Read Online Forever Kisses (Romance on the Ranch Book 7) by Verna Clay - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Verna Clay
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was married, but no one voiced the questions reflected in their eyes.
On her days off, Sundays and Mondays, she often cooked a big meal that provided leftovers throughout the week. She'd even gotten into the habit of packing a lunch for Flatfoot to take to work. On the weekends, he'd spend most of the day repairing her farmhouse or driving the dirt trail surrounding her property to map the worst sections of dilapidated old fence lines for future replacement.
Peering around the window again, she saw that he had gone back to digging and once again had his back to her. She pulled on her lower lip as visions from their night together replayed like a movie in her mind. During the past three weeks she'd had flashbacks and wished she hadn't. Flatfoot was one fine lover. She closed her eyes and again felt his lips tenderly kissing hers as he moved gently above her.
Because Howie had only come to Paxtonville twice a year, she'd only had sex when he showed up. It had been good, but it hadn't been anything like Flatfoot's lovemaking—slow, sensuous, and mind blowing—if she remembered correctly. She almost laughed aloud at the idea of her imagination being so inventive. No, she wasn't making anything up.
When a voice behind her said, "You okay? You've been standing at that window for over an hour," she squeaked and jerked around.
Flatfoot cocked his head and studied her face. Her heart thudded when he asked, "Is there something I can do for you?"
Her jaw dropped, "Ah. Ah. No. No. Why would you ask?"
He shrugged. "Well, there's something you can do for me."
Her eyes widened.
His eyes never left hers. "How about you pour me a cup of coffee while I wash some of this dirt off?"
"Oh. Okay. Not a problem. You got it." Her eyes drifted over his naked torso and then jerked back to his face.
Before he turned around, he gave her a lopsided grin, and winked.
Sally rushed to make a fresh pot of coffee. Oh my god, he knows what I've been thinking.
Flatfoot stepped under a cool shower. Not only did he need to wash the dirt off, he needed to douse his libido. He'd seen Sally watching him from the window and when she hadn't moved away when he removed his shirt, he'd wondered what she was thinking…or remembering. Was their wedding night replaying itself over and over in her mind, like it did constantly in his? Although she proclaimed she didn't remember anything significant from that night, he was beginning to wonder. He remembered enough to put himself under a cold shower often.
He stepped out of the shower, changed into fresh clothing, and padded to the kitchen barefoot. He'd worked hard all day and intended to kick back for a couple of hours with a beer and watch a video he'd rented. It was an old kick-butt western starring Clint Eastwood that he hadn't seen in years.
He returned to a kitchen fragrant with the aroma of freshly brewed coffee. Some people couldn't drink the brew past a certain hour because it kept them awake at night, but he'd never been affected like that. He'd never had problems falling asleep; well, unless he allowed his mind to dwell on his wedding night. The more he was around Sally the more he wanted to stay married to her, but she would have to come to the same conclusion herself.
She was sitting at the table sipping coffee, but when she saw him, she jumped up to pour him a cup. He accepted and grinned. "Whatever you're cookin' sure smells good."
"It's lasagna from a family recipe."
"One of my favorite foods. Hey, since its Sunday, why don't we kick back when dinner's ready and watch a video. I rented The Good, The Bad, and The Ugly. "
"I haven't seen that movie in years. Sure, it sounds like fun."
Flatfoot watched Sally circle the lip of her cup with her finger. He knew she wanted to say something, so he sipped his coffee and waited.
She finally said, "I just want to thank you for all the repairs around here. And any money you spend on supplies, just tell me how much and I'll repay you."
He reached
On her days off, Sundays and Mondays, she often cooked a big meal that provided leftovers throughout the week. She'd even gotten into the habit of packing a lunch for Flatfoot to take to work. On the weekends, he'd spend most of the day repairing her farmhouse or driving the dirt trail surrounding her property to map the worst sections of dilapidated old fence lines for future replacement.
Peering around the window again, she saw that he had gone back to digging and once again had his back to her. She pulled on her lower lip as visions from their night together replayed like a movie in her mind. During the past three weeks she'd had flashbacks and wished she hadn't. Flatfoot was one fine lover. She closed her eyes and again felt his lips tenderly kissing hers as he moved gently above her.
Because Howie had only come to Paxtonville twice a year, she'd only had sex when he showed up. It had been good, but it hadn't been anything like Flatfoot's lovemaking—slow, sensuous, and mind blowing—if she remembered correctly. She almost laughed aloud at the idea of her imagination being so inventive. No, she wasn't making anything up.
When a voice behind her said, "You okay? You've been standing at that window for over an hour," she squeaked and jerked around.
Flatfoot cocked his head and studied her face. Her heart thudded when he asked, "Is there something I can do for you?"
Her jaw dropped, "Ah. Ah. No. No. Why would you ask?"
He shrugged. "Well, there's something you can do for me."
Her eyes widened.
His eyes never left hers. "How about you pour me a cup of coffee while I wash some of this dirt off?"
"Oh. Okay. Not a problem. You got it." Her eyes drifted over his naked torso and then jerked back to his face.
Before he turned around, he gave her a lopsided grin, and winked.
Sally rushed to make a fresh pot of coffee. Oh my god, he knows what I've been thinking.
Flatfoot stepped under a cool shower. Not only did he need to wash the dirt off, he needed to douse his libido. He'd seen Sally watching him from the window and when she hadn't moved away when he removed his shirt, he'd wondered what she was thinking…or remembering. Was their wedding night replaying itself over and over in her mind, like it did constantly in his? Although she proclaimed she didn't remember anything significant from that night, he was beginning to wonder. He remembered enough to put himself under a cold shower often.
He stepped out of the shower, changed into fresh clothing, and padded to the kitchen barefoot. He'd worked hard all day and intended to kick back for a couple of hours with a beer and watch a video he'd rented. It was an old kick-butt western starring Clint Eastwood that he hadn't seen in years.
He returned to a kitchen fragrant with the aroma of freshly brewed coffee. Some people couldn't drink the brew past a certain hour because it kept them awake at night, but he'd never been affected like that. He'd never had problems falling asleep; well, unless he allowed his mind to dwell on his wedding night. The more he was around Sally the more he wanted to stay married to her, but she would have to come to the same conclusion herself.
She was sitting at the table sipping coffee, but when she saw him, she jumped up to pour him a cup. He accepted and grinned. "Whatever you're cookin' sure smells good."
"It's lasagna from a family recipe."
"One of my favorite foods. Hey, since its Sunday, why don't we kick back when dinner's ready and watch a video. I rented The Good, The Bad, and The Ugly. "
"I haven't seen that movie in years. Sure, it sounds like fun."
Flatfoot watched Sally circle the lip of her cup with her finger. He knew she wanted to say something, so he sipped his coffee and waited.
She finally said, "I just want to thank you for all the repairs around here. And any money you spend on supplies, just tell me how much and I'll repay you."
He reached
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