Read Online Unfinished Business by Isabelle Drake - Free Book Online Page A

guess. If that’s what you want to do.”
    “It’s what I had planned.”
    Stunned, I nod.
    He stuffs his keys into his pocket and lunges out of the car. He opens the passenger door and offers his hand. I lift my own and position it neutrally. First, he clasps my fingertips while I swing my booted legs out of the car then he lifts our hands as I climb out of the seat. After he reaches around me to shut the door, he pulls my fingers into his palm. The light friction of his palm gliding across mine feels damn good.
    Because our conversation so far has consisted of a series of my questions and his four word answers, I don’t know what we have in common, but that doesn’t stop me from wondering how he’d look without his shirt on. The heat from his hand is seeping through me so I move closer and smile up at him. “Do you go skating often?”
    “Used to, when I was little. My dad brought us here all the time.”
    “You have brothers or sisters?”
    A silly grin slants across his mouth. “Four brothers. I’m the baby.”
    “Five boys? No girls? Your poor mother.”
    He laughs and pulls open the door. “Yeah. She kept threatening to throw away the furniture and make us all sit on wooden crates. I guess we were pretty hard on things like chairs. And doors. And walls.”
    This is the most I’ve got out of him all night. So I ask him a couple more questions. By the time we have our skates, I’ve learned all the basic stuff.
    Childhood dog named Axel. Two brothers married, one with kids. Two brothers single. After Clifford left for college, his parents moved to a house on Lake Michigan where they’re spending their retired days fixing up an old sailboat.
    “Need help with you skates?”
    Clifford already has his skates on. Me? I’m on the carpet-covered bench, bent over and twisted sideways as I struggle to get the skates on without exposing my black lace VS panties. It’s okay if Clifford gets a look but that forty-something dude wrestling with the wild toddler, he has to go home to his wife.
    Without waiting for an answer to his inquiry, The Dog drops to his knees and takes my left foot in his hand. The sight of my instep curving into the palm of his huge mitt makes my mouth go dry. Even though there is no hint of seduction in his action, quivering lust warms me from toe to head.
    By the time he grabs the right foot, my heart is pumping soundly and a giddy nervous laugh is threatening to tumble out. That will never do so I hold my lips together and stare at the short strands of his strawberry blond hair. Unfortunately, he chooses that exact second to look up. He finds me staring at him with my face pulled together like I’ve just downed a shot of tequila.
    His gaze stays on my face long enough for me to smile. He hops to his feet. “Okay?” he asks, over the loud music and squeals of preteen girls.
    I still can’t believe I’m about to skate in a dress but I’ll try anything once. Off we go.
    It isn’t as bad as I thought. We’re moving along pretty well. In the corner, near the yellow lockers, a DJ is waving his arms and gyrating. Gorillaz Feel Good Inc. comes on, and all of a sudden I’m glad to be rolling around, dodging scruffy seven-year-olds. Clifford’s hold on my hand is just right and I figure, hey, why not skate in a dress?
    Clifford? He’s a great skater. I can see why he wanted to come. The heads of single girls, and even a few with guys, tip his way and I glimpse their amazement that a big guy can be so graceful. It’s working on them and it’s working on me. I’m not thinking about Nick. Not one little bit.
    We circle around about a dozen or so times and I’m enjoying the music and the hum of my wheels gliding over the polished wooden floors. Every few strides, Clifford’s leg bumps into my hip and I’m liking that too.
    About ten feet in front of us, a couple glides along with their hands stuffed in each other’s back pockets. Seven feet to our left, there’s a couple crisscrossing