Read Online Sleeping Arrangements (Silhouette Desire) by Amy Jo Cousins - Free Book Online Page B

like gusts of giant snowflakes. “Does she think I’m living in a damn gothic romance novel? Crazy witch!”
    She’d read the will for the first time and told herself thatit was sheer curiosity that kept her going past the first page. But at two in the morning, the only soul awake in a quiet house, Addy admitted to herself that she’d hoped…hoped to come across some loophole, some way out that would let her keep this house. Because she wanted it. Wanted it with a passion that she knew came from years of feeling the monetary tightrope wobble beneath her feet as a child.
    When she was eleven years old, she knew how to balance a checkbook. How to deposit her mother’s meager paychecks and write out payments for the monthly bills, leaving them waiting on the kitchen table for her mother’s signature when she came home from another late shift at the hospital. She knew each month how close to the edge her family came, how each time one of her siblings outgrew a pair of gym shoes, paying the rent became a juggling act.
    When her high school friends had spun fantasies about winning the lottery and going on shopping sprees, she’d always said the same thing: “I’d buy a house.” So no one could take it away, were the unspoken words that echoed in her mind each time.
    And now here she was, her childhood fantasy dropped into her lap as if a fairy godmother had waved her wand and granted her fondest wish.
    And she couldn’t keep it.
    Loopholes. She should have known better. Should have known that an attorney like Reed wouldn’t allow any such laxity in a document he’d drafted. Even knowing he’d been obligated to do so, that he hadn’t even known who she was at the time, Addy couldn’t help resenting him just a little bit.
    What kind of lawyer let his client write up something as ridiculous as this antiquated blackmail trap of a will?
    The light didn’t get any brighter outside of her windows. The sun wouldn’t creep over the winter horizon until after she’d arrived at her office. But by four in the morning, having counted the number of rose clusters on the floral wallpaper on the facing wall—three hundred and twenty-six, thank you very much—she had to get out of that house.
    She dressed without making a sound. Crept down the stairs and stopped for a moment to rip a sheet of paper out of her site notebook and scribble a note, which she left on the marble-topped table by the front door.
    She heard the whuff of rough breathing and the creak of the floorboards at the same moment.
    “Jesus, Elwood,” she gusted, and the dog shoved a cold nose into her palm. “I thought you were a cat burglar.” She scratched the dog roughly behind the ears as he leaned heavily against her leg. “You be quiet now.”
    She patted him one last time and then let herself silently out the front door. Trudging a path through the newly pristine snow, she ignored the cold and refused to look back at the house she felt looming behind her.
    It was a dream of a house, meant for a dreamlike fantasy life. But that wasn’t her life. And it was time to head into work.
     
    Spencer stood at the window, watching Addy’s bundled form stride determinedly through the drifts and out the front gate. At least she wouldn’t have to battle ice and snow before hitting the road. He’d gone outside nearly an hour before and cleaned off her truck, clearing enough snow to make sure she could get going this morning with ease.
    He’d known, somehow, that she wouldn’t come and ask him to help her, no matter what she’d threatened. If there was one thing he’d figured out about this woman, it was that she’d as soon chew her own hand off before sticking it out to ask for help.
    He wasn’t surprised either that she’d left without waiting for morning or breakfast or to say goodbye. The naked look of desire in her eyes as she’d wandered from room to room hadn’t been as successfully shuttered as the rest of her emotions. It would hurt her to stay