Read Online The Fantasy Factor by Kimberly Raye - Free Book Online Page A

Austin said a few words.”
    “Look—” he pinned her with a stare “—is there a point to this conversation? Because if there is, I wish you would just get to it.”
    “There were no flowers, so after everyone left, I took him a small flowerpot of daisies.”
    “Thanks, but you shouldn’t have. He didn’t deserve any flowers.” The words were cold and cynical, but the brightness in his eyes told her he felt a lot more than he cared to admit.
    “They weren’t for him. They were for me. I felt good leaving them there. That’s what funerals are for, you know. They’re not for the person who passes away. They’re for everybody left behind.”
    “Since when?”
    “Since always. They’re a chance to say goodbye. You never said goodbye to him.”
    “I don’t need to say goodbye.”
    “If you say so.”
    “So where’s this place again?”
    “Just over the railroad tracks.” They lapsed into an uneasy silence the rest of the way there.
    “You’re here!” Mr. Jenkins met them out front when they pulled up. “This is so wonderful. I’ve already told Mrs. Hollister down the road and she said she’s going in first thing tomorrow to get everything to redo her flower beds. She’s been putting it off until her boys come home from college. One of them has a truck. But I told her you’re offering delivery for practically nothing, and she was thrilled!”
    “But I’m not—” she started, only to have him cut in.
    “So was Ernestine Miller. She’s the lady with the petunia garden over on Fifth Street. She’s got rheumatoid arthritis and has a heck of a time driving. This new setup is perfect for her. You’re a saint, that’s what she said. What we all said.”
    “Um, thank you,” she said, but the words held no enthusiasm. Deliveries? She couldn’t make deliveries. This was a fluke. A one-time thing.
    A test of her willpower, she realized as she climbed back into the truck and gave up the fresh Texas air for the scent of Houston. The sound of him. The sight of his handsome profile drawing her like a bee to a honeycomb.
    “Mrs. McGhee got stung by a bee,” she blurted when her hand actually slid a traitorous inch across the seat. The comment had nothing to do with anything, but she needed to talk, to divert her attention to something—anything—besides the fact that he was so close and she wanted him so much. “It made the front page of the paper,” she rushed on, despite the strange look that Houston gave her. He knew. He knew she was searching for a diversion, but he wasn’t going to help her by asking any questions. He was going to let her flounder around on her own.
    Because he wasn’t trying to deny the attraction between them. He didn’t have to. To everyone he was the same old Houston. Hot, hunky, wild. She was different. She had an image to uphold.
    “There was a picture and everything,” she continued. “They had to call an ambulance. Speaking of which, the fire department added three new ambulances. The chamber of commerce had a car wash to help raise money for them. We made more than four hundred dollars. The high school band had a car wash, too, last week. I didn’t have a car, but I went by and gave them five bucks, anyway….”
    She rattled on for the next twenty minutes about anything and everything, determined to distract herself and keep from reaching out and kissing him.
    She could. But she wouldn’t let herself. And that was the damned trouble of it all. The push-pull. She kept pushing the need away, but it kept coming back. Stronger. More fierce.
    By the time they reached the nursery, she was ready to scream. She scrambled out.
    “It’s not going to stop.”
    “I know it’s not. Thanks to you. You heard Mr. Jenkins. He’s already told all of his friends, and they’ve probably told their friends, and now everyone will be wanting me to deliver their purchases.”
    “That’s not what I’m talking about.”
    But she already knew that. He was talking about the