Read Online When Sparks Fly by Kristine Raymond, Andrea Michelle, Grace Augustine, Maryann Jordan, B. Maddox, J. M. Nash, Anne L. Parks - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Kristine Raymond, Andrea Michelle, Grace Augustine, Maryann Jordan, B. Maddox, J. M. Nash, Anne L. Parks
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giggled.
“That’s what mommies do,” Fran laughed. “Thank you again for your help, Monica. I appreciate it.”
“You’re welcome. If there is anything I can do, please let me know.”
“Mommy, what about the present?” Kimber asked, her eyes full of concern over the forgotten gift.
“Shhh, sweetheart, we’ll do it later. Why don’t you go to your room and color a picture for Grandpa Bill?
“Can Leroy come with me?”
“I don’t think s….” “Sure, he can.”
Monica and Joe spoke at the same time and he met her eyes, challenging her to disagree with him. Shaking her head in mock disapproval, she relented. “Okay, but you have to keep quiet. No roughhousing. Grandma Fran and Grandpa Bill are going to take a nap and I don’t want you to disturb them, understand?”
“Yes, Mommy. Thanks, Joe. Come on, Leroy, let’s go color.” The girl and dog raced down the hallway, the door to the bedroom crashing against the wall as they entered.
“Kimber! What did I say?” Monica called after her.
“Sorry, Mommy. We’ll be quiet,” a small voice drifted down the hall.
“That child!” Shaking her head, Monica cleared the plate from the table, wiping breadcrumbs into her hand.
“They’re all like that, dear,” Fran said. “Why I could tell you stories about Joe that would make your hair stand up on end.”
“Really? I’d like to hear those sometime,” she responded, eyes twinkling as she looked at the object of their discussion.
“Mom, Dad’s tea is getting cold,” he pointed out, in an attempt to head off the conversation before it began.
“You’re right, it is.” Winking at Monica, Fran picked up the tray pausing in the doorway. “I’ll fill you in later, dear.”
Joe groaned and shook his head. “Don’t believe everything you hear. I was a perfectly, well-behaved child.”
She laughed. “That’s what they all say. Go on and help your dad. I’ll finish up in here.”
He walked over to her and cupped his hand around her neck, his thumb grazing her cheek. “Thank you, Monica, for coming into my life.” Brushing his lips over hers, he stepped back and dropped his hand. “I’ve got to get back to the park after I get Dad settled. I’ll see you later.” Disappearing into the living room, he exchanged a few words with his father then helped him to his room. Three minutes later, he was pulling out of the driveway on his way back to work.
Her lips tingled, the faintest impression of his lingering there. The brief contact left her feeling giddy and though she heard his truck leave she practically danced around the kitchen finishing the cleanup. A small radio tucked beneath a cabinet beckoned, and switching it on 1950s rock and roll filled the air, tempting her to sing along with the likes of Fats Domino and The Everly Brothers.
Deciding to make homemade soup for supper, certain that Fran wouldn’t mind, she opened the pantry to see which ingredients the woman had on hand. Mentally flipping through her favorite recipes, she selected a white bean chowder and gathered the necessary items, lining them up on the counter. Before beginning, she went to check on Kimber, not surprised to find her fast asleep on the bed, Leroy curled up by her side. Touched that Joe had left his furry friend behind, it gave her one more reason to admire the man.
Back in the kitchen, she searched for a stock pot, colander, and cutting board. Washing, peeling, and chopping vegetables for the soup, she added them to the pot along with vegetable broth and some rinsed canned beans. A few dried herbs and a couple of bay leaves were added and soon the chowder was simmering away on the stove.
She thought drop biscuits would go nicely with the soup, a quick fix that she could make right before serving supper. The thought of a freshly baked dessert appealed to her too. She loved to bake, a hobby that went back to her childhood days, spending summers in the kitchen with her grandmother. There wasn’t much
“That’s what mommies do,” Fran laughed. “Thank you again for your help, Monica. I appreciate it.”
“You’re welcome. If there is anything I can do, please let me know.”
“Mommy, what about the present?” Kimber asked, her eyes full of concern over the forgotten gift.
“Shhh, sweetheart, we’ll do it later. Why don’t you go to your room and color a picture for Grandpa Bill?
“Can Leroy come with me?”
“I don’t think s….” “Sure, he can.”
Monica and Joe spoke at the same time and he met her eyes, challenging her to disagree with him. Shaking her head in mock disapproval, she relented. “Okay, but you have to keep quiet. No roughhousing. Grandma Fran and Grandpa Bill are going to take a nap and I don’t want you to disturb them, understand?”
“Yes, Mommy. Thanks, Joe. Come on, Leroy, let’s go color.” The girl and dog raced down the hallway, the door to the bedroom crashing against the wall as they entered.
“Kimber! What did I say?” Monica called after her.
“Sorry, Mommy. We’ll be quiet,” a small voice drifted down the hall.
“That child!” Shaking her head, Monica cleared the plate from the table, wiping breadcrumbs into her hand.
“They’re all like that, dear,” Fran said. “Why I could tell you stories about Joe that would make your hair stand up on end.”
“Really? I’d like to hear those sometime,” she responded, eyes twinkling as she looked at the object of their discussion.
“Mom, Dad’s tea is getting cold,” he pointed out, in an attempt to head off the conversation before it began.
“You’re right, it is.” Winking at Monica, Fran picked up the tray pausing in the doorway. “I’ll fill you in later, dear.”
Joe groaned and shook his head. “Don’t believe everything you hear. I was a perfectly, well-behaved child.”
She laughed. “That’s what they all say. Go on and help your dad. I’ll finish up in here.”
He walked over to her and cupped his hand around her neck, his thumb grazing her cheek. “Thank you, Monica, for coming into my life.” Brushing his lips over hers, he stepped back and dropped his hand. “I’ve got to get back to the park after I get Dad settled. I’ll see you later.” Disappearing into the living room, he exchanged a few words with his father then helped him to his room. Three minutes later, he was pulling out of the driveway on his way back to work.
Her lips tingled, the faintest impression of his lingering there. The brief contact left her feeling giddy and though she heard his truck leave she practically danced around the kitchen finishing the cleanup. A small radio tucked beneath a cabinet beckoned, and switching it on 1950s rock and roll filled the air, tempting her to sing along with the likes of Fats Domino and The Everly Brothers.
Deciding to make homemade soup for supper, certain that Fran wouldn’t mind, she opened the pantry to see which ingredients the woman had on hand. Mentally flipping through her favorite recipes, she selected a white bean chowder and gathered the necessary items, lining them up on the counter. Before beginning, she went to check on Kimber, not surprised to find her fast asleep on the bed, Leroy curled up by her side. Touched that Joe had left his furry friend behind, it gave her one more reason to admire the man.
Back in the kitchen, she searched for a stock pot, colander, and cutting board. Washing, peeling, and chopping vegetables for the soup, she added them to the pot along with vegetable broth and some rinsed canned beans. A few dried herbs and a couple of bay leaves were added and soon the chowder was simmering away on the stove.
She thought drop biscuits would go nicely with the soup, a quick fix that she could make right before serving supper. The thought of a freshly baked dessert appealed to her too. She loved to bake, a hobby that went back to her childhood days, spending summers in the kitchen with her grandmother. There wasn’t much
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