Clayton's Made-Over Mrs.. Sandra Steffen

Чтение книги онлайн.

       Chapter Three

      The clock on Main Street struck midnight as Clayt cut across the alley and yanked on the door that led to Mel’s place. The wedding reception was finally over. A person would think the folks of Jasper Gulch had never been to a wedding before. They sure hadn’t been in any hurry to leave. As far as Clayt was concerned the whole thing should have ended right after Luke, Jillian, Wyatt and Lisa had left for their honeymoons. The longer it had dragged on, the more disgusted he’d become.

      The light was off in the stairway below Mel’s place, but he didn’t bother searching for the switch. He, Luke and Wyatt had sneaked up there so often when they were kids he could have found his way blindfolded. The apartment had been vacant back then, which had made it the perfect place to steal a kiss from Angela Nelson after the homecoming dance when he was sixteen. He hadn’t been up here much since he’d helped Wyatt and Cletus move Mel’s things in when she bought the diner ten years ago, but the lack of good lighting didn’t slow him down. He had a bone to pick with Mel McCully, and the sooner he got it over with the sooner things could get back to normal around here.

      The thought of Mel grated on his nerves. There was nothing unusual about that. Hell, she’d been like fingernails on a chalkboard for as long as he could remember. Holding that thought, he reached for the doorknob. At the last minute he raised his fist and knocked instead.

      “Come on in. The door’s open.”

      Gearing up to say what was on his mind, he stormed inside. He opened his mouth to speak, only to clamp it shut again when he found himself alone in the room.

      “I’m a little surprised Boomer dropped you off so early, DoraLee,” Mel called, her voice coming from someplace down the hall. “You must be as anxious to talk about the wedding as I am. Make yourself comfortable. I’ll be right out.”

      Clayt had never been very good at waiting, and he’d already been waiting hours to speak his mind. After striding to the window overlooking Main Street, he glanced around the room. The apartment wasn’t large. He could see most of it from here. A kitchen too small to turn around in was completely dark, but light spilled from a narrow hallway on the right There was gray carpeting on the living room floor, a blue sofa on one wall, a television on another and a lamp turned to its lowest setting in the far corner. The coffee table was cluttered; the wicker basket beside it literally overflowed with magazines and newspapers. Mel McCully had never been much of a neat freak, that was for sure.

      Clayt had no idea why that thought made him feel better, but suddenly he figured it wouldn’t hurt to take a seat. He was in the process of pushing an old afghan and a pile of clothes out of his way on the sofa when he caught a movement out of the corner of his eye.

      Mel entered the room talking, her hands fiddling with a clasp in her hair. “So, DoraLee, what did Boomer say about the fact that you caught the bouquet?”

      Her hair fell around her shoulders just as her gaze met his. She had cut her hair.

      “You’re not DoraLee.”

      Feeling like a deer trapped in the glare of headlights, Clayt could only shake his head.

      “What are you doing here?” she asked.

      He straightened and tried to speak, but had to clear his throat and try a second time. “I came to talk to you.”

      She pushed her hair away from her face, then let her fingers trail through the ends as if she wasn’t accustomed to its new length, either. “Oh. Okay. What did you want to talk to me about?”

      He almost tripped over her shoes as he took a step, which made him glance down at her stockinged feet, which drew his gaze over the peach-colored fabric of her skirt and on up to a waist that looked amazingly narrow. Higher, the fabric ended at the creamy expanse of skin he’d never paid much attention to until Rory O’Grady had bent her over his arm earlier.

      Suddenly seething with renewed anger, he narrowed his eyes and gave his head a hard nod. “What the hell were you trying to do tonight?”

      Mel took a calming breath. Honestly, it required an iron will to keep from telling Clayt to take a flying leap. That was what the old Mel would have done. The new Mel pretended not to notice how good he looked with his collar unbuttoned and his dress slacks slung low on his hips. The new Mel looked into his eyes and ever-so-innocently asked, “What do you mean?”

      She could tell her question threw him, but being a Carson, which meant that he was quick-witted, among other things, he recovered almost immediately. “I mean it wasn’t a good idea to let every bachelor in the county see you twirling around the dance floor with the biggest womanizer in South Dakota—especially looking the way you looked tonight. I don’t know what you were trying to prove, but I don’t think—”

      The step Mel took toward him stopped him in the middle of his tirade. “What’s СКАЧАТЬ