Read Online Love Songs by Bernadette Marie - Free Book Online Page B

didn’t look much different. Though, had he brought her to his house, he’d have been running amuck trying to pick up everything. Clara embraced her individuality, he decided, because she didn’t seem to worry what he might think. And he thought the mess was lovely.
    Clara turned to him and smiled. “You’re eyeballing my mess.”
    “I am not.”
    “Yes you are. You think I’m a pig. My mother always warned me that someday…”
    “I didn’t take you to my house, did I?” He laughed. “Your room looks fine.”
    “I have too much to do to worry about duvets and pillow shams.”
    “Do whats?”
    Now she laughed. “Nothing.” She moved in closer to him. “I know this seems silly. And I’d understand if you’d want to go.”
    “Why would I want to go?”
    “Because I don’t have sex with men I only met.”
    Warner took a step back to distance himself from her. “You said sleep over and that was all. Clara, I’m not the kind of man…”
    She moved into him again. “I know you’re not. That’s why I asked you to stay.” She rose up on her toes and pressed a kiss to his lips.
    Being trusted wasn’t something he dealt with a lot. He usually hid from any reason to be trusted. There was always the chance he’d let someone down.
    Clara picked up an old T-shirt and a pair of shorts off the pile on the chair. “I’m going to go change. I could find something for you to sleep in if you’d like. Christian should have…”
    “No,” he interrupted thinking that borrowing her brother’s pajama bottoms was certainly crossing the line. “The boxers I have on are new, no holes.” He laughed. “If you’re comfortable that will work for me.”
    Clara grinned and her cheeks flushed pink. She nodded and headed to the bathroom with her pajamas.
    When the door had closed he went about getting undressed. Maybe if he were in bed, covered up, it would ease her.
    He toed off his boots and pulled off his socks, stuffing them into the boots. He shimmied out of his jeans and pulled off his T-shirt then folded them nicely and set them on the floor in a tidy pile.
    Warner quickly fixed the sheets on the bed and climbed in as the bathroom door opened.
    As awkward as she looked trying to be normal, he knew Clara Keller wasn’t used to bringing men home.
    She turned off the light and climbed into the bed next to him. She turned to face him. “Thank you for staying with me. John turning off the lights shouldn’t have set me off like that.”
    Warner caressed her face. “You went though some serious trauma. I don’t blame you for freaking out. I don’t think you ever get over that moment when your life flashes before your eyes.”
    Clara smiled and rested her head against his chest. “You’re right. You never do.”
    He pulled her closer to him. She rested her head against his chest and he held her. A week ago he didn’t know what he was doing with his life. Now he wondered if music was his calling at all? Or had it just been the force that brought him to Clara Keller? He kissed the top of her head.
    This was what he wanted more than to hear his song on the radio. How could his dreams have changed so quickly?
     
    The next morning Warner drove Clara back to the theater and went on his way home. He had the urge to clean house because after holding Clara all night in his arms, he wanted to make that a normal occurrence.
    As Warner pulled up in front of the small building which looked like a house with four small apartments, he saw a black BMW pull away. He parked in the spot the car had occupied, turned off the overworked engine, and climbed out of the truck.
    Warner rubbed his eyes under his sunglasses. He was tired. He shouldn’t be, he’d gotten a full night’s sleep for the first time in weeks. At least his current unemployment offered him time for a nap.
    He climbed the steps to the second level of the quad-plex and walked to the dull red door with the number two nailed to it. A bright yellow piece of paper