Read Online Husband for Hire by Susan Crosby - Free Book Online Page A

hadn’t expected it, hadn’t felt him drawing near, yet she welcomed it as he moved his lips over hers leisurely, enticingly. His tongue sought entry, but still he kept things slow when what she suddenly wanted was speed and heat, the hunger for him intense.
    Too intense. She wasn’t ready for this. Not now. Not yet. She didn’t want to know what he was like in bed, because she figured he’d be perfection—generous and satisfying, as he was in every other aspect in life. She didn’t want to be left with that memory when he walked away.
    â€œStop,” she whispered. “Please.”
    He released her. She lifted the cucumber slices away and looked at him, at his expression that told her little, only that maybe her quick change in mood seemed a little crazy to him. She wanted to share, but she couldn’t. Not yet.
    â€œHungry?” he asked. “Sandwiches are ready.”
    Hungry? “Starved,” she said, standing, feeling a little light-headed then finding her bearings again.
    â€œYou look better,” he said later, after they’d eaten.
    She nodded. She felt better, too. Energized and aroused—an invigorating combination. “I’m ready to get to work.”
    Hours later they called in an order for pizza, plopped onto the couch and surveyed her living room. As soon as they recycled the magazines and other papers they’d stacked by her front door, there would be little left to take up space.
    â€œI knew I didn’t have much furniture,” she said. “But I thought I had more than this.”
    â€œDo you have anything in storage somewhere?”
    â€œThis is all of it. I’ve always traveled light. I also gave away most of my old pieces when I moved in here, wanting to start fresh.”
    â€œDo you have ideas about furnishing the rooms?”
    â€œI’d like it to look good. A place I could bring not just friends but business associates to, but I’m so bad at decorating, Gavin. I have no vision for the big picture.”
    â€œHow about the little picture?”
    â€œWhat do you mean?”
    Gavin walked into the guest room and came out with a box. “I came across these today. Something from your childhood, I imagine.”
    She peered into the box as he held the lid open, but she didn’t take anything out. She knew what was inside—about fifty figurines of dogs made of alldifferent kinds of materials, from ceramic to plastic to metal. Breeds of all kinds, too. From three inches tall to a half inch.
    â€œWould you want these displayed?” he asked.
    â€œI can’t see them fitting the decor.”
    â€œDoes it matter? If they’re special, they’ll fit.”
    â€œNo. They’re kid stuff.”
    â€œYet you’ve kept them.”
    â€œThey’re from my past. I don’t need them displayed.” Or the memories associated with them. She knew she was being abrupt and evasive, but she couldn’t talk about it with him.
    He was quiet a long time. “My sister Shana is pretty good at decorating, apparently. If you want, I can get her involved.”
    â€œYou are the gift that keeps on giving,” Becca said with a sigh, relieved he’d stopped pushing. “Yes. By all means, yes.” She would say anything at this point to end his questions.
    He pulled out his phone, searched for a number.
    â€œYou don’t have to take care of it right this second,” she said, feeling guilty for turning over the task to him and his sister, but also wishing he would just rest for a few minutes. He’d been teaching her how to do that, yet couldn’t always do the same himself.
    Sometimes he seemed…well, haunted, for lack of a better word. He retreated into himself, not talking, emptying boxes as if on autopilot.
    â€œWe can’t delay, Becca. This’ll take a few days, and I don’t know what kind of time she has available.”He held up a finger.