Read Online Friends and Lovers Trilogy 03 - Seduced by Beth Ciotta - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Beth Ciotta
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bungled practical joke was a hell of a lot easier on the nerves than thinking she’d participated in a violent crime. What she needed was to occupy her mind. She needed to focus on something other than her dilemma and Joe’s stellar ass. “So,” she said, dragging her gaze from his excellent butt to scan what had to be the tidiest home ever. “Do you get Internet access out here in cactus-ville, or what?”
CHAPTER NINE
Rainbow Ridge, Vermont
T here were definite disadvantages to living in the middle of nowhere. Like, having to rely on a satellite dish to view television instead of basic, ordinary cable. Not that Rudy wasn’t impressed with the endless and varied programming—a classic movie buff’s dream—but, damn, dealing with proper dish placement, two receivers, and all the rest of the particulars had been a major pain in the ass. Finding the azimuth (which, by the way he’d had to look up in the dictionary to even know what an azimuth
was
), mounting the dish (mounting Jean-Pierre would’ve been more fun), setting the elevation, making sure his mast was absolutely vertical (uh-huh), and lastly fine-tuning the system. It had been a two-day project for someone who was somewhat technically-challenged. Casper had wrecked his efforts in the space of minutes.
Hands on hips, Rudy squinted up at the misaligned dish, his temper simmering towards boil. “If you weren’t already dead, Casper Montegue, I’d strangle you.” He meant it. He was
that
bent. He had little to no sympathy for the lovelorn ghost who’d put a kink in
his
love life.
Last night’s phone discussion with Jean-Pierre had sucked. The usually good-humored man’s disappointment rang clear, even though he’d claimed to understand when Rudy had listed his reasons for delaying the visit. Sadness, frustration, and dammit,
suspicion
had buzzed through the phone line giving Rudy a disconcerting zap. He’d spent a sleepless night regretting the stupid lie.
Wiring problem
. He should’ve confided in Jean-Pierre. Should’ve told him about Casper. Jean-Pierre might have questioned his sanity, but at least his integrity would’ve been intact.
“Damn!” Every fiber of his body ached to call Afia to lament his most current mistake, but their previous conversation had been bristly as well, and if he called, she’d no doubt start in again about wanting to stick to the gang’s original vacation plans. He wasn’t up for an argument. He wasn’t up for company. Just now, Casper was handful enough.
Growling, Rudy turned and schlepped toward the barn to get the ladder. First, he’d realign the satellite dish. Then, he’d boot up his computer and do some ghosthunting research on the Internet. That’s if his unwanted houseguest hadn’t screwed with the phone line. Then, he’d call Jean-Pierre and try to right his most recent wrong.
“I can’t get through.”
“Me either.”
Afia watched as Jake and Murphy powered off their individual cells and pocketed their phones, a bad feeling swirling in her enormous belly. She glanced sideways at Lulu, a petite, golden-haired free spirit who’d once faced down a mob boss and his minions. In comparison, enduring the foul moods of two take-charge husbands was probably a cake walk. Forcing a meek smile, Afia reached into her Gucci handbag for her own cell. “Maybe I’ll have better luck.”
“Forget it, baby. If I can’t get a signal, you can’t.” Jake kicked the rental car’s flat tire in frustration. Just her luck the spare was also soft. He pushed his mirrored aviators up the bridge of his nose and surveyed the vast wooded area with a frown. “We’re in the middle of … ” He looked at Murphy. “Where the hell are we?”
“Off the beaten track.” The protection specialist, who reminded Afia of a lean-mean George Clooney, raised a brow at his wife and then consulted the road map he’d spread out on the hood of the mid-sized four-door.
Lulu tossed the bag of chips she’d been
CHAPTER NINE
Rainbow Ridge, Vermont
T here were definite disadvantages to living in the middle of nowhere. Like, having to rely on a satellite dish to view television instead of basic, ordinary cable. Not that Rudy wasn’t impressed with the endless and varied programming—a classic movie buff’s dream—but, damn, dealing with proper dish placement, two receivers, and all the rest of the particulars had been a major pain in the ass. Finding the azimuth (which, by the way he’d had to look up in the dictionary to even know what an azimuth
was
), mounting the dish (mounting Jean-Pierre would’ve been more fun), setting the elevation, making sure his mast was absolutely vertical (uh-huh), and lastly fine-tuning the system. It had been a two-day project for someone who was somewhat technically-challenged. Casper had wrecked his efforts in the space of minutes.
Hands on hips, Rudy squinted up at the misaligned dish, his temper simmering towards boil. “If you weren’t already dead, Casper Montegue, I’d strangle you.” He meant it. He was
that
bent. He had little to no sympathy for the lovelorn ghost who’d put a kink in
his
love life.
Last night’s phone discussion with Jean-Pierre had sucked. The usually good-humored man’s disappointment rang clear, even though he’d claimed to understand when Rudy had listed his reasons for delaying the visit. Sadness, frustration, and dammit,
suspicion
had buzzed through the phone line giving Rudy a disconcerting zap. He’d spent a sleepless night regretting the stupid lie.
Wiring problem
. He should’ve confided in Jean-Pierre. Should’ve told him about Casper. Jean-Pierre might have questioned his sanity, but at least his integrity would’ve been intact.
“Damn!” Every fiber of his body ached to call Afia to lament his most current mistake, but their previous conversation had been bristly as well, and if he called, she’d no doubt start in again about wanting to stick to the gang’s original vacation plans. He wasn’t up for an argument. He wasn’t up for company. Just now, Casper was handful enough.
Growling, Rudy turned and schlepped toward the barn to get the ladder. First, he’d realign the satellite dish. Then, he’d boot up his computer and do some ghosthunting research on the Internet. That’s if his unwanted houseguest hadn’t screwed with the phone line. Then, he’d call Jean-Pierre and try to right his most recent wrong.
“I can’t get through.”
“Me either.”
Afia watched as Jake and Murphy powered off their individual cells and pocketed their phones, a bad feeling swirling in her enormous belly. She glanced sideways at Lulu, a petite, golden-haired free spirit who’d once faced down a mob boss and his minions. In comparison, enduring the foul moods of two take-charge husbands was probably a cake walk. Forcing a meek smile, Afia reached into her Gucci handbag for her own cell. “Maybe I’ll have better luck.”
“Forget it, baby. If I can’t get a signal, you can’t.” Jake kicked the rental car’s flat tire in frustration. Just her luck the spare was also soft. He pushed his mirrored aviators up the bridge of his nose and surveyed the vast wooded area with a frown. “We’re in the middle of … ” He looked at Murphy. “Where the hell are we?”
“Off the beaten track.” The protection specialist, who reminded Afia of a lean-mean George Clooney, raised a brow at his wife and then consulted the road map he’d spread out on the hood of the mid-sized four-door.
Lulu tossed the bag of chips she’d been
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