She met his gray eyes, and when she did the gleam of amusement in them died down and something else took its place, something that slid across her skin like a caress. Heat and desire —
    Tess cleared her throat. “Uh, guys?”
    Greta shook herself, tearing her gaze away from Ian’s with an effort. She crossed over to where Tess was sitting and bent to pick up one of the lengths of fabric. She ran it through her fingers. The fabric was cool and smooth, colorful without being loud and distracting.
    â€œI think — ” Tess began.
    â€œHush,” Greta said, knowing Tess wouldn’t be offended. When Tess was in the throes of designing fabric, she often did the same to Greta. Greta frowned at the fabric resting between her fingers, then remembered that was a bad habit and let the frown go. Ian needed a bedroom; she would give him one. His tastes ran to Asian-influenced design; she would give him that.
    â€œI see a big platform bed in a light wood stain,” she said. Tess scrabbled for the pen and the notebook she always had on hand, and began jotting notes as Greta spoke.
    â€œEgyptian cotton sheets and a comforter made of this material. Curtains, too, you’re