Read Online You’ll Understand When You’re Dead: Broken Heart Vampires Book 12 by Michele Bardsley - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Michele Bardsley
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felt safe, protected. She swallowed the knot in her throat. Matt had never really been hers, so why was she so stricken with the thought of ending a nonexistent relationship?
“At the PPTA garage sale tonight?” she suggested.
Matt’s arms tightened around her. “The mayor mentioned something about a picnic.”
“The witches host a barbecue after the garage sale. Should we do it then?”
“Yes,” Matt answered. He kissed the top of her head, and then let her go. He turned around quickly, too quickly, and left the house. She heard him putting the last of the boxes into the minivan.
His kisses, his touches had told her such wonderful things—that she was beautiful and sexy. She steeled herself against the hurt gathering in her chest. It is for the best, she told herself. So buck up, woman. Matt isn’t yours.
And he never will be.
Chapter Eight
N ATALIE LOOKED AT the flat tire and kicked it. She and Matt had been headed to the bed and breakfast, about ten miles outside of town, for the garage sale when the tire blew. Though the road was paved, potholes existed every five or so feet—a typical condition of Oklahoma streets. However, the jumbo hole that had caused the flat happened to be on the stretch of land lacking any civilization. Thick, dense woods shadowed both sides of the road. At this rate, she’d never get to the garage sale. On the up side, she wouldn’t have to deal with Bettie, who’d probably picked out the music, the bridesmaid dresses, and the flowers already.
Neither one of their cell phones worked, either. They were in some kind of dead zone that had nothing to do with zombies, vampires, or ghosts. She scanned the forest, hoping to catch a glimpse of Matt. He’d excused himself and gone off into the woods because men had the ability to pee standing up. In other words, wherever they wanted. Unfortunately, the spare was flat too.
Slumping against the van, she tucked a few loose wisps of hair behind her ear. Maybe Matt would have an itch to loosen it again. Gawd. She had to stop thinking about him—and wanting the man to touch her. He was handsome, nice, and he put a spring in her step. She and relationships didn’t mix. And the last one, ended with her becoming undead. Which was every reason for her to run for the hills. Kill me once, shame on you. Kill me twice, shame on me. And she was doing exactly that, running, well, not for the hills, but to the local PPTA Garage Sale so she could dump Matt and.... Her heart ached with a sense of loss. Impossible, of course. She was just being silly. After all, what had there been to lose?
Sighing, she walked to the driver’s side, climbed in and pretended not to wait for Matt. She checked the hazard lights, wiped the dust from the dashboard, and drummed fingertips on the steering wheel. After what felt like hours, which in fact had only been about five minutes in Natalie’s estimation, Matt emerged from the woods.
Natalie watched his lean-hipped walk as he casually approached the minivan. His hands were tucked into the pockets of his shorts and his caramel brown shirt clung to his broad shoulders. He halted in front of the van, and removed his shirt, using it to wipe the sweat from his body .
Zowie. She wondered if he’d done it on purpose to get her attention. Probably, but did she really care? Nope. His broad chest and flat stomach testified to Matt’s use of weights. Brown curls sprinkled his chest, narrowing into a line that disappeared into his shorts. You’ve already seen him naked. Okay. Okay. Be calm. A hot, intense thread of desire weaved through her—silky strands of want and need arrowed down to her core. Her nipples tightened and beaded against the soft cloth of her dress.
The feeling burgeoned, making her throat dry and her hands shake. Lust. This was pure lust. She wet her lips, watching as he ran his long fingers through his hair. Then he stopped suddenly and raised his head to look at her. His predatory stare reminded her
“At the PPTA garage sale tonight?” she suggested.
Matt’s arms tightened around her. “The mayor mentioned something about a picnic.”
“The witches host a barbecue after the garage sale. Should we do it then?”
“Yes,” Matt answered. He kissed the top of her head, and then let her go. He turned around quickly, too quickly, and left the house. She heard him putting the last of the boxes into the minivan.
His kisses, his touches had told her such wonderful things—that she was beautiful and sexy. She steeled herself against the hurt gathering in her chest. It is for the best, she told herself. So buck up, woman. Matt isn’t yours.
And he never will be.
Chapter Eight
N ATALIE LOOKED AT the flat tire and kicked it. She and Matt had been headed to the bed and breakfast, about ten miles outside of town, for the garage sale when the tire blew. Though the road was paved, potholes existed every five or so feet—a typical condition of Oklahoma streets. However, the jumbo hole that had caused the flat happened to be on the stretch of land lacking any civilization. Thick, dense woods shadowed both sides of the road. At this rate, she’d never get to the garage sale. On the up side, she wouldn’t have to deal with Bettie, who’d probably picked out the music, the bridesmaid dresses, and the flowers already.
Neither one of their cell phones worked, either. They were in some kind of dead zone that had nothing to do with zombies, vampires, or ghosts. She scanned the forest, hoping to catch a glimpse of Matt. He’d excused himself and gone off into the woods because men had the ability to pee standing up. In other words, wherever they wanted. Unfortunately, the spare was flat too.
Slumping against the van, she tucked a few loose wisps of hair behind her ear. Maybe Matt would have an itch to loosen it again. Gawd. She had to stop thinking about him—and wanting the man to touch her. He was handsome, nice, and he put a spring in her step. She and relationships didn’t mix. And the last one, ended with her becoming undead. Which was every reason for her to run for the hills. Kill me once, shame on you. Kill me twice, shame on me. And she was doing exactly that, running, well, not for the hills, but to the local PPTA Garage Sale so she could dump Matt and.... Her heart ached with a sense of loss. Impossible, of course. She was just being silly. After all, what had there been to lose?
Sighing, she walked to the driver’s side, climbed in and pretended not to wait for Matt. She checked the hazard lights, wiped the dust from the dashboard, and drummed fingertips on the steering wheel. After what felt like hours, which in fact had only been about five minutes in Natalie’s estimation, Matt emerged from the woods.
Natalie watched his lean-hipped walk as he casually approached the minivan. His hands were tucked into the pockets of his shorts and his caramel brown shirt clung to his broad shoulders. He halted in front of the van, and removed his shirt, using it to wipe the sweat from his body .
Zowie. She wondered if he’d done it on purpose to get her attention. Probably, but did she really care? Nope. His broad chest and flat stomach testified to Matt’s use of weights. Brown curls sprinkled his chest, narrowing into a line that disappeared into his shorts. You’ve already seen him naked. Okay. Okay. Be calm. A hot, intense thread of desire weaved through her—silky strands of want and need arrowed down to her core. Her nipples tightened and beaded against the soft cloth of her dress.
The feeling burgeoned, making her throat dry and her hands shake. Lust. This was pure lust. She wet her lips, watching as he ran his long fingers through his hair. Then he stopped suddenly and raised his head to look at her. His predatory stare reminded her
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