Read Online Just The Way You Are by Barbara Freethy - Free Book Online
Authors: Barbara Freethy
Tags: Contemporary
Ads: Link
her. "She's suffered a trauma."
"It's been twenty-four hours since it happened. I think that's long enough to sleep, especially for Grams. She never sleeps. I talked to her, trying to get her interested enough to open her eyes and look at me, but she just wouldn't. It's so frustrating."
Sam looked at the clock on the wall, suddenly realizing it was after five. He'd meant to get back to the hospital but he'd let the work take over his mind, relieved to have something constructive to focus on. "When did you see your grandmother?"
"About an hour ago. William was still there. I don't think he's left her side all day." Alli cleared her throat and looked down at her shoes. "Apparently, he lent Tessa his car so she could go back to the house and rest."
Sam nodded, wary of Tessa's entrance into the conversation.
"I'd like to go back tonight, but I don't want to take Megan there again," Alli said. "She needs to be at home, watching television, playing, being normal. I don't want her worrying about Grams."
"I'll stay with her."
Alli hesitated. "At the house?"
"At our house," he said pointedly. "Of course."
"I didn't know if it would be uncomfortable for you to be there."
"It's uncomfortable for me to not be there," he said shortly.
"I told you I would leave and you could stay, Sam."
"And I told you it was better for Megan to be with her mother in her own house, her own bedroom. I still feel that way."
"Well, thank you,"
"Would you stop being so fucking polite?" he shouted, fed up with their conversation.
"Polite? You're angry with me for being polite?" she asked in amazement. "That's a switch. Didn't you call me selfish, childish? Now I'm in trouble for acting like a polite adult? I can't win, can I?"
For some reason he was relieved to see the sparkle come back into her eyes, the color sweep across her cheeks. She looked alive again. She looked like Alli.
"I'm the one who can't win," he said. "You get pregnant, so I marry you. But that's not enough. I work like a dog to make a life for us, but I don't spend enough time with you. I take care of you and watch over you, but because I don't send you love letters, I'm a bastard."
"I never asked for love letters. I asked for love," she cried, stepping forward as she shook her finger in his face. "Not once, Sam Tucker—not once have you ever said I love you."
Her wedding ring caught in the fading sunlight and sent sparks dancing off the wall, blinding him with memories. So she hadn't taken it off. He couldn't hear what she was saying. He couldn't remember what he was going to say, because her face was too close and her breath came in gasps that reminded him of the way she breathed when they made love.
He felt himself lean forward and saw her do the same. Suddenly her mouth was in reach, her lips were under his, and she tasted like his best dream, his best meal, his best kiss.
And she kissed him back. Her lips opened under his and he slipped his tongue between the seam before she had a chance to shut him out, before she remembered that she didn't like him and he didn't love her. But this wasn't about thinking, it was about feeling, wanting, taking, and he took, kissing her again and again, his body hardening with each taste, his hands seeking her soft curves.
She seemed to melt into him like a sail catching a breeze, going along for the ride, for the simple thrill of it all. It was so easy, so freeing, so—over.
Alli shoved him away hard, her hair flying around her face, tangled from his fingers, her eyes glittering with desire, with fear. "What the hell are we doing?"
It was a good question. A damned good question. He just wished he had an answer. The silence went on too long as he wrestled with an explanation.
"Let's just forget that happened," she said finally, crossing her arms in front of her chest, then uncrossing them, as she shifted from one foot to the other. "What time will you come to the house?"
"What time do you want me?"
"I don't want you," she burst
"It's been twenty-four hours since it happened. I think that's long enough to sleep, especially for Grams. She never sleeps. I talked to her, trying to get her interested enough to open her eyes and look at me, but she just wouldn't. It's so frustrating."
Sam looked at the clock on the wall, suddenly realizing it was after five. He'd meant to get back to the hospital but he'd let the work take over his mind, relieved to have something constructive to focus on. "When did you see your grandmother?"
"About an hour ago. William was still there. I don't think he's left her side all day." Alli cleared her throat and looked down at her shoes. "Apparently, he lent Tessa his car so she could go back to the house and rest."
Sam nodded, wary of Tessa's entrance into the conversation.
"I'd like to go back tonight, but I don't want to take Megan there again," Alli said. "She needs to be at home, watching television, playing, being normal. I don't want her worrying about Grams."
"I'll stay with her."
Alli hesitated. "At the house?"
"At our house," he said pointedly. "Of course."
"I didn't know if it would be uncomfortable for you to be there."
"It's uncomfortable for me to not be there," he said shortly.
"I told you I would leave and you could stay, Sam."
"And I told you it was better for Megan to be with her mother in her own house, her own bedroom. I still feel that way."
"Well, thank you,"
"Would you stop being so fucking polite?" he shouted, fed up with their conversation.
"Polite? You're angry with me for being polite?" she asked in amazement. "That's a switch. Didn't you call me selfish, childish? Now I'm in trouble for acting like a polite adult? I can't win, can I?"
For some reason he was relieved to see the sparkle come back into her eyes, the color sweep across her cheeks. She looked alive again. She looked like Alli.
"I'm the one who can't win," he said. "You get pregnant, so I marry you. But that's not enough. I work like a dog to make a life for us, but I don't spend enough time with you. I take care of you and watch over you, but because I don't send you love letters, I'm a bastard."
"I never asked for love letters. I asked for love," she cried, stepping forward as she shook her finger in his face. "Not once, Sam Tucker—not once have you ever said I love you."
Her wedding ring caught in the fading sunlight and sent sparks dancing off the wall, blinding him with memories. So she hadn't taken it off. He couldn't hear what she was saying. He couldn't remember what he was going to say, because her face was too close and her breath came in gasps that reminded him of the way she breathed when they made love.
He felt himself lean forward and saw her do the same. Suddenly her mouth was in reach, her lips were under his, and she tasted like his best dream, his best meal, his best kiss.
And she kissed him back. Her lips opened under his and he slipped his tongue between the seam before she had a chance to shut him out, before she remembered that she didn't like him and he didn't love her. But this wasn't about thinking, it was about feeling, wanting, taking, and he took, kissing her again and again, his body hardening with each taste, his hands seeking her soft curves.
She seemed to melt into him like a sail catching a breeze, going along for the ride, for the simple thrill of it all. It was so easy, so freeing, so—over.
Alli shoved him away hard, her hair flying around her face, tangled from his fingers, her eyes glittering with desire, with fear. "What the hell are we doing?"
It was a good question. A damned good question. He just wished he had an answer. The silence went on too long as he wrestled with an explanation.
"Let's just forget that happened," she said finally, crossing her arms in front of her chest, then uncrossing them, as she shifted from one foot to the other. "What time will you come to the house?"
"What time do you want me?"
"I don't want you," she burst
Similar Books
