Read Online Smitten Book Club by Colleen Coble, Denise Hunter - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Colleen Coble, Denise Hunter
Tags: Ebook
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about me?”
He reached over and took her hand, then turned it over and rubbed his thumb against her palm. “I was a jerk that night, Heather. You want to know the truth? I was afraid.”
She dared to look up and capture his gaze. It was open, vulnerable. “Afraid?”
“You were different. I thought if I let you get too close, I’d never leave Smitten. I thought real life was out there somewhere, but I was wrong. I want to start over and do this right. I’m not asking for a commitment from you, but can we go out? Maybe see what happens?”
His deep, persuasive voice washed over her. What could be the harm? She could lower her guard just a little. Not all the way, but low enough to peek into his soul and see if he was the man she thought he could be.
“All right,” she said. “We can go for ice cream after dinner.”
“Ice cream?”
“I have to see if you choose the right flavor. I could neverspend time with anyone who ate only vanilla. If we could take a convertible, it would be a perfect ending.”
His smile broadened. “I think I’ll make you wait to find out.”
The beautiful April day lifted Paul’s spirits until he got out of the car and saw what awaited him at the organic farm. Flies buzzed around the large brown mound in the middle of the field.
He saw Heather standing at the edge of the field and hurried to join her. He waved his hand in front of his face. “Phew, that stinks.”
“But it will grow healthy plants.” Heather inhaled deeply. “Nothing like the smell of manure.”
“You are one crazy woman.” He dropped his arm over her shoulders. “Can we go for more ice cream after we get this done? I promise not to order razzmatazz again. I’ll go for something tamer like butter pecan. Or Rocky Road. Am I getting warm?”
“I think they’d run us out when they took one whiff.” A dimple flashed in her right cheek.
Whoa, he hadn’t seen that very often. Maybe he was making headway. Last night had been a blast as he’d sat with Heather and Charlie, licking their cones and talking about everything from politics to their faith. He’d been right. Heather was one in a million. He found himself fascinated by her mind, her moods, and the way she cared about other people.
She picked up a pitchfork. “We’d better get this done.”
“We’re doing it ourselves? I thought I’d hire some help.”
She poked a finger in his side. “Pansy.”
“Masochist.” When she smiled and turned toward the manure pile, he took her by the wrist and pulled her close. “I think I need fortification for the task ahead. A lot of fortification. Let me smell your perfume first.”
She stopped, and a blush touched her cheeks. “I doubt you can smell it. The, um, fertilizer is too strong.”
“Oh, I’d know your scent anywhere.” He touched her cheek, then tangled his fingers in her long blond hair. “I’ve been wanting to do that forever.”
She stilled as if she was afraid to move. He wound her hair around his hand. “Your hair is so silky, and it smells like flowers.”
He bent down and brushed his lips across hers. Her lashes fluttered down, and she leaned in. Her encouragement was all he needed to snake his other arm around her waist and deepen the kiss. She kissed him back, and he was smiling when their lips finally parted.
“I think you’re starting to like me,” he whispered.
Her blue eyes darkened. “You think?”
He nodded but didn’t release her. “Most definitely. And I’m crazy about you, Heather. You can trust me. We’ll move slow, but trust me. I’m not going anywhere.”
She pulled away. “If you say so.” She was still smiling when she moved toward the manure pile. “This isn’t going to get done by itself.”
“It’s going to take us hours,” he groaned. Sighing, he picked up a pitchfork. When was the last time he’d done something like this? Like, never?
She turned back to face him with an impish grin. “You just said you were crazy about
He reached over and took her hand, then turned it over and rubbed his thumb against her palm. “I was a jerk that night, Heather. You want to know the truth? I was afraid.”
She dared to look up and capture his gaze. It was open, vulnerable. “Afraid?”
“You were different. I thought if I let you get too close, I’d never leave Smitten. I thought real life was out there somewhere, but I was wrong. I want to start over and do this right. I’m not asking for a commitment from you, but can we go out? Maybe see what happens?”
His deep, persuasive voice washed over her. What could be the harm? She could lower her guard just a little. Not all the way, but low enough to peek into his soul and see if he was the man she thought he could be.
“All right,” she said. “We can go for ice cream after dinner.”
“Ice cream?”
“I have to see if you choose the right flavor. I could neverspend time with anyone who ate only vanilla. If we could take a convertible, it would be a perfect ending.”
His smile broadened. “I think I’ll make you wait to find out.”
The beautiful April day lifted Paul’s spirits until he got out of the car and saw what awaited him at the organic farm. Flies buzzed around the large brown mound in the middle of the field.
He saw Heather standing at the edge of the field and hurried to join her. He waved his hand in front of his face. “Phew, that stinks.”
“But it will grow healthy plants.” Heather inhaled deeply. “Nothing like the smell of manure.”
“You are one crazy woman.” He dropped his arm over her shoulders. “Can we go for more ice cream after we get this done? I promise not to order razzmatazz again. I’ll go for something tamer like butter pecan. Or Rocky Road. Am I getting warm?”
“I think they’d run us out when they took one whiff.” A dimple flashed in her right cheek.
Whoa, he hadn’t seen that very often. Maybe he was making headway. Last night had been a blast as he’d sat with Heather and Charlie, licking their cones and talking about everything from politics to their faith. He’d been right. Heather was one in a million. He found himself fascinated by her mind, her moods, and the way she cared about other people.
She picked up a pitchfork. “We’d better get this done.”
“We’re doing it ourselves? I thought I’d hire some help.”
She poked a finger in his side. “Pansy.”
“Masochist.” When she smiled and turned toward the manure pile, he took her by the wrist and pulled her close. “I think I need fortification for the task ahead. A lot of fortification. Let me smell your perfume first.”
She stopped, and a blush touched her cheeks. “I doubt you can smell it. The, um, fertilizer is too strong.”
“Oh, I’d know your scent anywhere.” He touched her cheek, then tangled his fingers in her long blond hair. “I’ve been wanting to do that forever.”
She stilled as if she was afraid to move. He wound her hair around his hand. “Your hair is so silky, and it smells like flowers.”
He bent down and brushed his lips across hers. Her lashes fluttered down, and she leaned in. Her encouragement was all he needed to snake his other arm around her waist and deepen the kiss. She kissed him back, and he was smiling when their lips finally parted.
“I think you’re starting to like me,” he whispered.
Her blue eyes darkened. “You think?”
He nodded but didn’t release her. “Most definitely. And I’m crazy about you, Heather. You can trust me. We’ll move slow, but trust me. I’m not going anywhere.”
She pulled away. “If you say so.” She was still smiling when she moved toward the manure pile. “This isn’t going to get done by itself.”
“It’s going to take us hours,” he groaned. Sighing, he picked up a pitchfork. When was the last time he’d done something like this? Like, never?
She turned back to face him with an impish grin. “You just said you were crazy about