Read Online Second Thoughts: A Hot Baseball Romance by Mindy Klasky - Free Book Online Page A

while?”
    “Break the rules?” she typed. “Now THAT sounds interesting. The only rule I’m breaking this morning is having extra milk in my chai while I slave over a new project.”
    There. Response sent. Back to work. She included a close-up of Robert’s workstation, his neat trays of makeup with the array of brushes like a black-and-white rainbow. Another shot—the backdrop behind Anna Benson’s desk, complete with lights and reflectors.
    Chime. Buzz, buzz, buzz.
    RoadWarrior said, “What project?”
    She hesitated before she typed back. She didn’t want to tell him she was a photographer. There weren’t a lot of professional photographers locally, and she wanted to preserve her anonymity a little bit longer. RoadWarrior could still be an axe murderer, even if he wrote interesting posts to TrueLove. Maybe even especially because he wrote interesting posts to TrueLove.
    She typed, “Just some web design stuff. Publicity, promotion, blah, blah, blah. What do you do when you aren’t playing hooky?”
    God, that had to be the most boring text she’d ever typed. Wasn’t she supposed to be flirty? Engaging? Seductive, with the mere power of her words?
    She got another inbox alert, though. She hadn’t driven RoadWarrior away. Yet. “Drive around Raleigh in my Rolls Royce, dropping hundred-dollar bills out the window as I contemplate how to reconfigure my trust funds.”
    She wrinkled her nose as another text came through.
    “Isn’t that what women want to hear about? Rich guys who don’t have a care in the world?”
    “Absolutely,” she typed, laughing. “That, or men who spend their time taking care of orphaned chickadees at the wildlife center, rubbing their Birkenstocks down to nothing as they complete cross-country treks to raise funds for the endangered black-nosed snoot.”
    “Huh. I lose on both fronts. What I’m really doing is trying to figure out how to avoid folding laundry.”
    “You could come over here. I’m avoiding changing the oil in my car.”
    There was a long pause, and she wondered if she’d said something wrong. Change the oil… Did that have some sexual connotation? Was he turned off by something she hadn’t even meant to say? Or was it the offhand way she’d invited him to drop by. What had she been thinking? She wouldn’t tell him her job because he might be a serial killer, but she was hinting for him to swing by her home ?
    She started to type an apology, but a message came through before she could string together the words. “Sorry,” he said. “I’m being dragged into a meeting. Chat later?”
    “Later,” she typed.
    She was surprised at the disappointment that settled over her. Just as she turned back to work, though, her computer signaled one more TrueLove message.
    “Truth: I’m totally into skinny-dipping.”
    The message shot straight to her belly. She and Nick had gone skinny-dipping once. They’d sneaked off campus one fall weekend, rented a motel room in a little ocean-side town.
    The water had been freezing, but Nick had wrapped his arms around her. His deep kiss had lit a fire in her belly, and he’d kept her playing in the surf, playing with him , even after her teeth had started to chatter. Only when the chattering turned to full-body shudders had they scrambled back to their motel room, barely wrapped in tiny white towels.
    She’d insisted they take a quick shower together before climbing into bed; she wasn’t about to put up with sandy sheets for the rest of the night. Nick’s mouth had been hot on hers as the shower steamed around them… His hands had scalded her, making wicked patterns against her flesh before she could reach for practical things like soap and shampoo and conditioner. When they finally made it to the bed, she’d pulled the covers over her head and squirmed down the blazing length of his body…
    Forget it .
    That had been the start of senior year. Well before graduation. Well before Nick had walked away.
    She lied as she