Read Online Mine 'Til Monday by Ruby Laska - Free Book Online Page A

a T-shirt, but for today she’d taken pains to choose something from Finesse’s latest collection, a stylish skirt and coordinating tank in white trimmed with navy.
    It was only 8:00 am, but when she woke half an hour earlier, the charming cottage was empty. Mud’s door was open a few inches, and Dorothy had peeked inside: bed made, drapes open to let the sun in. No doubt he was out jogging. He seemed like the jogging type. In fact Dorothy could easily imagine him in nylon shorts, moving easily through the sun-dappled paths that crisscrossed Miranda’s estate, a little bit of sweat glistening at his temple as his strong legs took the terrain in long strides...
    Dorothy had splashed cold water on her face, and pinched her cheeks for good measure, before grimacing at her image in the mirror. They’d survived the first night. Now she just had to focus on keeping it going.
    And so she’d made the short trip down the flagstone path connecting the cottage to the back of the house, ready to spend a little time one-on-one with Miranda, furthering her case.
    Inside, she could hear the sound of voices and clinking china, along with the strains of Vivaldi playing softly in the background. Dorothy took a deep breath and stepped into the solarium.
    “Mornin’, sweet pea.”
    Mud. Sitting cozily at the linen-draped iron table with Miranda, the two of them still grinning from some shared joke.
    Dorothy glanced from one to the other, her stomach doing flip-flops. This she hadn’t expected. She’d rehearsed this breakfast carefully, but she’d planned to arrive first. If Mud showed up at all, he was to be no more than an accessory.
    “Um, good morning,” she murmured, sliding into the chair closest to Miranda.
    “Ooo, no no no no, dear—sit with your sweetheart!” Miranda exclaimed. “Daphne, do be a dear, won’t you, and bring some coffee for Miss Albright?”
    Out of nowhere a uniformed woman appeared with a white porcelain coffee pot. Feeling the color spotting her cheeks, Dorothy obediently changed chairs, sliding in next to Mud. The iron grillwork felt cold and uncomfortable next to the bare skin of her thighs.
    “Hi, Sugar.”
    Mud’s voice was low and thick as syrup as he leaned over, eyes closed and lips puckered. Dorothy’s eyes widened, but there was nothing else to do but comply. She brushed his lips with her own, swiftly, and turned her attention to arranging her napkin in her lap.
    “Dang, girl, I’ve had dogs that kissed better than that,” Mud complained.
    Under the table Dorothy felt his hand close on her knee and give a playful squeeze. It was all she could do to keep from jumping out of her seat; his hand was warm and rough and lingered just a moment too long before he reclaimed it.
    “Dempsey and I were just gossiping,” Miranda confided, as she filled a plate with sliced strawberries and a muffin and passed it to Dorothy. “We seem to know a few of the same folks in the golf world.”
    “Now ma’am, you just call me Mud. Everyone does.”
    Miranda giggled, and lowered her lids coquettishly. Dorothy couldn’t believe it. So not even elegant dowagers were immune to him. Surely the good old boy act would lose its charm, however, as the day wore on. It was up to her to steer things back on course.
    “Of course you must take everything he says with a grain of salt,” she said, forcing what she hoped was an indulgent smile to her lips. Glancing at Mud, she added, “Now that he has a successful business to run there isn’t much time for his old acquaintances.”
    “No, I should imagine not,” Miranda said, then winked at Dorothy. “Especially since you have won his heart, my dear.”
    Dorothy simmered slowly, wondering if that was a reference the female variety of old acquaintance that Mud had once been known for. Well, she couldn’t help that; Miranda kept up with the sporting world. At least she seemed to be delighted with their pairing.
    But even Miranda’s obvious enjoyment of Mud made