Read Online In the Mood for Love by Beth Ciotta - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Beth Ciotta
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suppose—”
“Sure.”
“Maybe after, we can take a joyride through the state park.”
His lip twitched. “Maybe.” He turned his attention back to the list. “Hey. My granddaughter Peppy is listed.”
Peppy Redding would be another tough nut. Mostly because she was such an odd bird. A songwriting guitar player who’d flitted all over the country trying to hitch her wagon to a star. Struggling financially, she’d returned to the home roost, temporarily living with her dad, Vincent’s son Marvin, and taking up with a local band. All Daisy really knew was that Peppy was a disappointment to her father and a source of concern for Vincent.
“Why is my granddaughter on your family bucket list?” he asked.
Now it was Daisy’s turn to frown. “I guess I assumed, given our … situation, well, I thought … Don’t you think of my family as your own?”
“I’m fond of everyone, of course. But I guarantee they don’t think of me as family.”
“Sure they do.”
Vincent tossed her a skeptical look.
“Okay. Maybe not my son. And maybe not Devlin.” Her eldest grandson was practically a chip off his old man’s block, both of them being overprotective stick-in-the-muds.
“It would be easier if we made our situation legal.”
“Why ruin a good thing?”
Vincent sighed. “More coffee?”
She’d hurt his feelings. Again. But darn it all, she’d already been that route with Jessup. It’s not that he’d abused her, but he’d strangled her spirit, manipulated her behavior, narrowed her scope. Daisy didn’t believe in divorce. And she’d feel bad about kicking a man out. If things turned sour with Vincent, she needed to be able to walk away. Just one of the reasons she’d moved out of her home and into his. It gave her the freedom to leave. Life was short and freedom was priceless.
“I’ll do it,” Vincent said as he stood to clear the table.
Daisy snapped out of her reverie. “You’ll cut back on work to help me with my family bucket list?”
“Yup.”
“Just like that?”
“Nope.”
Daisy shot to her moose-slippered feet, snatched up her dishes, and shuffled to his side. “What’s that mean?” she asked as he filled the basin with hot water and a squirt of Palmolive.
“Means you owe me.”
Daisy slid their dishes into the sudsy water. “What are we talking?”
His fleshy lips twitched into an ornery smile that sort of scared and excited Daisy at the same time. “When I know, Princess Petunia, you’ll know.”
SEVEN
Sam steered his truck along Swamp Road at a leisurely pace. Unlike last night, he wasn’t racing to Harper’s rescue. He was picking her up for a date. Their first date. Considering he’d already proposed marriage, they were going at this bassackward. Then again their short association had an overall slam-bam theme. From their adrenaline-surged initial meeting to their subsequent erotic liaisons. Sam had caressed, sampled, and admired every inch of Harper Day’s delectable body, yet he didn’t know anything about her beyond the obvious. That wouldn’t go well with immigration and it didn’t sit right with Sam. Today they’d take it slow. Today they’d talk. As in a meaningful two-sided conversation.
“This should be good.”
It would definitely be a first.
Sam flexed his fingers as he turned onto Fox Lane. Sweaty palms? He angled the rearview mirror and glanced at his reflection. He’d nicked his jaw trying for a closer shave than usual and the creases fanning from the corners of his eyes were pronounced due to a sleepless night. He swore he spied a gray hair and that it had sprouted just this morning compliments of a war raging between Ben and Mina.
In truth, aside from the shaving injury, Sam looked like he did every day. He’d never been leading-man handsome. Not even ten years and two kids ago. He’d always been rough around the edges. Solidly built with rugged features. Although some women—like Paula—went for the unconventional. Other
“Sure.”
“Maybe after, we can take a joyride through the state park.”
His lip twitched. “Maybe.” He turned his attention back to the list. “Hey. My granddaughter Peppy is listed.”
Peppy Redding would be another tough nut. Mostly because she was such an odd bird. A songwriting guitar player who’d flitted all over the country trying to hitch her wagon to a star. Struggling financially, she’d returned to the home roost, temporarily living with her dad, Vincent’s son Marvin, and taking up with a local band. All Daisy really knew was that Peppy was a disappointment to her father and a source of concern for Vincent.
“Why is my granddaughter on your family bucket list?” he asked.
Now it was Daisy’s turn to frown. “I guess I assumed, given our … situation, well, I thought … Don’t you think of my family as your own?”
“I’m fond of everyone, of course. But I guarantee they don’t think of me as family.”
“Sure they do.”
Vincent tossed her a skeptical look.
“Okay. Maybe not my son. And maybe not Devlin.” Her eldest grandson was practically a chip off his old man’s block, both of them being overprotective stick-in-the-muds.
“It would be easier if we made our situation legal.”
“Why ruin a good thing?”
Vincent sighed. “More coffee?”
She’d hurt his feelings. Again. But darn it all, she’d already been that route with Jessup. It’s not that he’d abused her, but he’d strangled her spirit, manipulated her behavior, narrowed her scope. Daisy didn’t believe in divorce. And she’d feel bad about kicking a man out. If things turned sour with Vincent, she needed to be able to walk away. Just one of the reasons she’d moved out of her home and into his. It gave her the freedom to leave. Life was short and freedom was priceless.
“I’ll do it,” Vincent said as he stood to clear the table.
Daisy snapped out of her reverie. “You’ll cut back on work to help me with my family bucket list?”
“Yup.”
“Just like that?”
“Nope.”
Daisy shot to her moose-slippered feet, snatched up her dishes, and shuffled to his side. “What’s that mean?” she asked as he filled the basin with hot water and a squirt of Palmolive.
“Means you owe me.”
Daisy slid their dishes into the sudsy water. “What are we talking?”
His fleshy lips twitched into an ornery smile that sort of scared and excited Daisy at the same time. “When I know, Princess Petunia, you’ll know.”
SEVEN
Sam steered his truck along Swamp Road at a leisurely pace. Unlike last night, he wasn’t racing to Harper’s rescue. He was picking her up for a date. Their first date. Considering he’d already proposed marriage, they were going at this bassackward. Then again their short association had an overall slam-bam theme. From their adrenaline-surged initial meeting to their subsequent erotic liaisons. Sam had caressed, sampled, and admired every inch of Harper Day’s delectable body, yet he didn’t know anything about her beyond the obvious. That wouldn’t go well with immigration and it didn’t sit right with Sam. Today they’d take it slow. Today they’d talk. As in a meaningful two-sided conversation.
“This should be good.”
It would definitely be a first.
Sam flexed his fingers as he turned onto Fox Lane. Sweaty palms? He angled the rearview mirror and glanced at his reflection. He’d nicked his jaw trying for a closer shave than usual and the creases fanning from the corners of his eyes were pronounced due to a sleepless night. He swore he spied a gray hair and that it had sprouted just this morning compliments of a war raging between Ben and Mina.
In truth, aside from the shaving injury, Sam looked like he did every day. He’d never been leading-man handsome. Not even ten years and two kids ago. He’d always been rough around the edges. Solidly built with rugged features. Although some women—like Paula—went for the unconventional. Other
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