Read Online In the Mood for Love by Beth Ciotta - Free Book Online Page B

women—like the several he’d speed-dated last month—seemed enamored by his single-dad status. They praised his devotion to his children, thought it was admirable and sexy. He should have been charmed or at least intrigued. They’d expressed motherly tendencies as well as interest in Sam’s hobbies and goals. They’d probed to find his softer side, attempted to connect emotionally.
    Unlike Harper who’d only wanted Sam for kinky sex and his mad (as she called them) carpentry skills. Their relationship was this side of warped and yet he’d suggested marriage without a second thought. Without discussing it with the kids first. Typically, he was more grounded, more cautious, more sensitive to the long term.
    Fact: Harper wasn’t keen on being a mom.
    Fact: Harper had no interest in, or was incapable of, an emotionally intimate relationship.
    Hello, train wreck.
    Or maybe not.
    Sam couldn’t shake his discussion with Rae. She’d suggested breaking with convention, being adventurous. Considering future bliss with cayenne pepper as opposed to maple syrup. The military had trained him to rely on his gut and his gut screamed Harper.
    There was also the sense that she was running from someone or something. Yeah. There was that.
    Sam focused back on the road, tensing as the Rothwell Farm came into view. It’s not like he had to impress, seduce, or court the enigmatic publicist. She wasn’t marrying him for his looks, wit, or charm. She was marrying him for a green card. Still, he’d changed clothes three times before deciding on a white open-collar shirt and his go-to-teacher-conference jeans. He hadn’t second-guessed his appearance on any one of a dozen dates he’d been on in the last month. Why he was sweating a sure thing was a mystery.
    Or maybe he was sweating because this was a sure thing.
    Even though he’d spent the night wrestling with a hundred reasons not to marry Harper Day, he had no intention of backing out. He was haunted by that kiss, by the hint of a deeper connection, by the glimpse of a woman with heart. Try as he might, he couldn’t block the image of her fighting back tears and struggling to breathe. That vulnerability had snaked through his blood as sure as her signature perfume.
    It was the image he had in his head as he parked the truck then scaled the porch. An image that shattered as soon as she opened the front door. She was talking on the phone and she held up a finger signaling Sam to give her a minute or ten. Something she’d done a million times before. Just one of her irritating habits.
    “I know I missed the premiere. Yes, of course I know it was a big deal. Sapphire, I…” Harper rolled her eyes and fell back, motioning Sam to step inside.
    Instead of moving into the living room and taking a seat while she finished her business, he hovered in the foyer, making it clear he was waiting. Even so, background chatter prompted him to look into the next room over. The chatter came from the TV—a journalist and a cop.
    Once again Hollywood Access had lost out to CNN.
    Huh.
    Harper continued to pacify her client.
    Sam glanced at his watch. One o’clock. He signaled Harper to wrap the call.
    She turned her back while trying to state her case. Only Sapphire—whoever she was—wouldn’t allow Harper a word in edgewise. The woman—a celebrity client, he assumed—was ripping Harper a new one. Sapphire’s voice was so shrill and loud, Sam heard about every third word, most of them foul. And here he thought only marines utilized fuck as a verb, adjective, and noun.
    “Have I not been there every other time you needed me?” Harper interjected. “What about that glitch with paparazzi? I…”
    Sam stuffed his hands in his pockets, rocked back on his heels, and admired the curvy publicist’s backside. Overall, Harper had a body to die for. Although Sam appreciated her stylish wardrobe, he liked her best in the raw. Call him a dog, but he liked Harper naked. Naked now would be good. He