Read Online I’m In No Mood For Love by Rachel Gibson - Free Book Online
Authors: Rachel Gibson
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pockets. He followed her from the dining room, the silver heels of her shoes making tiny tap tap sounds across the kitchen tile.
Sebastian walked down the stairs first and opened the back door for her. His gaze moved from the blue of her eyes to her slicked-back hair. As a kid her hair had always looked painful. As a woman it looked like dark silk that needed to be messed up. “You look different,” he said.
The sleeve of her suit brushed the front of his T-shirt as she passed. “I wasn’t exactly at my best Saturday night.”
He chuckled and shut the door behind them. “I meant, you look different from when you were a kid. You used to wear thick glasses.”
“Oh. I had Lasik surgery about eight years ago.”She looked down at her feet as they walked beneath an old oak tree toward the garage. A breeze played with the leaves above their head, and shadows fluttered in her hair and across the side of her face. “How much of the conversation with my mother did you overhear?” she asked as they stepped from the lawn and onto the stone driveway.
“Enough to know that your mother didn’t take the news about Lonny very well.”
“Actually, Lonny is the perfect man for my mother.” They stopped by the back bumper of her Lexus. “Someone to arrange the flowers, who won’t bother her in the bedroom.”
“Sounds like an employee.” Like my father, he thought.
She placed a hand on the car and looked at the back of the house. “I’m sure you’ve guessed why I asked you to walk out here with me. We need to talk about what happened the other night.” She shook her head and opened her mouth to say more but nothing came out. She lifted her hand from the back of the Lexus, then set it back down again. “I’m not sure where to begin.”
He could help her out. Clear things up real fast and tell her they hadn’t slept together, but it wasn’t his job to make her life easier. One thing he’d learned from his years as a journalist was to just sit tight and listen. He leaned his hip into the car,crossed his arms over his chest, and waited. Several thin strips of sunlight picked out deep auburn strands in her brown hair, and the only reason he could think why he even noticed was because he was trained to notice small details. It was his job.
“I’m guessing we met in the bar at the Double Tree,” she began again.
“That’s right. You were throwing back Jägermeister with some guy wearing a backward ball cap and a wife beater.” Which was the truth. Then he broke his just-sit-back-and-listen rule and added a little lie for fun. “He had a nose ring and was missing a few teeth.”
“Oh God.” She pulled her fingers into a fist. “I’m not sure I want to know every detail. I mean, I probably should—up to a point anyway. It’s just that…” She paused and swallowed hard. Sebastian’s gaze slid from her mouth, down her throat, to the top button of her blouse. She was wound tight, but there was another side of her. One he’d seen the other night. One that didn’t pull her hair back and string pearls around her neck before noon. He wondered if she was wearing that pink bustier beneath her bland suit. It had been dark in the hotel room, and he hadn’t gotten a real good look at it before she’d whipped it off.
“I’m usually not the sort of woman to drink myself into oblivion or invite men to my hotelroom. You probably don’t believe that, and I don’t blame you. I…had a really bad day, which you already know about,” she rambled.
As Sebastian listened, he let his mind drift, and he wondered if she had a thong on beneath that virginal suit. Like the one she’d worn the other night. That thong had rocked. He wouldn’t mind seeing that thong again. Not that he liked Clare much. He didn’t, but not every woman could wear a thong and look that good in it. He’d traveled the world and seen his share of thong-clad women. It took a woman with a firm butt and just the right junk in her trunk to
Sebastian walked down the stairs first and opened the back door for her. His gaze moved from the blue of her eyes to her slicked-back hair. As a kid her hair had always looked painful. As a woman it looked like dark silk that needed to be messed up. “You look different,” he said.
The sleeve of her suit brushed the front of his T-shirt as she passed. “I wasn’t exactly at my best Saturday night.”
He chuckled and shut the door behind them. “I meant, you look different from when you were a kid. You used to wear thick glasses.”
“Oh. I had Lasik surgery about eight years ago.”She looked down at her feet as they walked beneath an old oak tree toward the garage. A breeze played with the leaves above their head, and shadows fluttered in her hair and across the side of her face. “How much of the conversation with my mother did you overhear?” she asked as they stepped from the lawn and onto the stone driveway.
“Enough to know that your mother didn’t take the news about Lonny very well.”
“Actually, Lonny is the perfect man for my mother.” They stopped by the back bumper of her Lexus. “Someone to arrange the flowers, who won’t bother her in the bedroom.”
“Sounds like an employee.” Like my father, he thought.
She placed a hand on the car and looked at the back of the house. “I’m sure you’ve guessed why I asked you to walk out here with me. We need to talk about what happened the other night.” She shook her head and opened her mouth to say more but nothing came out. She lifted her hand from the back of the Lexus, then set it back down again. “I’m not sure where to begin.”
He could help her out. Clear things up real fast and tell her they hadn’t slept together, but it wasn’t his job to make her life easier. One thing he’d learned from his years as a journalist was to just sit tight and listen. He leaned his hip into the car,crossed his arms over his chest, and waited. Several thin strips of sunlight picked out deep auburn strands in her brown hair, and the only reason he could think why he even noticed was because he was trained to notice small details. It was his job.
“I’m guessing we met in the bar at the Double Tree,” she began again.
“That’s right. You were throwing back Jägermeister with some guy wearing a backward ball cap and a wife beater.” Which was the truth. Then he broke his just-sit-back-and-listen rule and added a little lie for fun. “He had a nose ring and was missing a few teeth.”
“Oh God.” She pulled her fingers into a fist. “I’m not sure I want to know every detail. I mean, I probably should—up to a point anyway. It’s just that…” She paused and swallowed hard. Sebastian’s gaze slid from her mouth, down her throat, to the top button of her blouse. She was wound tight, but there was another side of her. One he’d seen the other night. One that didn’t pull her hair back and string pearls around her neck before noon. He wondered if she was wearing that pink bustier beneath her bland suit. It had been dark in the hotel room, and he hadn’t gotten a real good look at it before she’d whipped it off.
“I’m usually not the sort of woman to drink myself into oblivion or invite men to my hotelroom. You probably don’t believe that, and I don’t blame you. I…had a really bad day, which you already know about,” she rambled.
As Sebastian listened, he let his mind drift, and he wondered if she had a thong on beneath that virginal suit. Like the one she’d worn the other night. That thong had rocked. He wouldn’t mind seeing that thong again. Not that he liked Clare much. He didn’t, but not every woman could wear a thong and look that good in it. He’d traveled the world and seen his share of thong-clad women. It took a woman with a firm butt and just the right junk in her trunk to
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