Read Online The Boat Builder's Bed by Kris Pearson - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Kris Pearson
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Desperate for a nice big dinner? I don’t think so.”
“Chippie,” Lucy tried again, but with less insistence this time.
“Cuddle,” Sophie suggested, gathering the little girl closer. “Cuddles are the best thing in the world. Better than chippies any day.”
Rafe felt his gut give a sudden churning twist. Sophie looked beautiful sitting there with the baby in her arms. He couldn’t help imagining her cradling his own child. Dark-haired like this one. Fractious, but soon calmed by her warm teasing manner. He forced himself to look away and stop dreaming. Sophie wasn’t the one, any more than Faye had been.
Faye’s last vitriolic anti-maternal outburst had ended their partnership as surely as if she’d shot him through the head. Six years of marriage, and finally the truth. She didn’t want his children. Had never wanted children. Was still taking birth control pills and concealing it from him. And wouldn’t be changing her mind.
Obviously Sophie felt the same. She’d just launched her new business and plainly had huge ambition for it to succeed. She was pretty, and fun, and good for a fling, but that was all.
He’d never felt so conflicted. He didn’t want another shallow affair. But he wanted Sophie. Go figure...
Months earlier, after separating from Faye, he’d told Chris and his team it was full steam ahead with the lowest level of the cliff-house. He knew there was no point in looking backward to things that couldn’t be.
But right now there was no real reason to look forward, either.
He shook his head at his own stupidity. All very well picturing Sophie as an alternative to Faye, but she seemed every bit as ambitious...every bit as determined to devote her time and energy to her new business. Her earlier comments about wanting the same success flooded his brain, causing his gut to twist again.
“You look like the ideal young mother,” he couldn’t help suggesting. He heard the bitterness in his voice, and wasn’t at all taken aback when Sophie shrugged and said, “Me? You must be joking.”
He’d fixed his attention so firmly on Sophie cradling Lucy that he failed to see Fran’s look of puzzled surprise.
Sophie felt the dread roll right though her. What if Fran said something damning in front of Rafe? She lurched up and set Lucy on her feet. “Sorry to throw you out, but I’ve had it for the day,” she said quickly before Fran could spill any beans. She dived into the washroom to retrieve the stroller. Lucy’s bottom lip trembled, her eyes scrunched up and she howled in protest when Sophie returned a few seconds later.
“Gotta go, Luce, sorry.” She bent and tried to console the little girl. “Want to phone my Mommy and tell her how my new shop went.”
“Damn well, that’s how it went,” Fran confirmed, reaching out and stroking Lucy’s hair before up-ending the last of her champagne and handing the glass back to Rafe.
“Need a ride?” he offered, quirking an eyebrow as she stumbled slightly.
Fran shook her head and grinned, unoffended by Sophie’s abrupt dismissal and Rafe’s suggestion she had the wobbles.
“We’ll be fine, won’t we Luce?” Lucy continued her sobbing. “Some nice fresh air will do us both good. We’re just around in Hobson Street,” she added to Rafe. “Close as. Not even any roads to cross.”
“Can you manage this then?” He pushed an unopened bottle of Moet towards her.
“Not what the baby-bag generally contains,” Fran said, with a delighted smile. She bent and rummaged for the roomy quilted mauve carrier. “But I think we can squeeze it in beside the emergency banana. Looks like Pete gets to toast Subtle’s future success after all.” She turned towards Sophie as she persuaded Lucy into the stroller. “Say hi to your Mom for me. Shame she and Camille couldn’t make it.”
Sophie encouraged her out through the doorway and walked with her for a few seconds, waving to Lucy and hoping Rafe hadn’t heard, or
“Chippie,” Lucy tried again, but with less insistence this time.
“Cuddle,” Sophie suggested, gathering the little girl closer. “Cuddles are the best thing in the world. Better than chippies any day.”
Rafe felt his gut give a sudden churning twist. Sophie looked beautiful sitting there with the baby in her arms. He couldn’t help imagining her cradling his own child. Dark-haired like this one. Fractious, but soon calmed by her warm teasing manner. He forced himself to look away and stop dreaming. Sophie wasn’t the one, any more than Faye had been.
Faye’s last vitriolic anti-maternal outburst had ended their partnership as surely as if she’d shot him through the head. Six years of marriage, and finally the truth. She didn’t want his children. Had never wanted children. Was still taking birth control pills and concealing it from him. And wouldn’t be changing her mind.
Obviously Sophie felt the same. She’d just launched her new business and plainly had huge ambition for it to succeed. She was pretty, and fun, and good for a fling, but that was all.
He’d never felt so conflicted. He didn’t want another shallow affair. But he wanted Sophie. Go figure...
Months earlier, after separating from Faye, he’d told Chris and his team it was full steam ahead with the lowest level of the cliff-house. He knew there was no point in looking backward to things that couldn’t be.
But right now there was no real reason to look forward, either.
He shook his head at his own stupidity. All very well picturing Sophie as an alternative to Faye, but she seemed every bit as ambitious...every bit as determined to devote her time and energy to her new business. Her earlier comments about wanting the same success flooded his brain, causing his gut to twist again.
“You look like the ideal young mother,” he couldn’t help suggesting. He heard the bitterness in his voice, and wasn’t at all taken aback when Sophie shrugged and said, “Me? You must be joking.”
He’d fixed his attention so firmly on Sophie cradling Lucy that he failed to see Fran’s look of puzzled surprise.
Sophie felt the dread roll right though her. What if Fran said something damning in front of Rafe? She lurched up and set Lucy on her feet. “Sorry to throw you out, but I’ve had it for the day,” she said quickly before Fran could spill any beans. She dived into the washroom to retrieve the stroller. Lucy’s bottom lip trembled, her eyes scrunched up and she howled in protest when Sophie returned a few seconds later.
“Gotta go, Luce, sorry.” She bent and tried to console the little girl. “Want to phone my Mommy and tell her how my new shop went.”
“Damn well, that’s how it went,” Fran confirmed, reaching out and stroking Lucy’s hair before up-ending the last of her champagne and handing the glass back to Rafe.
“Need a ride?” he offered, quirking an eyebrow as she stumbled slightly.
Fran shook her head and grinned, unoffended by Sophie’s abrupt dismissal and Rafe’s suggestion she had the wobbles.
“We’ll be fine, won’t we Luce?” Lucy continued her sobbing. “Some nice fresh air will do us both good. We’re just around in Hobson Street,” she added to Rafe. “Close as. Not even any roads to cross.”
“Can you manage this then?” He pushed an unopened bottle of Moet towards her.
“Not what the baby-bag generally contains,” Fran said, with a delighted smile. She bent and rummaged for the roomy quilted mauve carrier. “But I think we can squeeze it in beside the emergency banana. Looks like Pete gets to toast Subtle’s future success after all.” She turned towards Sophie as she persuaded Lucy into the stroller. “Say hi to your Mom for me. Shame she and Camille couldn’t make it.”
Sophie encouraged her out through the doorway and walked with her for a few seconds, waving to Lucy and hoping Rafe hadn’t heard, or
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