Read Online Must Like Kids by Jackie Braun - Free Book Online Page A

with him into the old-fashioned elevator. He pulled the gate closed, punched his floor and was grateful that the short elevator ride made conversation unnecessary. The way he was feeling, he was bound to say something foolish.
    His apartment occupied the top floor of a turn-of-the century building that had been updated to include all of the modern amenities, such as a jetted tub, walk-in closets and a gourmet kitchen. Whoever had renovated the place had been smart enough to retain its period charm, keeping intact coffered ceilings, coved moldings and the parquet wood floors that ran throughout.
    The apartment had three bedrooms and two full baths. In addition to garage parking—a luxury in Chicago, especially at lower price points—his unit came with exclusive access to a rooftop deck that afforded spectacular views of Lake Michigan. When he was home in the evenings and when Chicago’s weather cooperated—neither of which happened often enough—he sat up there with a drink, lulled by the fading light that reflected off the big lake’s waves. Maybe tonight, he thought. It had been a long time since he’d allowed himself to truly unwind.
    After unlocking the door, he stepped back to let Julia inside. Given the lemony aroma of furniture polish, he concluded that his cleaning lady had already paid her weekly visit. He dropped his keys on the dust-free console table in the entryway and turned to face Julia. She was frowning.
    “What?” he asked, noting the line that had formed between her eyebrows.
    “This isn’t what I expected.”
    “It’s a little Spartan,” he agreed.
    Alec had never gotten around to hiring a decorator to fill it up with the kind of bric-a-brac and whatnots that made a place appear lived-in.
    “Have you lived here long?”
    “A few years,” he admitted. When he’d signed the initial lease, Alec hadn’t planned to stay in the apartment longer than a year. But time had marched well beyond that deadline. “My accountant keeps after me to purchase a house or condominium.”
    “Good advice.”
    “It makes sense from an investment point of view,” he agreed.
    “But?”
    He shrugged. “I’ve looked. A lot. It’s gotten so that I feel guilty for taking up so much of my real estate agent’s time.”
    “What is it that you’re after?”
    It was a straightforward question, similar to the ones his agent had posed repeatedly. Was Alec after more natural light? Better storage? A high-rise view of the city? Closer proximity to his office? A house with a yard and mature trees in one of the higher-end, established neighborhoods that dotted the lakeshore?
    His answers had been vague, in part because the truth was harder to share. He wanted a house or even a condo that seemed like a home. Unfortunately, he wasn’t sure what a home was supposed to feel like. He’d never really had one, shuttled as he’d been during his boyhood between boarding schools and vacation spots on those rare occasions when he was invited to join his parents. His grandparents’ beach house on Nantucket was as close as he’d come to ever feeling as if he belonged somewhere. Alec still owned the place, though he didn’t get there often now that he lived in Chicago. So, he’d stayed in the apartment, throwing money out the window in the form of rent, or so his accountant complained.
    “What am I looking for?” he repeated Julia’s question now. “I’m not sure, I just know that I haven’t found it yet.”
    “I’d like a house someday,” she said then. “Something north of the city so the kids could play outside without having to make a special trip to a park.”
    “And with a white picket fence around a yard big enough for a golden retriever to run?”
    Alec meant the question to be teasing, but the joke seemed to be on him. The Norman Rockwell-esque picture his words painted was damned appealing...and every bit as foreign as the sporty import he drove.
    “Maybe.” Her smile was lopsided. “Not sure about the