Fast & Loose by Elizabeth Bevarly (best classic books to read txt) 📗

sure don’t,” Bree said. She punctuated the comment by kicking Lulu under the table, a not-so-subtle reminder to ixnay on the ishwasherday anufacturingmay.

Ightray. Lulu had orgottenfay. This was all about Eebray.

“Anyway,” she said, “that’s what I ooday. Ah, do. For a living.”

She still couldn’t tell what Cole was thinking, but at least he wasn’t looking at her like she was a few brushstrokes short of a paint-by-numbers horse head.

“Bree’s job is much more interesting than mine,” she said halfheartedly.

“But your job is the most interesting of all,” Bree told Cole enthusiastically. “What’s it like, living a lifestyle of the rich and famous?”

His expression darkened almost imperceptibly, but Lulu noticed the change and realized this wasn’t a line of conversation he wanted to follow. This time she was the one to kick Bree under the table in an effort to warn her away from the champagne wishes and caviar dreams thing.

But Bree either didn’t get the hint or chose not to take it, because she leaned in closer to Cole and said, “I mean, I can’t begin to imagine what it’s like to have everything you ever wanted. Dream job. Oodles of money. California real estate. Oodles of money. Racehorses. Oodles of money. Not to mention good looks and fashion sense.” She smiled. “And did I mention oodles of money?”

Lulu winced at her friend’s forwardness. Bree was pouring it on even more than usual. Normally, she was a little more tactful. Normally, she only mentioned oodles of money twice.

She waited for Cole to say something snappish, like that it was none of Bree’s business. Or maybe he’d be polite and just pretend he hadn’t heard her. Or maybe he was just going to stall for a while, she thought further when he only lifted his beer to sip it, and set down the glass without a word. When he finally looked up with an apparent intention to reply, he dragged the tip of his middle finger around the rim of his glass, slowly, carefully, and with great attention. And when he opened his mouth to speak, it was to look not at Bree, but at Lulu.

Then, very softly, he said, “Well, I wouldn’t say I have everything I’ve ever wanted.”

And suddenly, it was as if the finger making its way leisurely around the rim of the glass was making its way leisurely up her spine instead. Something in his curiously green eyes spoke of barely banked embers and smoldering coals that might burst into flame again any minute if given the slightest little poke. Lulu felt like she was sitting in front of the torch in her studio, the one she had to burn at about eight million degrees to melt the glass to the consistency she wanted before molding it. It was a heat unlike any other in the world, one that surrounded and smothered and entered every pore, settling deep under the skin, scorching down to the bone. A heat that should have been uncomfortable, even unbearable, but was instead oddly pleasurable, because it lent to the creation of something wondrous and beautiful. A heat that would be destructive under other circumstances, but in glassmaking generated something lovely and unique, and fragile enough to need constant care.

She had no idea what to say in response to Cole’s remark. She was too busy battling that heat and being swamped by that heat and having that heat seep under her skin. And try as she might, she simply could not tear her gaze from the slow, methodical movement of his fingertip around the rim of the glass…and around again…and again…and again…and again…

“Wow, is that the time? I had no idea it was so late. We really have to go.”

Lulu started at the rush of words, so surprised was she at hearing them. Especially when she realized it was she who had blurted them out. Not only could she not remember having chosen to say such a thing, but she didn’t understand why she might have said it, since things were just starting to get interesting with Cole, and even more interesting with his fingers, and—

Oh, right. That was why she’d said it. Because she wasn’t supposed to find Cole, or his fingers, interesting. Bree was supposed to be doing that. Even without Bree in the picture, Lulu’s getting interested in any part of Cole—or any of Cole’s parts, for that matter—would be crazy. Lulu liked men who were slow and steady. Not men who were fast and loose. Not to mention only in town temporarily.

When she looked over at Bree, her friend was gazing at her with both curiosity and suspicion. After a moment, though, she nodded slowly and said, “Um, okay. I guess you do have to get up early to make it to the dishwasher plant on time, don’t you, Hortense?”

“First shift,” Lulu replied brightly.

She grabbed her purse from the chair where she’d placed it and stood, noting that Bree took a moment longer and was eyeing her now with something akin to wariness. She wondered if her friend had detected the odd sizzle of…whatever it was Lulu had felt sizzling when she looked at Cole…and wanted it to fizzle out as much as Lulu did. Because Lulu did want to fizzle the sizzle. Number one, because Cole Early was supposed to be sizzling with Bree. And number two…

Huh. That was funny. She couldn’t remember reason number two. Oh, yeah, she recalled suddenly. Because he wasn’t her type.

“Thanks for the drinks, Cole,” Bree said reluctantly, clearly not wanting to let her catch, however tenuous, get away. As if wanting to ensure that didn’t happen, she added, “Are you staying at the Ambassador? Will I see you in the bar again?”

He shook his head, but Lulu wasn’t sure if he was answering only one of the questions, or both. “No, I’m not. I’ve got a—” He halted abruptly, then continued, “I’m staying somewhere else.”

“Well, I hope to see you again,” she added anyway. “Soon.”

Under her breath, for Lulu’s ears alone,