The Secret Wedding Wish. Cathy Thacker Gillen. Читать онлайн. Newlib. NEWLIB.NET

Автор: Cathy Thacker Gillen
Издательство: HarperCollins
Серия:
Жанр произведения: Современные любовные романы
Год издания: 0
isbn: 9781408958827
Скачать книгу
what she seemed to want, he let her go. “They just don’t want to see you hurt. I can understand that. As I said, I am equally as protective about my sister. Which, by the way, is why I’m here. Molly has eloped.”

      Janey blinked, her full attention on him once again. “With Johnny Byrne?”

      “Yesterday, apparently.”

      “Why?”

      “That’s just it. Nobody knows. They’re still in Gatlinburg. Due back tomorrow. Anyway, my mother and stepfather want to put together a reception for the two of them. Friday is the only evening this week The Wedding Inn is open. My mother is hoping you’re not too busy to make the cake.”

      She shot him an unexpectedly flirtatious glance. “Ah. And you’re here to persuade me.” She seemed to like the idea.

      An answering warmth sizzled through him. “I volunteered.”

      As she tilted her head to the side, the silky chestnut strands that had escaped her hair clip gently brushed the slender nape of her neck. “Well, I do owe you a favor.” Her eyes twinkled merrily.

      “Which is the polite way of saying you’re already booked.”

      Janey stepped closer and stood, gloved hands on her hips, legs braced apart, her sneaker-clad feet planted firmly in the grass that edged her vegetable garden. “I can fit it in.” She paused to wet her lips. “I’m going to have to know what kind of cake they want, though.”

      “I’ll have Molly and Johnny come over to your shop tomorrow, as soon as they arrive,” Thad promised, thinking he might stop by, too. After all, he was on his own schedule, this time of year. It wouldn’t be that way two months from now. Which meant whatever courting had to be done to make her his, would have to be done now. And he did want to make her his. “So what are you doing here?” He nodded at the garden.

      “Weeding. Or trying to—I don’t seem to be getting very far.” She dropped to her knees beside the row of bush beans, and picked up her hand tool. “Want to help?”

      Thad made a face as he hunkered down beside her. He knew it wasn’t going to win him any points with her, but he decided to be honest with her anyway. “It’s not really my thing.”

      She shot him a glance from beneath a fringe of thick, chestnut-colored lashes. “That’s surprising, given the fact your dad owns a gardening and landscape business.”

      Deciding if he was going to hang around, he might as well get comfortable, Thad shrugged and dropped to the grass beside her. He reclined next to her, long legs stretched out, the weight of his torso resting on his bent elbow. “I never was much for rooting around in the dirt.”

      She rooted out a sticker bush and a clump of dandelion with a practiced motion of the spade and set them aside. “Nicely put.”

      “Not that you don’t look good doing it.” She did. She really did. Watching the play of worn denim across her slender thighs and delectably sweet butt, and the taut stretch of cotton across her breasts, it was all he could do not to tumble her here and now and see how far he’d get in his pursuit of her. The responsible adult part of her might protest, but the reckless impetuous woman and wild heart inside would probably be all for it.

      Unfortunately, the fact was they were in broad daylight, and there wasn’t so much as a privacy fence or decent hedge to shield them from the prying eyes of the neighbors, so any real move on his part would have to wait.

      She grinned over at him. “Flattery will get you precisely…nowhere.”

      “Then how about a date?” Thad asked, beginning to realize he wanted a lot more than a few stolen kisses or casual conversations with her. He let his glance rove her hair, her face, her lips, before returning ever so slowly and deliberately to her molten amber eyes. “Where will that get me?”

      Chapter Four

      “You’ve got to be kidding,” Janey said, wishing she had on something aside from her threadbare shorts and T-shirt.

      Thad continued reclining beside her, looking like there was no place on earth he would rather be. “Do I look like I’m kidding?” he asked with a sexy half smile.

      No, Janey thought. He looked like he wanted to kiss her again. And she couldn’t allow that. Not when she had inadvertently given so much of her feelings away, so quickly already. Hadn’t she learned her lesson when she had gotten involved so quickly with Ty? Hadn’t the years of marital misery taught her anything about the dangers of investing her heart in what was, at best, a short-lived passion?

      Yes, Thad was by far the best kisser she had ever met. And was probably the best lover, as well, although she promised herself she would never find that out. But she couldn’t—wouldn’t—let herself sink back into the cycle of recklessness and regret that had so characterized her early life. She was an adult now, a mother of a twelve-year-old boy. She had a duty to herself and to Chris to behave responsibly. And responsible mothers did not indulge in exciting, passionate love affairs that burned white-hot, for an exhilarating time, and then faded, leaving the ex-lovers feeling drained and disillusioned, emptier than before.

      But not about to get into all that with Thad, she only said, “I thought we agreed that my son is going to be working for you, picking up towels in the locker room or something.” She just hadn’t told Chris yet.

