Bad Moon Rising by Loribelle Hunt Read Free Book Online Page B

what happened to the old iron bed or the lacy coverlet that topped it. Summer would know.
    She smiled and walked back to her room. There was a time when she was an overly dramatic teenager that she’d thought their lives so tragic. Her parents and Summer’s were killed in a car crash the year they turned ten, and they’d come to live with Tinnie. Then Tinnie had died when they were sixteen and Meg and her parent’s had moved in. But it wasn’t tragedy. It was just life.
    She paused outside the door, took a deep breath, and pushed it open. Sunlight streamed in the un‐curtained bay window, making the big brass bed taking up center stage gleam. Her eyes widened in amusement.
    It was a far cry, and a vast improvement, over the frameless twin that used to sit there.
    Delighted, she stepped in and ran her fingers lightly over the old quilt covering it. She recognized it as a tie quilt. Maybe it was a family heirloom, as hers were. Tinnie’s were stored back at her house.
    There was no other furniture in the room, but the closet was full of Trey’s clothes, and she spotted her bag in the corner. He must have brought it up when she was looking downstairs.
    Why had he bought the house that used to mean so much to her?
    Did he know it had belonged to the Duveau cousins? She realized with a start that he couldn’t have, since he hadn’t known they were cousins when he bought it, and Summer was the sole owner when it sold. And she’d arranged to miss the closing. Just an odd coincidence.
    She found him in the library unloading books onto shelves and joined him. They worked in companionable silence for a couple of hours, the boxes piling up in the hall, when her growling stomach finally claimed her attention.
    “Is your kitchen stocked?” she asked.
    He pushed another handful of books onto a top shelf. “It is, but I didn’t do it, so I’m not sure what’s there. Let’s go look.” He grinned down at her, dusting hands on his jeans. “Maybe I’ll cook you dinner.”
    She followed him to the kitchen, a little surprised to find herself 42

    Loribelle Hunt

    staring at his butt on the way. Well, why not? It’s such a fine specimen. As the afternoon wore on, her anger faded and curiosity rose.
    He pulled two marinating steaks out of the refrigerator and she arched an eyebrow. Expecting company, was he?He grinned. “What can I say? I’m an optimist.”
    She laughed.
    “There’s a bottle of wine in there. Why don’t you pour us a glass?”
    “Sure,” she answered, pouring wine into the two glasses he handed her, while he turned on the stove.
    He picked up a glass. “What should we toast to?” he asked.
    She looked around the kitchen and slowly smiled for the first time at the prospect of the house having new owners. “To your new house, of course.”
    The only item of Tinnie’s still there was the old, scarred kitchen table. No one could figure how to get it out. Too wide for the doorways it could have been taken apart, but none of them had had the heart to do it.
    It still sat in the room surrounded by six chairs. She pulled one out and sat, lovingly tracing old grooves and smiling a little.
    He looked over his shoulder at her. “I can’t find a way to get that out of here other than taking an axe to it.”
    She sucked in a breath. “Don’t you dare,” she said softly. She looked up and met his gaze. “I grew up in the house, you know.”
    His pose didn’t change, but she was aware she had his full attention.
    “I didn’t know.”
    She nodded. “When my grandmother Tinnie died, she left it to me, Meg, and Summer. We left it empty for years. When I needed money to start the bakery, they bought me out. Then Meg needed money to buy her house, and Summer bought her out. And finally, Summer decided she didn’t want to ever live here, and we decided it would be best to sell it.”
    She took a sip of her wine. “Why did you buy it?”
    “Why?” He shook his head and smiled, as if amused at himself. She