Read Online Third Time's the Bride! by Merline Lovelace - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Merline Lovelace
Ads: Link
back to Bethesda. Outside the SUV the night gleamed midnight blue and star-spangled. Inside, Brian had tuned the radio to an all-jazz station.
“That’s Miles Davis,” he told her when the mellow notes of a trumpet undulated through the speakers. “Probably one of the most influential musicians of the twentieth century.”
Fascinated by this glimpse of yet another facet of his personality, Dawn rested her head against the seat back.
“Who’s that?” she asked when a sax joined in.
“John Coltrane. Also a legend.”
Content to let the smoky, soulful notes surround her, Dawn was loose and completely relaxed when they arrived home. The garage door rattled up. The SUV nosed into its stall. Brian killed the engine but the music continued. It wouldn’t cut off until one of them opened their door, Dawn knew.
She unfastened her seat belt. He did the same. Neither of them made another move until he muttered something under his breath and angled to face her.
“Tommy should be asleep by now.”
“So?”
“So I can have Addy on his way in two minutes.”
Dawn tipped her chin. After that stormy kiss in the kitchen last night, she wasn’t sure where he was going with this. Or where she wanted it to go.
“What comes after you hustle Addy out the door?”
“I pour us a brandy,” he replied. “We kick off our shoes. Listen to more Davis and Coltrane. And let whatever happens, happen.”
Chapter Five
D awn hadn’t tuned in to much jazz. Actually, she’d never tuned in to any that she could recall. She couldn’t distinguish a tenor sax from an alto and had no idea there was a soprano version of the instrument. Coltrane—or Trane, as Brian referred to him—had evidently mastered them all. He’d also gone in for incredibly long solos, with the notes coming so fast and smooth they sounded like one continuous riff.
“Amazing,” she murmured during one seemingly endless glissando. “I’ve never heard anything like this.”
She was slouched on the sofa in the den, lolling against the back cushions and her feet stretched out next to Brian’s on the coffee table. After several glasses of wine at the Westbrooks’, they’d both opted for coffee instead of brandy. The attraction that simmered just below flash point was there, hovering between them, but for the moment Dawn was content to balance her coffee cup on her tummy and wiggle her toes in time to the music.
“How in the world does he do that without seeming to stop for a single breath?” she mused when Trane’s long solo ended. “Brian?”
She slewed her head sideways on the sofa cushion and saw him studying her feet with a bemused expression.
“Is that the new thing?” he asked, nodding to her toes. “All different colors of polish?”
“Not that new.”
She wiggled her feet again. The pearly pastels were great for summer and sandals. She’d have to go darker on her next pedicure, though. Maybe the Fall Flame collection with its lustrous hues of red, russet and gold.
“My company markets these polishes. They’re water based, hypoallergenic and cruelty-free.”
“They don’t hurt your toes?”
“Well, that, too,” she said with a laugh, “as we’ve eliminated the most toxic chemicals that can harm the environment as well as your nails. But the cruelty-free label means the products aren’t tested on animals.”
“Okay, I’m trying to do a mental construct of monkeys with green and blue and silver toenails.”
“You joke, but I bet you worry about these kinds of environmental issues as much in your business as we do in ours,” she said shrewdly. “How many chemicals does your company use to manufacture your navigational systems?”
“A bunch,” he admitted. “You have to when you’re working with epoxy resins and alloys, not to mention paints and solvents and supporting fibers like Kevlar and fiberglass.”
Setting aside her coffee, Dawn curled her legs under her. “Give me a ballpark figure.”
“Last report I read
“That’s Miles Davis,” he told her when the mellow notes of a trumpet undulated through the speakers. “Probably one of the most influential musicians of the twentieth century.”
Fascinated by this glimpse of yet another facet of his personality, Dawn rested her head against the seat back.
“Who’s that?” she asked when a sax joined in.
“John Coltrane. Also a legend.”
Content to let the smoky, soulful notes surround her, Dawn was loose and completely relaxed when they arrived home. The garage door rattled up. The SUV nosed into its stall. Brian killed the engine but the music continued. It wouldn’t cut off until one of them opened their door, Dawn knew.
She unfastened her seat belt. He did the same. Neither of them made another move until he muttered something under his breath and angled to face her.
“Tommy should be asleep by now.”
“So?”
“So I can have Addy on his way in two minutes.”
Dawn tipped her chin. After that stormy kiss in the kitchen last night, she wasn’t sure where he was going with this. Or where she wanted it to go.
“What comes after you hustle Addy out the door?”
“I pour us a brandy,” he replied. “We kick off our shoes. Listen to more Davis and Coltrane. And let whatever happens, happen.”
Chapter Five
D awn hadn’t tuned in to much jazz. Actually, she’d never tuned in to any that she could recall. She couldn’t distinguish a tenor sax from an alto and had no idea there was a soprano version of the instrument. Coltrane—or Trane, as Brian referred to him—had evidently mastered them all. He’d also gone in for incredibly long solos, with the notes coming so fast and smooth they sounded like one continuous riff.
“Amazing,” she murmured during one seemingly endless glissando. “I’ve never heard anything like this.”
She was slouched on the sofa in the den, lolling against the back cushions and her feet stretched out next to Brian’s on the coffee table. After several glasses of wine at the Westbrooks’, they’d both opted for coffee instead of brandy. The attraction that simmered just below flash point was there, hovering between them, but for the moment Dawn was content to balance her coffee cup on her tummy and wiggle her toes in time to the music.
“How in the world does he do that without seeming to stop for a single breath?” she mused when Trane’s long solo ended. “Brian?”
She slewed her head sideways on the sofa cushion and saw him studying her feet with a bemused expression.
“Is that the new thing?” he asked, nodding to her toes. “All different colors of polish?”
“Not that new.”
She wiggled her feet again. The pearly pastels were great for summer and sandals. She’d have to go darker on her next pedicure, though. Maybe the Fall Flame collection with its lustrous hues of red, russet and gold.
“My company markets these polishes. They’re water based, hypoallergenic and cruelty-free.”
“They don’t hurt your toes?”
“Well, that, too,” she said with a laugh, “as we’ve eliminated the most toxic chemicals that can harm the environment as well as your nails. But the cruelty-free label means the products aren’t tested on animals.”
“Okay, I’m trying to do a mental construct of monkeys with green and blue and silver toenails.”
“You joke, but I bet you worry about these kinds of environmental issues as much in your business as we do in ours,” she said shrewdly. “How many chemicals does your company use to manufacture your navigational systems?”
“A bunch,” he admitted. “You have to when you’re working with epoxy resins and alloys, not to mention paints and solvents and supporting fibers like Kevlar and fiberglass.”
Setting aside her coffee, Dawn curled her legs under her. “Give me a ballpark figure.”
“Last report I read
Similar Books
