Read Online Hold Me Tight by Faith Sullivan - Free Book Online Page B

down yesterday, I just wanted to feel close to him again. Like if I closed my eyes, I could pretend I was curled up next to him under our skylight. Not sleeping under the same roof as his sworn enemy.
    But my pregnant body has clearly outgrown it as I feel my nipples straining against the fabric. It’s nothing but thin, white cotton, and I’m obviously giving Tim quite a show.
    “Don’t look at me like that.” I scowl, trying to cover myself with my arms, hastily reaching for my robe.
    “I’m not. I mean…not anymore.” He coughs, tilting back his head to stare at the ceiling. “But you can’t put that robe back on. It’s all wet, and you’re freezing.” He slides off one sleeve of his flannel shirt then the other. “Here. Take this. I insist.” He hands it to me, keeping his eyes averted.
    Now it’s my turn to get flustered as he strips down to his wifebeater, inadvertently showing off his ripped physique to its best advantage.
    “Um…thanks,” I mumble, taking it from him.
    It feels nice and warm from his body, but I try not to think about that as I slip it on over my shoulders. My fingers fumble with the buttons, but I make sure to button every single one.
    “Don’t mention it.” He gives me a shy smile, scratching the back of his neck. “It looks way better on you than it did on me anyway.”
    I like that he’s being sweet again, but I don’t want him flirting with me. It’s blurring too many lines—lines that shouldn’t be crossed when he still has a lot of explaining to do. He can’t pretend to smooth things over like last night never happened. I resent that he thinks I’m just going to drop it. Yeah right. I’m not letting him off the hook that easily.
    He whistles as he heads over to the supply closet, yanking out a steam cleaner and plugging it in. He runs it back and forth in front of the fridge as I take a seat at the table, examining the mountains of paperwork.
    “So Lauren’s taking care of all of these, huh?” I inquire, recognizing the familiar logos of several of the local utility companies.
    “Is that really how you want to start the day?” he asks dryly. “Talking about Lauren?”
    I lean forward, trying to glimpse his checkbook balance. It’s at least five figures. Damn, he’s doing pretty well for being unemployed.
    “Why are you helping her, Tim?” I question as he finishes up, wiping his hands on his jeans.
    He grunts before retrieving a frying pan from the bottom cabinet. “I could ask you the same exact thing.”
    “Lauren was never a fan of Cassidy. If you loved her like you said you did, why would you get mixed up with the one person who’s determined to ruin her reputation? I would think you’d want to protect her, not expose her secrets.” I cross my ankles, lifting my bare feet off the cold floor, waiting for him to answer me.
    But he doesn’t. Instead, he reaches up and pulls a box of pancake batter out of the cupboard. I should shut up. I’m starving, and the guy is cooking me breakfast, but he needs to start talking. And I intend to pick things up right where we left off. He might’ve clammed up after dropping that bomb about Eric not being the father of Cassidy’s baby, but we’re going to have to resume the conversation eventually. And now’s as good a time as any.
    “Lauren called earlier. She’s not happy with where you’re at with the screenplay. I wasn’t going to tell you about it, but if you want to talk about Lauren, let’s talk,” Tim says moodily, mixing the ingredients in a giant steel bowl.
    “Why are you protecting her when you know she’s up to no good? Do really need the money that bad? Tim, you could move somewhere else. Get another job. Anything is better than this.” I watch as his back stiffens and the spoonful of batter he’s holding above the pan hovers in midair.
    “It’s not just about the money. It’s more complicated than that. There are other people involved. Even if I cut and run, she’d hurt them, and