      Конец ознакомительного фрагмента.

      Текст предоставлен ООО «ЛитРес».

      Прочитайте эту книгу целиком, купив полную легальную версию на ЛитРес.

      Безопасно оплатить книгу можно банковской картой Visa, MasterCard, Maestro, со счета мобильного телефона, с платежного терминала, в салоне МТС или Связной, через PayPal, WebMoney, Яндекс.Деньги, QIWI Кошелек, бонусными картами или другим удобным Вам способом.

/9j/4SDbRXhpZgAATU0AKgAAAAgADAEAAAMAAAABAg0AAAEBAAMAAAABArwAAAECAAMAAAADAAAA ngEGAAMAAAABAAIAAAESAAMAAAABAAEAAAEVAAMAAAABAAMAAAEaAAUAAAABAAAApAEbAAUAAAAB AAAArAEoAAMAAAABAAIAAAExAAIAAAAgAAAAtAEyAAIAAAAUAAAA1IdpAAQAAAABAAAA6AAAASAA CAAIAAgADqYAAAAnEAAOpgAAACcQQWRvYmUgUGhvdG9zaG9wIENTNiAoTWFjaW50b3NoKQAyMDE1 OjA4OjEyIDE3OjM1OjQyAAAEkAAABwAAAAQwMjIxoAEAAwAAAAH//wAAoAIABAAAAAEAAAXcoAMA BAAAAAEAAAfQAAAAAAAAAAYBAwADAAAAAQAGAAABGgAFAAAAAQAAAW4BGwAFAAAAAQAAAXYBKAAD AAAAAQACAAACAQAEAAAAAQAAAX4CAgAEAAAAAQAAH1UAAAAAAAAASAAAAAEAAABIAAAAAf/Y/+0A DEFkb2JlX0NNAAL/7gAOQWRvYmUAZIAAAAAB/9sAhAAMCAgICQgMCQkMEQsKCxEVDwwMDxUYExMV ExMYEQwMDAwMDBEMDAwMDAwMDAwMDAwMDAwMDAwMDAwMDAwMDAwMAQ0LCw0ODRAODhAUDg4OFBQO Dg4OFBEMDAwMDBERDAwMDAwMEQwMDAwMDAwMDAwMDAwMDAwMDAwMDAwMDAwMDAz/wAARCACgAHgD ASIAAhEBAxEB/90ABAAI/8QBPwAAAQUBAQEBAQEAAAAAAAAAAwABAgQFBgcICQoLAQABBQEBAQEB AQAAAAAAAAABAAIDBAUGBwgJCgsQAAEEAQMCBAIFBwYIBQMMMwEAAhEDBCESMQVBUWETInGBMgYU kaGxQiMkFVLBYjM0coLRQwclklPw4fFjczUWorKDJkSTVGRFwqN0NhfSVeJl8rOEw9N14/NGJ5Sk hbSVxNTk9KW1xdXl9VZmdoaWprbG1ub2N0dXZ3eHl6e3x9fn9xEAAgIBAgQEAwQFBgcHBgU1AQAC EQMhMRIEQVFhcSITBTKBkRShsUIjwVLR8DMkYuFygpJDUxVjczTxJQYWorKDByY1wtJEk1SjF2RF VTZ0ZeLys4TD03Xj80aUpIW0lcTU5PSltcXV5fVWZnaGlqa2xtbm9ic3R1dnd4eXp7fH/9oADAMB AAIRAxEAPwDPdMqvYQ5stO4HUEahXGmoWs9Zm+kOHqMHdv5zf/Mf8J/NqGffQ/KFtjm3B7D6lzHQ LrAH1/amMfstx2usFX6K39J+i9X9N6v6TcySPGIcJIMTLi6afovP8pjBxnJxCxIR4P0q/ecp/JUJ V2zI6NvefTsg79g3iBuLTT/hB/MM31u936xv3/o1AX9G0lj9HEkl3Ld73en7bfY70DVS2737H1+r 6NvqJmv7pdONVuGpBTgK2b+jNcRDrGlxIcxxaWtJDmNi1/vdW3dU/wD0v+krs/m6jrqi4kbGA/mh 0gfBzzv/AM5IX2P1TfirRMSm9Wv94feEg+v95v3hGj2VoySTepX+837wl6lf7zfvCVHsi2SUqPqV /vt+8JepX+8PvCVHspIyuywxWxzzIb7Wl2rjtY32/nPd9BTFFwBcanhrNXOLXAASa5cY9v6Rr6/6 6fBy66rtjrRXTcWtudBs9on/AATH1uf9LZ7Xb1Zysz6ba725Rua+uyz0n17WusdkltPqP+jZZa/6 bP0eytNNg1Sq0QscEkAOKSdbH7etv//Qy7X+0nyXpHT6+is6LRZZi49+VXg15Nleyv1HN2fTcbP9 I9jve9ecPrkEHurjfrT9YMequmrKa1lLWs