Family Be Mine by Tracy Kelleher Read Free Book Online

all.”
    â€œIt may be her evening, but she still hasn’t given us the gory details about yesterday’s water aerobics partner.” Julie stopped munching and texting long enough to speak. “Though considering the pool of candidates who would have signed up—yes, I meant that terrible pun—it can’t have been anyone all that interesting.”
    â€œOh, he was all right,” she said with a shrug.
    All right?! her inner voice objected. Tell them about Hunt Phox’s steady stream of irreverent banter, how it had helped to pass the ninety minutes of class with surprising ease, it demanded impatiently.
    Because then I’d have to tell them that not only was he trying to allay our mutual awkwardness, but that fifteen minutes into the workout of stretching and bouncing with Styrofoam noodles and floats, the guy was exhausted.
    So what?
    Because it was clear from his determined look that he didn’t want to be babied, didn’t want to admit his limitations.
    So?
    So I respect his pride and his privacy.
    Respect nothing. You call the tingling sensation youfelt when he gripped your forearms during isometric exercises “respect”?
    â€œEarth to Sarah,” Julie called, interrupting her internal debate. “Are you still with us?”
    Sarah shook her head. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to flake out there. My thoughts just kind of got away from me. Chalk it up to general tiredness and pregnancy muddleheadedness, I guess.” She blinked a few times, warding off the light-headedness she was feeling. It was a little hot in the shop.
    Then she gripped the arms of the chair. “I really have been looking forward to this all day. It’s just the logistics of getting up that seem a bit daunting.” She pressed down to hoist herself up.
    Which is when a weird thing happened.
    Because instead of heaving herself into an upright position, Sarah became strangely conscious, almost out-of-body conscious, of pitching forward. And her nose—it really was her nose and not someone else’s she kept thinking—seemed to be getting closer and closer to the rug. This isn’t part of the playbook, she told herself.
    And that thought came right before her left temple made contact with the cream-colored rug.

CHAPTER FIVE
    H UNT FILLED THE VASE with water from the sink in Ben’s kitchen, turned off the tap, and ambled over to the table, careful not to lose any of the hydrangea branches that jostled against each other. He placed the vase in the center of the wooden farm table and fussed inexpertly at the heavy blooms, the globes of dusty-blue flowers drooping toward the table.
    â€œThere, that should do it,” he said, and backed away.
    â€œI thought I should bring something to Katarina if I was going to drop in.”
    â€œShe’s not here right now to thank you.” Ben leaned against the kitchen counter, his arms crossed, and watched Hunt’s efforts with a skeptically raised brow.
    â€œThe dog trashed another bush in your mother’s yard, didn’t he? And you’re just trying to hide the evidence, right?”
    Hunt shrugged. “Well, something good might as well come from Fred’s enthusiastic communing with nature. Besides, I think she was returning from her book group by six, and I didn’t want her to look out the window and notice the damage. I made it with plenty of time to spare, I think.” He instinctively glanced at his wrist before he remembered that he had stopped wearing one right after he’d finished chemo and no longer had to get to appointments on time.
    No matter, he slipped his hand in the side pocket of his chinos for his BlackBerry. Nothing. Well, that suited him just fine. This was the New Hunt, the Stress-Free Hunt. He started to whistle off-key. The noise caused Fred to lift his head from licking the tile floor around the rubbish bin. He stared at his master with a wrinkled brow that might