Read Online The Ring on Her Finger by Elizabeth Bevarly - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Elizabeth Bevarly
Tags: General Fiction
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playing tricks. Then he wondered how that could be, when he suddenly felt so warm and sunny inside.
“Hey,” he replied automatically. “I, uh...I missed dinner,” he added by way of explaining his appearance.
She nodded a little jerkily. “Rosemary told me you’d probably come by for something when you didn’t show up earlier. She said you work late a lot.”
Did he? He didn’t feel like he worked that much later than other people, any more often than they did. Just because he was always exhausted at day’s end, and just because it was usually dark when he finished, and just because it didn’t get dark in the summer ’til sometimes ten o’clock, that didn’t mean anything. Did it?
“Looks like you’re working late, too,” he pointed out.
“I, ah, I have a party to plan.”
“Mrs. Cove put you right to work, did she?”
Lucy gave that herky-jerky nod again. Funny, she still seemed to be nervous about something. Then again, it was her first day on the job. And God knew Alexis Cove could scare the crap out of anybody when she turned that Mrs. Freeze look on a person. Even after five years, Max didn’t feel comfortable around her.
Lucy stepped aside to allow him entry, and he tried not to notice as he strode by her how good she smelled, all sweet and soft and womanly. He tried, too, not to notice how clean she was compared to his own grimy self. Even though he’d washed his hands before leaving the carriage house, he felt dirty next to her. But that didn’t have anything to do with Lucy. It didn’t have anything to do with the grease on his clothes, either.
“There’s some leftover chicken,” she said.
He also tried not to notice how nice she sounded when she spoke, how her voice was breathy and melodic and touched with a gentleness that reached too deep down inside him.
“And rice,” she added as he continued walking across the mud room. “There’s also some salad and, I think, squash. But Abby may have finished that.”
He willed her not to follow him into the kitchen, but she was obviously too nice to pick up on that vibe. Instead, she eased past him, beating him to the refrigerator. In an effort to drive his gaze away from her, Max glanced over at the desk and saw papers fanned out, and a phone book open. He also saw pieces of paper crumpled up and a pencil broken in two, and he realized he was keeping her from her work.
“I’ll get that,” he said as she started to reach into the refrigerator for the leftovers. He tilted his head toward the clutter on the desk. “Don’t let me keep you from what you were doing.”
Lucy followed his gaze to the desk and grimaced eloquently. When she looked back at Max, he got the impression that she wished he would keep her from her work. “That’s okay. I could use a little break. Besides, Rosemary offered to help me with it tomorrow.”
She started to pull a covered dish from the refrigerator, so Max leaned forward, preparing to take it from her. His shoulder bumped hers in the process, and he fancied he could feel the heat of her bare arm seeping through his work shirt into his muscle beneath. When his hand closed over hers to take the dish from her, he couldn’t quite keep from flinching. Her hand was just so warm and soft beneath his, the way the rest of her would be warm and beneath him when they—
He heard her gasp at the contact and wondered if she was thinking the same thing he was. And it was only because she was so easy to read that he was able to catch the dish when it tumbled from her fingers.
“I...I’m sorry,” she apologized. “I...it slipped out of my hands.”
“No problem. I’ve got it,” he said, gripping the dish more tightly than was necessary.
“You certainly do,” she said, so softly that he wondered if she’d intended for him to hear it.
He was going to ask her what she meant by the comment, but judging by the look on her face, he was probably better off not knowing. So he took the dish to the counter
“Hey,” he replied automatically. “I, uh...I missed dinner,” he added by way of explaining his appearance.
She nodded a little jerkily. “Rosemary told me you’d probably come by for something when you didn’t show up earlier. She said you work late a lot.”
Did he? He didn’t feel like he worked that much later than other people, any more often than they did. Just because he was always exhausted at day’s end, and just because it was usually dark when he finished, and just because it didn’t get dark in the summer ’til sometimes ten o’clock, that didn’t mean anything. Did it?
“Looks like you’re working late, too,” he pointed out.
“I, ah, I have a party to plan.”
“Mrs. Cove put you right to work, did she?”
Lucy gave that herky-jerky nod again. Funny, she still seemed to be nervous about something. Then again, it was her first day on the job. And God knew Alexis Cove could scare the crap out of anybody when she turned that Mrs. Freeze look on a person. Even after five years, Max didn’t feel comfortable around her.
Lucy stepped aside to allow him entry, and he tried not to notice as he strode by her how good she smelled, all sweet and soft and womanly. He tried, too, not to notice how clean she was compared to his own grimy self. Even though he’d washed his hands before leaving the carriage house, he felt dirty next to her. But that didn’t have anything to do with Lucy. It didn’t have anything to do with the grease on his clothes, either.
“There’s some leftover chicken,” she said.
He also tried not to notice how nice she sounded when she spoke, how her voice was breathy and melodic and touched with a gentleness that reached too deep down inside him.
“And rice,” she added as he continued walking across the mud room. “There’s also some salad and, I think, squash. But Abby may have finished that.”
He willed her not to follow him into the kitchen, but she was obviously too nice to pick up on that vibe. Instead, she eased past him, beating him to the refrigerator. In an effort to drive his gaze away from her, Max glanced over at the desk and saw papers fanned out, and a phone book open. He also saw pieces of paper crumpled up and a pencil broken in two, and he realized he was keeping her from her work.
“I’ll get that,” he said as she started to reach into the refrigerator for the leftovers. He tilted his head toward the clutter on the desk. “Don’t let me keep you from what you were doing.”
Lucy followed his gaze to the desk and grimaced eloquently. When she looked back at Max, he got the impression that she wished he would keep her from her work. “That’s okay. I could use a little break. Besides, Rosemary offered to help me with it tomorrow.”
She started to pull a covered dish from the refrigerator, so Max leaned forward, preparing to take it from her. His shoulder bumped hers in the process, and he fancied he could feel the heat of her bare arm seeping through his work shirt into his muscle beneath. When his hand closed over hers to take the dish from her, he couldn’t quite keep from flinching. Her hand was just so warm and soft beneath his, the way the rest of her would be warm and beneath him when they—
He heard her gasp at the contact and wondered if she was thinking the same thing he was. And it was only because she was so easy to read that he was able to catch the dish when it tumbled from her fingers.
“I...I’m sorry,” she apologized. “I...it slipped out of my hands.”
“No problem. I’ve got it,” he said, gripping the dish more tightly than was necessary.
“You certainly do,” she said, so softly that he wondered if she’d intended for him to hear it.
He was going to ask her what she meant by the comment, but judging by the look on her face, he was probably better off not knowing. So he took the dish to the counter
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