Read Online Sleeping Alone by Barbara Bretton - Free Book Online Page A

For a moment she missed her silver tea service, the china plates so translucent you could see your hand reflected through them, the linen napkins imported from Ireland. Those things were wonderful, but they belonged to her old life and she was better off without them.
    She’d thought that escaping to the kitchen would help her regain her equilibrium, but she felt as dizzy and disoriented as she had in Gallagher’s arms. Get over it, she told herself sternly. This was her problem, not his. She wasn’t blind. She’d picked up on the chemistry between him and Dee at the diner. For all she knew they were having a torrid affair. Maybe they were even married to each other. Anything was possible. These people were strangers to her. She didn’t know the first thing about them, and they didn’t know the first thing about her, which was exactly the way she wanted it.
    She took the plate of cookies off the tray, then carried the coffee into the living room.
    “Sorry I took so long,” she said, placing the tray on the table in front of the sofa. “I’m still not used to that stove.”
    “What’s wrong with it?” John asked. He was standing by the window.
    “It’s a little fluky but—”
    “I’ll take a look at it.” He started toward the kitchen.
    “No!” The word sounded angry, but she wasn’t angry at all. She simply didn’t want anyone getting any closer. Especially not him. She tried to soften her outburst with a smile. “I mean, that’s not necessary. I’m sure the stove and I will reach an accommodation.”
    “Johnny’s good with his hands,” Eddie said from the chair in front of the TV. “He can fix anything.”
    Another wave of heat flooded her chest as she remembered exactly how good those hands had felt as they’d held her. “Really,” she said. “I’m not going to impose on either one of you. If I need something done, I’ll hire a professional.”
    “Tell her, Johnny,” Eddie persisted. “He rebuilt the carburetor on—”
    “Drop it, Pop,” John broke in. “You heard her. She said she’ll take care of it.”
    “That’s right,” she said, vaguely annoyed. “It’s my responsibility.”
    “I think we’d better shove off,” John said to his father. He was acting as if she weren’t even there.
    “I could use that cup of coffee,” Eddie said.
    “Pop.” John aimed a thumb toward the door. “Let’s go.”
    “What’s the rush?” his father complained. “I’ve never seen you turn down a cup of joe.”
    “Feel free to leave,” Alex said to John in a sharp tone of voice. This was her home. Nobody was going to make her feel invisible within her own four walls. “I’ll make sure Mr. Gallagher gets home safely.”
    John looked at Eddie. Eddie looked at Bailey. Bailey looked at the pot of coffee. At least someone appreciated her effort.
    “You know what?” Alex bent down and picked up a mug. “I don’t care if either one of you drinks my coffee.” She took a long sip. “It’s delicious, by the way.” The two men were staring at her as if she’d lost her mind. Let them stare, she thought. She could do what she wanted in her own home.
    Eddie hesitated, then grabbed a mug for himself. “You’re right,” he said to Alex. “This is damn fine coffee.”
    His son shrugged and claimed the last cup. He took a sip, then nodded. “Not bad.”
    She inclined her head. “Thank you. Maybe I can take over coffee-making duties at the Starlight.”
    “You got the job?” Eddie asked her.
    She nodded, her good spirits returning as quickly as they had vanished. “I got the job.”
    “How the hell did Dee get hold of Nick so fast?” Eddie wondered out loud. “I thought he was away on some kind of vacation.”
    John looked uncomfortable. “Hey, Pop, let Dee worry about running the diner.”
    “You don’t think it’s a mistake, do you?” Alex asked, suddenly struck with the terrible notion that she might not have the job after all. “Maybe I misunderstood.”
    “You spoke