Stef Ann Holm by Lucy Back (books to read in your 30s TXT) 📗

men. He suspected it had been a long time since she felt that way.

“Why did you get a divorce?” he asked, leaning back in the chair and settling in for however long it took him to get answers to things he’d been wondering about her.

“Have you and Jacquie really broken up?” she countered.

Drew laughed. “So we’ll take turns answering questions, is that the deal?”

“Maybe.”

“Okay, I’ll play.” He snorted. “Yeah. We broke up for good. It was mutual and for the best. And you? Why the divorce?”

She stared ahead, her profile delicate, yet resolved. “My ex-husband cheated on me.”

A sliver of anger cut through Drew. He could relate. “That’s a bummer.”

“It was. But I’m over it.”

“Are you?”

“I think so,” she said, and he appreciated the honesty in her tone.

“Okay, next. You got me at a good time. I’ll answer anything within reason.”

This time she smiled. The expression lit up her face, made her so attractive to him it was like a slam in the stomach.

“Why is it you’ve never gotten married?” she asked.

“Nobody asked me.”

“You’re full of it,” she teased.

Drew arched his brows, then answered. “I’ve never been so in love that the woman was a constant thought on my mind, a place in my soul, twenty-four-seven. You need that to make it work.”

After a long while, she mutely nodded.

“How long were you married?” he asked.

“Eighteen years.”

“Long time.”

“Very.” She was lost in thought for a moment, then asked, “Did you love Jacquie?”

He wouldn’t taint the memory of their relationship with a lie and cheapen it. “Yes.”

“I’m glad.”

“Why?”

“Because then you know what love is.”

He slid his foot closer to hers, the warmth of his skin kissing the tips of her pretty toes. Lucy held still, sucked in her breath and slowly closed her eyes. “Sugar, I know exactly what love is.”

Her face was colored by golden sunlight, her lips pink and soft. He absolutely loved the high arch of her brows; they gave her a don’t-screw-with-me look at times. Dark hair fanned around her bare shoulders, and he fought the urge to take a thick strand, feel it between his thumb and forefinger. Her skin smelled like flowers, a faint hint caught on the wind, and he inhaled her scent, his nostrils flaring.

Slowly, she opened her eyes, kept her face forward as if she couldn’t trust herself to look at him.

“Cook for me,” he said bluntly.

She turned her attention toward him.

“I want to hire you. I heard Raul’s been making your life rough around the edges and you haven’t had any business.”

“Does everyone know everything about me?” she said, half in disgust.

“I don’t know jack about you, Lucy, except for what you’ve told me. It’s easy to view the surface—that’s all this town does. But to really look beyond that takes time. And trust.” He inhaled, felt the warm air expand his lungs. “Cook for me.”

He didn’t anticipate her response. “No.”

“No?”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“Because. It would be a mistake. And I’ve made plenty of them to last me a lifetime.”

“Why would cooking for me be a mistake? You need the work and I need to eat.”

“But you’re asking for the wrong reasons. I’m not a charity case.” Conviction marked her tone.

“I don’t think you’re charity.”

“Good—because I’m not. I’ll get things going. In fact, I’m on the verge of some really big things happening for my business.” She didn’t elaborate.

He didn’t readily believe her claim, but he wouldn’t dispute it.

He wanted to talk further with her, get her to change her mind about cooking for him, but, to his displeasure, they were interrupted.

“Drew!” one of the girls called, and she came over with a cold bottle of beer. “You’re missing the party!”

Lucy raised her brow at the Laker girl, that arch that spoke volumes.

With a half laugh, Drew resigned himself to the fact that this conversation was over. He rose to his feet, the moment with Lucy broken. He had a boatful of guests, and even though they weren’t what he’d call real friends, he was a gentleman and tried to treat everyone in his life as if they mattered.

At that, he momentarily thought of Mackenzie. He wished she were here right now. She’d love this. He wanted to show her his world, a glimpse of what mattered to him. Friends, a sunny day, a ride in his boat and good company.

The corners of Drew’s mouth lifted and he gave Lucy one last glance. “You look great in that bathing suit.”

Then he left her behind, feeling her gaze on his back. It was a moment when he wished a woman would actually follow him.

Only Lucy Carpenter wasn’t the kind to do that. And he knew it. And maybe that’s why he wanted her. Because she was different.

Matt chugged his orange pop, while Jason and Nutter looked in the raft for spilled Cheetos. They’d pulled up at the shoreline, and were waiting for Nutter’s mom to come out of the bushes.

As soon as they took her back to the dock, their plan was to hit the shore again and look for stuff. Nutter said there were probably a bunch of Indians buried around here. Matt wasn’t sure, but it made a good story and he thought it would be cool to find an arrowhead.

Jason and Nutter cracked the tops to their pop cans and came over to Matt. They stood in a row, the three of them gazing at the dock.

“Drew Tolman’s got a boss-ass boat,” Jason said, taking a deep swig of his orange soda.

“I know. That guy’s, like, loaded with big bucks.”

“I wish I was him,” Jason commented. Then exhaled.

Matt squinted at his older brother, thinking Jason wished he were anyone but himself.

They drank their sodas, then Nutter belched. Matt giggled and Jason let a big one go. It sounded like a grizzly bear.

Tightening his chest, Matt burped.

Jason playfully shoved him. “Is that all you got?”

Matt laughed, drank a deep swig of pop and tried to swallow a bunch of air, too. Then he gave it his best shot. This time his burp