Read Online Out of Exile by Carla Cassidy - Free Book Online

because the moment he’d tasted that heat, he’d wanted more. He’d wanted to tangle his fingers in the rich spill of her hair. He’d wanted to rip her clothes off and bury himself in her. And that was not only a threat, it was a clear danger to them both.
    He juggled the boxes in his arms and focused his attention away from her. They had been working for the past hour to get Clara settled in and only had her rocking chair left to carry from the main house to her new place.
    â€œWhew!” Lilly exclaimed as she dropped the box she’d been carrying onto the sofa. “It’s a good thing Aunt Clara decided to make this move after she had that estate sale.”
    Matthew set the boxes he’d been carrying down on the floor and tried not to notice how the blue tank top she wore emphasized the brilliant, matching color of her eyes.
    â€œShe’ll have everything she needs here,” he replied. “And what she doesn’t have that she thinks she needs, we’ll get.” She nodded and sent him one of her warm smiles that stirred something rich, yet painful in the very pit of his stomach.
    He looked away from her and swiped his hand through his hair. “We’d better get that rocking chair in here because I have other things to do around here besides this.”
    He sensed her gaze on him and knew he had probably surprised her by the sharpness of his tone. Good. Better she learn that he was a miserable son-of-a-gun and kept her distance from him. That would certainly be best for both of them.
    â€œFine, let’s go get the chair. Then we’re finished here,” she said.
    â€œYou know, I could get somebody else to help me carry this,” Matthew said when they’d returned to the main house and were about to pick up the rocking chair. “It’s solid and really heavy.”
    â€œDon’t be silly,” she scoffed. She tucked a strand of her long, dark shiny hair behind her ear in a gesture he was finding more and more familiar.
    She’d done it often when she’d been young. When in deep thought or slightly nervous or troubled, her fingers moved to tuck her hair. “I’m here now and I can help,” she continued. “Between the two of us we should be able to get it with no problem.”
    Matthew directed her to grab the top of the platform rocker, and he picked up the bottom, where thebulk of the weight was, and together they maneuvered it out the front door.
    â€œDid you know this rocker used to belong to your grandmother?” she asked. She didn’t wait for his reply, but continued. “This chair is Aunt Clara’s most prized possession. It’s the only thing she has from her mother.”
    â€œAt least she has something,” he replied.
    Lilly’s eyes were soft and achingly blue as she gazed at him. “You don’t have anything from your mother?” she asked.
    A tight band encircled Matthew’s chest. He rarely thought about his mother, Leah, who had died giving birth to Johnna.
    Matthew had been five at the time of her death, old enough to have some memories of the beautiful, dark-haired woman. He still remembered the scent of her, a whisper of lilac. And he still remembered how she looked with her eye swollen nearly shut or her lip cut and bloody.
    Aware of Lilly’s curious gaze on him, he frowned. “No, I don’t have anything from her. The day after her funeral, my father packed up everything that had belonged to her and had it hauled away.”
    They reached the cottage and maneuvered the rocker through the door and set it on the floor. Again she tucked an errant strand of hair behind her ear and gazed at him. “Your father must have been grieving horribly,” she said.
    It irritated him, how she automatically assumedhis father’s motives for getting rid of Leah’s things had been born of something good and sterling.
    â€œNo. He didn’t do it out of grief.