Read Online Just Fooling Around: Darcy's Dark Day/Reg's Rescue\Cam's Catastrophe/Devon's Dilemma by Julie Kenner, Kathleen O'Reilly - Free Book Online
Authors: Julie Kenner, Kathleen O'Reilly
Tags: Fiction, General, Romance, Contemporary, Adult, Fiction - Romance, Romance - Contemporary, Romance - General, Romance: Modern
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husband. “Promise us you’ll be careful?”
“I already have,” Darcy said. “But if it’ll make you feel better, I’ll promise again. If you have any of those old family documents that Reg is always digging up, I’ll even swear on those. I’ll do whatever you want to make you believe I’ll be safe—except spend the daylocked up in here with you,” she added, as Cam started to open his mouth.
“At least stay for breakfast,” Jenna said. “You brought the bagels. I can scramble some eggs, fry up some sausage.”
Darcy shook her head. “No, thanks. I want to get going. I just—” She cut herself off. She couldn’t exactly admit that she’d done this on purpose, coming here today, knowing that he’d spend the long hours worried about her. She’d come, because it would have that much more impact when she survived the day unscathed. Afterward, it’s just a story. Knowing before had meant her brother would be involved, too. And maybe this would finally convince him.
Maybe, she thought. But as she glanced ruefully at his raised ankle, she had to admit she doubted that he’d ever become a non-believer.
It took another twenty minutes for Darcy to extricate herself from her brother and sister-in-law, and that included fifteen for more arguing and five to search for her driver’s license, even though she could have sworn she’d put it back in her pocket. She finally found it in the cushions of a nearby armchair that she didn’t even remember sitting in. She took two long gulps of the now cold coffee, dribbled enough on her white shirt that she had to beg a replacement from Jenna and finally managed to get out the door and breathe a sigh of relief that at nine forty-five, her day was about to begin.
And, dammit, it was a day that promised to be curse-free, carefree and fun.
The elevator did not stick as she descended to the lobby from Cameron’s apartment. She didn’t slip on thenewly waxed floor, and no armed thug rushed the building, prepared to take everyone in the lobby hostage. In fact, the first few moments away from her big brother were so uniquely dull and uneventful that she half considered calling him from the house phone and telling him that a flock of angry penguins had stormed the building, knocked her over and now her picture was going to be splashed all over the front page of the Post with a decadent headline about how an MIT Ph.D. candidate was caught in a torrid penguin lovefest in the lobby of one of Manhattan’s most exclusive apartment buildings.
Or maybe not.
She shifted, intending to swing her purse over her arm, then realized she didn’t have a purse. She patted her back pocket, feeling her driver’s license and the fifty-dollar bill that Cam had handed her. She didn’t even realize she’d been glancing down as she stepped past the doorman until she glanced back up and felt the sharp stab to her heart. Not the bad you’ve-been-mugged-on-the-streets-of-Manhattan kind of stab, but the good man-of-your-fantasies-staring-right-at-you kind of stab. The kind that’s hot and cold at the same time and makes your skin go all prickly and your knees go week and your mouth go dry.
The kind of stab that Darcy got whenever she looked at Evan Olsen—and this time, he was looking right back.
He stood for a moment—and for one exquisite instant it seemed that he was as desperate for her as she was for him—then a wide grin broke out across his face, and the desire she’d imagined shifted into the familiar, friendly expression she’d seen so many times on her big brother’s best friend’s face. “Darcy! Hey! I’m so glad I caught you.”
Hope fluttered through her, and she took a step toward him, intending to speak, but no words coming out because her mouth was suddenly full of cotton. Or sandpaper. Or sandpaper wrapped in cotton.
“Darcy?”
She coughed. “Sorry. Thinking. I’ve been working on this algorithm, and—”
“And suddenly the blank expression makes tons of
“I already have,” Darcy said. “But if it’ll make you feel better, I’ll promise again. If you have any of those old family documents that Reg is always digging up, I’ll even swear on those. I’ll do whatever you want to make you believe I’ll be safe—except spend the daylocked up in here with you,” she added, as Cam started to open his mouth.
“At least stay for breakfast,” Jenna said. “You brought the bagels. I can scramble some eggs, fry up some sausage.”
Darcy shook her head. “No, thanks. I want to get going. I just—” She cut herself off. She couldn’t exactly admit that she’d done this on purpose, coming here today, knowing that he’d spend the long hours worried about her. She’d come, because it would have that much more impact when she survived the day unscathed. Afterward, it’s just a story. Knowing before had meant her brother would be involved, too. And maybe this would finally convince him.
Maybe, she thought. But as she glanced ruefully at his raised ankle, she had to admit she doubted that he’d ever become a non-believer.
It took another twenty minutes for Darcy to extricate herself from her brother and sister-in-law, and that included fifteen for more arguing and five to search for her driver’s license, even though she could have sworn she’d put it back in her pocket. She finally found it in the cushions of a nearby armchair that she didn’t even remember sitting in. She took two long gulps of the now cold coffee, dribbled enough on her white shirt that she had to beg a replacement from Jenna and finally managed to get out the door and breathe a sigh of relief that at nine forty-five, her day was about to begin.
And, dammit, it was a day that promised to be curse-free, carefree and fun.
The elevator did not stick as she descended to the lobby from Cameron’s apartment. She didn’t slip on thenewly waxed floor, and no armed thug rushed the building, prepared to take everyone in the lobby hostage. In fact, the first few moments away from her big brother were so uniquely dull and uneventful that she half considered calling him from the house phone and telling him that a flock of angry penguins had stormed the building, knocked her over and now her picture was going to be splashed all over the front page of the Post with a decadent headline about how an MIT Ph.D. candidate was caught in a torrid penguin lovefest in the lobby of one of Manhattan’s most exclusive apartment buildings.
Or maybe not.
She shifted, intending to swing her purse over her arm, then realized she didn’t have a purse. She patted her back pocket, feeling her driver’s license and the fifty-dollar bill that Cam had handed her. She didn’t even realize she’d been glancing down as she stepped past the doorman until she glanced back up and felt the sharp stab to her heart. Not the bad you’ve-been-mugged-on-the-streets-of-Manhattan kind of stab, but the good man-of-your-fantasies-staring-right-at-you kind of stab. The kind that’s hot and cold at the same time and makes your skin go all prickly and your knees go week and your mouth go dry.
The kind of stab that Darcy got whenever she looked at Evan Olsen—and this time, he was looking right back.
He stood for a moment—and for one exquisite instant it seemed that he was as desperate for her as she was for him—then a wide grin broke out across his face, and the desire she’d imagined shifted into the familiar, friendly expression she’d seen so many times on her big brother’s best friend’s face. “Darcy! Hey! I’m so glad I caught you.”
Hope fluttered through her, and she took a step toward him, intending to speak, but no words coming out because her mouth was suddenly full of cotton. Or sandpaper. Or sandpaper wrapped in cotton.
“Darcy?”
She coughed. “Sorry. Thinking. I’ve been working on this algorithm, and—”
“And suddenly the blank expression makes tons of
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