Can't Help Falling by Kara Isaac Read Free Book Online Page B

he’d never see the girl again. A pity since she’d intrigued him far more than he’d have liked to admit. Who climbed into a wardrobe in an antiques shop? And, the question that bugged him most, what had she meant with her comment about his not being a Narnia fan? And how did the teacup he’d been looking for for a decade fit into it all?
    He’d almost prayed that they’d cross paths again but had stopped himself. It felt too trivial, too crazy. God had better things to be doing with His time than that. If He was going to do Peter any favors, he’d prefer it involved fixing his shoulder.
    Swinging open the wardrobe door, Peter pushed a few hangers aside to make room for the coat, then shoved it in. It was a squeeze, but there might be room for a couple more.
    He turned and walked back to the bed and picked up a designer-looking beige trench coat to go next. Settling it on a hanger, he turned. “Argh!”
    The garment slipped from his hands and fell onto the floor like a sandcastle collapsing under a wave. He blinked. Once. Twice. Just to make sure he wasn’t hallucinating.
    There she sat. The Narnian wood nymph. Perched on the edge of the wardrobe, boot-clad feet on the floor, clothing swinging around her head, like it was the most natural thing in the world.

Eight
    T HE POOR GUY LOOKED LIKE he’d seen a ghost. Not that Emelia could blame him. Having someone fall out of a wardrobe once was strange. Finding them in a second one was just lunacy.
    She’d held her breath when someone had first opened the door. Almost choked on it when she’d gotten a glimpse of his profile. The only reason Peter hadn’t seen her was because he hadn’t looked down. She’d hoped with all the desperation of Lucy trying to find Narnia a second time that there was only one coat. But when he hadn’t closed the door, she’d known he’d be back and there was no chance he was going to miss a person folded into the bottom of the wardrobe again.
    So she’d made a split-second decision to salvage what little dignity she had left and make herself known before she was found.
    And so, here they were. She half in and half out of the wardrobe. And he staring at her, opening and closing his mouth like he’d lost the ability to speak.
    Emelia took the advantage of surprise to study him a bit more. His hair was as flaming ginger as she remembered, his eyes as green, and his height still as imposing. So she cataloged the smattering of freckles across his face, his wide mouth, hisathletic build, and his ugly sweater. Oh, his so-ugly sweater. Green with blue and red diamonds. It had better have some serious sentimental value, because there was no reason anyone should have been wearing it otherwise.
    He had a nice face. Not one that would be called up for a GQ advertisement anytime soon, unlike Allie’s guy, whose name she’d forgotten, but it was nice.
    He still hadn’t said anything. Instead, he’d kind of sagged onto the bed, still just staring.
    Wow. Now this really was getting awkward. It looked as if the ball was in her court. “Hi. Um, sorry if I scared you.” She pushed herself up as she spoke. Tried to subtly stretch her legs out.
    â€œYou’re real.” There was a kind of childlike wonder in his voice that wrapped around her heart. “I mean, of course you’re real, I just . . .” He flapped one hand around. “Sorry. I’m just not used to finding cute girls in wardrobes.”
    She laughed as he pinched the bridge of his nose. “If it helps, I’m not used to being found in wardrobes either.”
    He seemed to regather himself at her words. Rising to his feet, he stood just under a head taller than her in her flat boots. Which would put him at about six foot three to her five foot nine. “I have a model of the Dawn Treader . I built it with my grandfather.”
    What? “Um, that’s nice?”
    He