Read Online The Girl in the Comfortable Quiet by Susan Ward - Free Book Online
Authors: Susan Ward
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with
just the right amount of sun hue, and looking as sexy and beautiful as ever.
“Hello, Chrissie.” His voice is cool, his
expression nondescript, and his eyes hooded and impossible to read. What is
Alan doing here? My emotions take off in a hundred directions, from worried to
thrilled to dread to happier than I should feel at this moment of seeing him
again. Vaguely, I’m aware of how I must look to him. Frazzled and fat, not at
all attractive, but at least I dressed cute today in a short blue sundress and
I did do my hair.
“I tried to call,” he explains dryly.
I flush. Crap, that was him beeping in during my
call with Neil. And double crap, how long have I been standing here staring at
him? Say something quickly, Chrissie. Say something funny.Humor is the
only thing that is going to get me through this unexpected, extremely awkward
change to my day.
I shake my head. “I’m sorry to just stare at you.
I was expecting someone else. You’re not the FedEx man.”
A few seconds of silence pass then Alan laughs.
Some of the tension between us wanes.
“I hope you’re not disappointed.” He doesn’t
smile, but there is a slight upward curl to the edge of his lips and his gaze
softens.
I can’t stop myself. I smile. “Definitely not
disappointed. You win over the FedEx man any day of the week.”
The second the words are out I wish I could make
them disappear. I wanted to sound calm, in control, as poised as Alan is in
every circumstance. Instead, I said a stupid thing and spoke it in a lame,
flirty kind of way. Damn, Chrissie, damn.
Alan crosses the driveway toward me and I’m not
sure what to do next. We ended our call, I think, on our way to being friends.
It doesn’t clarify how I should behave with him now.
Do I kiss him on the cheek? Do I give him a fast
hug? Do I just invite him in? Which one correctly says friends?
Before I can figure this out, he leans in to put
a quick peck on my forehead. It reminds me of the silly kiss he gave me in
Jack’s studio the day we met. Barely touching, fleeting, and yet potently him.
I stare up as he pulls back, wondering if he’s thinking about that as well.
He gestures toward the open foyer door. “May I
come in?” he asks, his eyes now betraying just a hint of his amusement over me.
“Of course you can come in,” I say, laughing,
pleased that my voice is sounding normal again. “What are you doing here?”
He follows me into the house. “I’ve got some time
off. I decided on a road trip up the coast. It didn’t seem right to pass Santa
Barbara and not stop and see you, Chrissie. I did try to call first. But then I
thought, fuck it, I’ll just stop.”
I don’t even want to try to figure out how he
knows where I live or why he’s decided to just descend without warning. I shut
the door so he can’t see my face. “I’m glad you did.”
“Then I am, too. I wasn’t sure if this was OK with
you in the driveway.”
When I turn toward him, I realize he’s been
watching me. “No. It’s nice to see you, Alan.”
I let out a breath. I said that with just the
right hint of welcome and reserve.
His eyes move over me like a wandering caress.
“You look beautiful, Chrissie. Are you doing well?”
My cheeks turn deep red over the compliment. “I’m
doing really well, Alan.”
“It’s soon, isn’t it?” he asks, in that happy
for you way.
“Two weeks.”
He smiles, and his stare pauses on my middle.
It’s nothing new. Everyone fixes their eyes on my baby bump at some point, but Alan
doing it makes me feel grossly uncomfortable.
I change course. “Would you like some coffee? Or
something to drink? I don’t keep a lot of booze in the house but I’m pretty
sure I have scotch somewhere.”
He smiles at me. “No. I’m not staying long. I
don’t want to be a bother.”
He starts moving around my living room— shit, I
wish I could drink— and I amble down the stairs to join him in my
embarrassingly slow way.
He’s staring out
just the right amount of sun hue, and looking as sexy and beautiful as ever.
“Hello, Chrissie.” His voice is cool, his
expression nondescript, and his eyes hooded and impossible to read. What is
Alan doing here? My emotions take off in a hundred directions, from worried to
thrilled to dread to happier than I should feel at this moment of seeing him
again. Vaguely, I’m aware of how I must look to him. Frazzled and fat, not at
all attractive, but at least I dressed cute today in a short blue sundress and
I did do my hair.
“I tried to call,” he explains dryly.
I flush. Crap, that was him beeping in during my
call with Neil. And double crap, how long have I been standing here staring at
him? Say something quickly, Chrissie. Say something funny.Humor is the
only thing that is going to get me through this unexpected, extremely awkward
change to my day.
I shake my head. “I’m sorry to just stare at you.
I was expecting someone else. You’re not the FedEx man.”
A few seconds of silence pass then Alan laughs.
Some of the tension between us wanes.
“I hope you’re not disappointed.” He doesn’t
smile, but there is a slight upward curl to the edge of his lips and his gaze
softens.
I can’t stop myself. I smile. “Definitely not
disappointed. You win over the FedEx man any day of the week.”
The second the words are out I wish I could make
them disappear. I wanted to sound calm, in control, as poised as Alan is in
every circumstance. Instead, I said a stupid thing and spoke it in a lame,
flirty kind of way. Damn, Chrissie, damn.
Alan crosses the driveway toward me and I’m not
sure what to do next. We ended our call, I think, on our way to being friends.
It doesn’t clarify how I should behave with him now.
Do I kiss him on the cheek? Do I give him a fast
hug? Do I just invite him in? Which one correctly says friends?
Before I can figure this out, he leans in to put
a quick peck on my forehead. It reminds me of the silly kiss he gave me in
Jack’s studio the day we met. Barely touching, fleeting, and yet potently him.
I stare up as he pulls back, wondering if he’s thinking about that as well.
He gestures toward the open foyer door. “May I
come in?” he asks, his eyes now betraying just a hint of his amusement over me.
“Of course you can come in,” I say, laughing,
pleased that my voice is sounding normal again. “What are you doing here?”
He follows me into the house. “I’ve got some time
off. I decided on a road trip up the coast. It didn’t seem right to pass Santa
Barbara and not stop and see you, Chrissie. I did try to call first. But then I
thought, fuck it, I’ll just stop.”
I don’t even want to try to figure out how he
knows where I live or why he’s decided to just descend without warning. I shut
the door so he can’t see my face. “I’m glad you did.”
“Then I am, too. I wasn’t sure if this was OK with
you in the driveway.”
When I turn toward him, I realize he’s been
watching me. “No. It’s nice to see you, Alan.”
I let out a breath. I said that with just the
right hint of welcome and reserve.
His eyes move over me like a wandering caress.
“You look beautiful, Chrissie. Are you doing well?”
My cheeks turn deep red over the compliment. “I’m
doing really well, Alan.”
“It’s soon, isn’t it?” he asks, in that happy
for you way.
“Two weeks.”
He smiles, and his stare pauses on my middle.
It’s nothing new. Everyone fixes their eyes on my baby bump at some point, but Alan
doing it makes me feel grossly uncomfortable.
I change course. “Would you like some coffee? Or
something to drink? I don’t keep a lot of booze in the house but I’m pretty
sure I have scotch somewhere.”
He smiles at me. “No. I’m not staying long. I
don’t want to be a bother.”
He starts moving around my living room— shit, I
wish I could drink— and I amble down the stairs to join him in my
embarrassingly slow way.
He’s staring out
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