Hitched (Promise Harbor Wedding) - By Erin Nicholas Page 0,50
as you’re not talking about the thought of an infected udder.” Yep, that had worked to cool the sexual tension. For sure. “Infected” was just one of those words.
Gavin chuckled and tugged her back down the stairs. “No, not that one.”
“The one where you and I are naked in your bed? Sure.”
“I’d invite you on this trip too, but there won’t be any cute puppies to play with.”
“Infected cow parts?” she asked. “No, thanks. I’m good here.” She smiled at Lydia, just to rile the girl. “I’m in the mood to make some pasta or something anyway. Comfort food, you know.” At Lydia’s frown Allie snuggled closer to Gavin. “You’ve always loved my lasagna,” she reminded him.
Gavin made a sound of appreciation and Lydia’s frown deepened.
“Get out to George’s,” Lydia said to Gavin, still watching Allie. “The sooner you get back, the less time she’ll spend duct-taped to the chair for trying to put even a foot in my kitchen.”
Gavin chuckled and carefully steered Allie into the living room past Lydia. “Don’t worry, she’ll stay out of your way. Right, Al?”
Allie sighed. Lydia was small, but she seemed tough. There was a definite frustration about her. Allie could absolutely beat her if it came to rounding up a classroom of first graders or putting together a fundraiser or reorganizing a closet, but if it came to arm wrestling or duct tape, Allie was a little afraid.
“Just hang out. Relax,” he said.
There was that relaxing thing again. Not really her specialty.
“And stay out of Lydia’s way,” she said dryly.
He shrugged. “Not a bad idea.”
She looked around the living room. “How long will you be gone?”
“It’s a twenty-minute drive one way. It’s going to be at least an hour.”
An hour. Ugh. She’d go crazy by herself for that long.
He handed her the remote control for the TV and nudged her onto the couch. “Watch a movie.”
“It’s going to be porn,” she told him, aiming the remote at the sixty-four-inch screen.
He coughed and reached for the TV’s off button. “Maybe read.”
“I’ve got two erotic romance novels in my bag,” she said. Which was true.
His gaze went to her mouth and he swallowed. “I don’t suppose you want to play solitaire.”
She gave him a look that she was sure conveyed her thoughts on that idea.
“Just…relax,” he repeated again, obviously out of suggestions. “And stay out of the kitchen.”
She glanced toward the hallway. At least fighting with Lydia would be interesting.
“I don’t think she’s kidding about the duct tape,” he said, reading her thoughts.
She didn’t think so either.
Then he headed for the door to leave her here while he went out to work again.
She frowned and slumped back on the couch with a sigh. This was ridiculous. She was sitting in Gavin’s house in Alaska, alone. A cupboard door banged in the kitchen and she amended her thought to alone with the first person to dislike her in a really, really long time.
She had nothing to do. No one to talk to. No projects to work on. A few months ago she would have given her right arm for an afternoon with nothing to do.
Now she just felt restless.
Allie pushed up off of the couch. She wasn’t watching TV, porn or not. She headed for the deck again. Maybe she’d go for a walk. The sunshine and fresh air and gorgeous scenery had to be good for her.
But she was down the steps off the deck and the equivalent of a block from the house when she looked up at the mountains and thought how much her mom would have loved it here.
The pain hit her directly in the chest and she gasped for breath.
She felt her throat closing and her thoughts began spinning. Memories seemed to come from every direction—her mom taking Allie and her brothers on nature hikes in the fall to gather as many different colored leaves as they could find to make a collage, her mom at the beach, in the garden, riding bikes with Allie and her brothers. Lily had loved the outdoors and this place would have made her ooh and ah for sure. But she’d never see it, never have the chance to walk like this, never…
Allie spun on the path and ran back for the house.
She barreled in through the sliding glass door and then slammed it behind her as if she could shut the thoughts and memories out too. She concentrated on breathing, her hand pressed to her chest, willing her heart to slow.