Taming A Fortune. Nancy Robards Thompson

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       Chapter Seven

      The kids settled back on the blankets to watch the movie. Toby and Angie did, too, stretching out next to each other.

      By the time Han Solo was telling Leia that he was in it for the money, Toby leaned over and whispered to Angie, “Is there any more popcorn?”

      He hadn’t eaten lunch, so he’d pretty much wolfed down the spaghetti Angie had set out for him, but it really hadn’t quite filled him up.

      “I’ll run in and make some more,” she said, getting to her feet.

      He hadn’t meant to put her to work. “You don’t have to do that.”

      “Actually, I was about to fall asleep. It’ll help me stay awake.”

      Toby followed her into the kitchen. She may not need any help, but he saw an opportunity and decided to take it. With the kids so engrossed in the movie, he didn’t know when they’d get another chance to be alone. And the longer he’d lain next to her, the more he’d craved some one-on-one adult time with her.

      When she realized he’d followed her into the kitchen, she said, “I’m so sorry about bringing up the C-word earlier.”

      “Don’t even give it another thought. Everyone slips up now and then. Besides, I was the one who brought up melanoma in the first place. And if it makes you feel better, the social worker told me that the kids need to talk about their mom. It’s better for them to process her death in a normal, healthy way. When they lived with their aunt, they saw a bad example of hiding emotions behind the bottle.”

      Just thinking about Barbara reminded him of the unsettling conversation they’d had. He’d almost forgotten about it once he’d gotten home. Angie had a way of getting his mind off his trouble, which was one more thing he liked about her.

      Should he tell her about the call?

      He didn’t consider the idea very long. He didn’t want to dump any more on her than he had to, no matter how easy she was to talk to. She wasn’t in this thing for the long haul anyway.

      Besides, why did he want to think about Barbara when he had Angie in front of him now, standing at the stove, heating oil and popcorn kernels in a covered skillet?

      When the corn began popping against the lid, she moved the pan across the burner—back and forth, faster and faster—her breasts swaying with the motion.

      Aw, man. If he didn’t stop gaping at the mesmerizing sight, those kernels wouldn’t be the only thing popping.

      “Is the popcorn done yet?” Justin yelled from the open doorway.

      If you were talking about being hot and bothered, Toby was certainly close to done.

      “Just about,” Angie called out to the boy. “I’ll bring it out to you in just a minute.”

      Justin ran back to the movie, and Toby decided he’d better do the same before his thoughts got the better of him.

      A few minutes later, Angie joined them in the yard, bringing the replenished bowl with her and settling back into her spot next to Toby. Even the action scenes, with swishing lightsabers, zooming X-wing fighters and intergalactic battles, didn’t keep Toby from wanting to reach out and grab more than a handful of popcorn.

      But he managed self-control.

      By the time the credits started to roll, he looked over and saw that Kylie and Justin had fallen asleep.

      “I guess we’ll have to carry them in to bed,” he whispered to Angie, who’d nuzzled into the pillow next to his.

      But she didn’t answer.

      He leaned over and, while tempted to brush back the strands of hair that had fallen across her face and tell her the movie was over, he let her sleep.

      Brian, thank goodness, picked up his blankets and pillow and made his way into the house on his own. But Toby had to carry the smaller kids one at a time.

      Thanks to Kylie’s overzealous efforts to make them all cozy for the movie, the mattresses were completely bare. Remaking all the beds seemed like way too much work to do. So instead, he went back to the grass, retrieved a couple of blankets and put one over each of the sleeping children.

      When he returned outside and saw Angie curled up under the stars, the corner of his comforter tucked under her chin, he stood there and watched her for a while.

      Now what? Wake her up? Send her home?

      Invite her inside?

      He looked back at the house. Considering the bare mattress that awaited him inside, he figured, what the heck.

      She looked so soft, so comfortable. Why not let her nap? He could certainly use a little snooze himself.

      So he lay down next to her, just as they’d done when the movie had first begun. Then he pulled a blanket over the top of them. Surely one of them would wake up in an hour or so. At that time, they could each go their own way, she to her house and he to his own room.

      And no one would be the wiser.

      Toby might not be able to invite Angie to actually spend the night in his bed, but this seemed like the next best thing.

      * * *

      Angie wiggled backward, not quite ready to wake up from her dream.

      When had her bed gotten so small and cramped?

      Her back was pressed up against a warm wall, her bottom nestled against something hard.

      Her waist was tethered down.

      She didn’t feel trapped or claustrophobic, though. Nor did she feel compelled to move away. Rather, she snuggled deeper into the cocoon of comfort.

      Whatever had been clamped on her waist slowly traveled upward until it reached under her shirt and began to fondle her breast.

      Ooh. Nice. She sighed and arched in contentment, her dream getting better by the minute.

      A warm breeze whispered along her neck, as lips brushed against the sensitive skin below her ear.

      She leaned СКАЧАТЬ