Read Online Time's Forbidden Flower by Diane Rinella - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Diane Rinella
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head. ‘Get off of my counter! I don’t know where your filthy butt has been, and I don’t want to know!’ ”
My eyes narrow despite my amusement. “Shut up and get up there. You being able to quote my past is both endearing and annoying as crap.” He bounces up and I snap a quick shot before his smile becomes too posed. I then step back to get the full glory in frame, but the array of destruction is too wide. “Hey, slide that one on the end towards you a bit.”
“Why?” he asks.
“It’s not in frame.”
“You don’t need it to be. Take the picture, and let’s get out of here.”
“Fine! I’ll do it myself!”
Donovan jumps up to protest, putting his hand out, waiving me to retreat. “It’s fine, Lil. Just take the picture.”
Crap. There’s a reason for his laziness. I go for the pans and find my attempt to shove the tower is futile. “You glued my pans to the counter? You rat bastard!”
His eyes crest, “I’m diabolical, not cruel. I used industrial-grade high tack.”
“Dear God, how much did you use?” I ask, trying unsuccessfully to get the stack to budge before moving on to the next one and encountering the same problem. I push harder, then shake the table. Nothing happens—not even a flutter.
“Umm…” Donovan runs for the back door, just like he did when he was twelve and stole my diary. “Meet you at the car.”
Grabbing a bag of icing I run after him with the intent of pin-striping his suit. That jerk!
Chapter 9
Anna is an enigma. Our forest of distance has roots that extend beyond the awkwardness felt regarding her relationship with the man who is a complex part of my life. Today I hope to yank up a couple of trees.
We detour by an eclectic coffee shop while shopping for Donovan’s office decor. Before we order, I pull a twenty-dollar bill out of my wallet and place it on the counter. “On me,” I insist.
“Oh, it’s fine. I’ve got it,” she rebuts.
“Nope. Let me take care of my sister. Order away,” I say with a flourish of my hand.
Her lips part upon hearing the word, sister. She then gives a little nod before turning to the barista. “One large cup of hot water.”
I fight the urge to rattle my head in confusion. The barista hands her a steaming cup like the request is common before he nods to me. “A regular Borgia, please,” I order. The barista makes my drink as I subtly watch Anna take her cup to a table. Her head taps like she is humming to a silent beat while she extracts a hand-filled tea sack from her purse and plops it into the cup. I understand wanting to stay skinny and the health food kick, but bringing her own tea bag seems a little nuts.
Grabbing my coffee, my eyes catch sight of a yellow piece of paper on the floor. I swipe up the enrollment form for Anna Beckett in Intermediate Taekwondo lessons, listing her rank as blue belt. “Hey, Anna, you dropped this,” I say, handing her the slip. Her face firms as she looks at the paper, then pulses a smile while cramming it into her purse. “I enrolled Sunshine in a Karate class. Donovan’s going to kill me if he finds out,” she says like it’s a secret, shifting her eyes and hushing her tone. “He thinks his daughter should be dainty.”
I fake a smile. “Don’t worry, I saw nothing of the like.”
We head across Melrose on our way to an odd little art shop. As Anna steps into the sunlight, her modest and billowy white dress sways in the breeze, pressing against the curves that hide beneath. I have always been jealous of her luscious figure, but today I turn catty, thinking she is too skinny and wondering what the hell Donovan sees in this woman who has a body type for which he has always expressed extreme distaste. I don’t like that my jealousy is on the rise, and I force it out of my mind as we enter the shop.
“Hey, check this out,” I say, holding a vase that was upcycled from a discarded Scooby-Doo lunch box thermos. “Donovan would love it.”
“Hmm…” Anna
My eyes narrow despite my amusement. “Shut up and get up there. You being able to quote my past is both endearing and annoying as crap.” He bounces up and I snap a quick shot before his smile becomes too posed. I then step back to get the full glory in frame, but the array of destruction is too wide. “Hey, slide that one on the end towards you a bit.”
“Why?” he asks.
“It’s not in frame.”
“You don’t need it to be. Take the picture, and let’s get out of here.”
“Fine! I’ll do it myself!”
Donovan jumps up to protest, putting his hand out, waiving me to retreat. “It’s fine, Lil. Just take the picture.”
Crap. There’s a reason for his laziness. I go for the pans and find my attempt to shove the tower is futile. “You glued my pans to the counter? You rat bastard!”
His eyes crest, “I’m diabolical, not cruel. I used industrial-grade high tack.”
“Dear God, how much did you use?” I ask, trying unsuccessfully to get the stack to budge before moving on to the next one and encountering the same problem. I push harder, then shake the table. Nothing happens—not even a flutter.
“Umm…” Donovan runs for the back door, just like he did when he was twelve and stole my diary. “Meet you at the car.”
Grabbing a bag of icing I run after him with the intent of pin-striping his suit. That jerk!
Chapter 9
Anna is an enigma. Our forest of distance has roots that extend beyond the awkwardness felt regarding her relationship with the man who is a complex part of my life. Today I hope to yank up a couple of trees.
We detour by an eclectic coffee shop while shopping for Donovan’s office decor. Before we order, I pull a twenty-dollar bill out of my wallet and place it on the counter. “On me,” I insist.
“Oh, it’s fine. I’ve got it,” she rebuts.
“Nope. Let me take care of my sister. Order away,” I say with a flourish of my hand.
Her lips part upon hearing the word, sister. She then gives a little nod before turning to the barista. “One large cup of hot water.”
I fight the urge to rattle my head in confusion. The barista hands her a steaming cup like the request is common before he nods to me. “A regular Borgia, please,” I order. The barista makes my drink as I subtly watch Anna take her cup to a table. Her head taps like she is humming to a silent beat while she extracts a hand-filled tea sack from her purse and plops it into the cup. I understand wanting to stay skinny and the health food kick, but bringing her own tea bag seems a little nuts.
Grabbing my coffee, my eyes catch sight of a yellow piece of paper on the floor. I swipe up the enrollment form for Anna Beckett in Intermediate Taekwondo lessons, listing her rank as blue belt. “Hey, Anna, you dropped this,” I say, handing her the slip. Her face firms as she looks at the paper, then pulses a smile while cramming it into her purse. “I enrolled Sunshine in a Karate class. Donovan’s going to kill me if he finds out,” she says like it’s a secret, shifting her eyes and hushing her tone. “He thinks his daughter should be dainty.”
I fake a smile. “Don’t worry, I saw nothing of the like.”
We head across Melrose on our way to an odd little art shop. As Anna steps into the sunlight, her modest and billowy white dress sways in the breeze, pressing against the curves that hide beneath. I have always been jealous of her luscious figure, but today I turn catty, thinking she is too skinny and wondering what the hell Donovan sees in this woman who has a body type for which he has always expressed extreme distaste. I don’t like that my jealousy is on the rise, and I force it out of my mind as we enter the shop.
“Hey, check this out,” I say, holding a vase that was upcycled from a discarded Scooby-Doo lunch box thermos. “Donovan would love it.”
“Hmm…” Anna
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