In the Groove by Pamela Britton Read Free Book Online
Authors: Pamela Britton
reaching down to pick up Sarah's bottle of pills. "Mister Lance told me you gotta take your medicine."
"No, no. Really. I'm fine—"
"You take medicine. Then eat food. That's what he said to do. You do it."
Sarah held out her hand. Rosa poured a single pill into her palm, then stood there until Sarah picked up a glass of water and gulped it down. The thought of chasing the pill with what looked to be chorizo and eggs should have turned her stomach, but funny, the moment she smelled food she was instantly hungry.
"Good," Rosa said after she'd taken a bite. "You eat. I be back to check on you."
And that was her first encounter with Rosa Perez.
The chorizo and eggs, as it turned out, settled into her stomach like a missing relative at a family reunion. Sarah felt better. Or maybe it was the medication, but the fact remained that after she'd consumed a few bites, got up and washed her face, checked on her knee (her leg was still attached), then changed into a pair of loose-fitting jeans and a bright pink blouse, she felt reasonably human.
Enough so that she didn't mind going down to confront Lance Cooper.
She found him in his family room, sitting in the same spot she'd been sitting in last night, and for a moment she just stood there watching him. Sunlight poured in from both sides of the room. His blond hair was slightly mussed as if he'd run his hands through it. Gray eyes peered intently at the television screen opposite him. Sarah noted that even though he was a man, he had the most sensual pair of lips she'd ever seen.
Just then he looked up, those lips curing into a smile. "Hey," he said. "You feeling better?"
Be still my heart.
"Much," she said, looking away. What should she do? Sit down next to him? Stand? She settled on putting her hands in her jeans pockets.
"Good."
"Umm, I was thinking maybe now would be a good time to show me your bus."
"You sure you're up for it?"
"Sure I am."
"Okay then. Follow me."
She had to look away when he stood because if she didn't, she had a feeling she might just check out his rear end, which was not something an employee should do with her boss.
"You keep your bus in your kitchen?" she said as they headed toward the massive room, a cool breeze brushing her cheeks in a way that made her want to close her eyes and tip her head back.
"No. You get to the shop through here."
"You have a shop?"
"Well, yeah."
He opened a door and reached inside. A row of fluorescent lights flicked on with a tink-tink-tink, one after the other, exposing a garage that was easily the size of a department store.
Okay, maybe not that big.
But it was as big as a Wal-Mart service center, and she should know because she had a lot of experience with those.
"Holy guacamole," she breathed because at the far end, in its own private bay, was the most beautiful bus she'd ever seen.
"Like it?" he asked, stepping down and into the garage.
"I get to drive that?" she asked, unable to keep the glee from her voice.
"You do," he said, her pleasure obviously amusing him.
"It's like a rolling Trump Tower."
"It's my home away from home."
She stepped past him, the grin on her face so big it actually hurt her cheeks. "For some reason I thought you had a diesel pusher."
"Really? I thought Sal put in the ad that we needed someone who knew how to drive a bus."
"Well, he did, it's just that when he said motor coach I thought he meant an RV, but this looks like something a celebrity would drive."
He almost told her he was a celebrity, except he had a feeling she wouldn't believe him. "Actually, the company we got it from sells their conversions to a lot of rock stars."
"Wow," she said, feeling smaller and smaller the closer she got. And she had to walk fully fifty yards to reach the darn thing. His "shop" was practically the same size as his house, with shiny cement floors reflecting fluorescent glowing neon patterns that caught her attention for a moment. "It's gorgeous," she said, though she was really
"No, no. Really. I'm fine—"
"You take medicine. Then eat food. That's what he said to do. You do it."
Sarah held out her hand. Rosa poured a single pill into her palm, then stood there until Sarah picked up a glass of water and gulped it down. The thought of chasing the pill with what looked to be chorizo and eggs should have turned her stomach, but funny, the moment she smelled food she was instantly hungry.
"Good," Rosa said after she'd taken a bite. "You eat. I be back to check on you."
And that was her first encounter with Rosa Perez.
The chorizo and eggs, as it turned out, settled into her stomach like a missing relative at a family reunion. Sarah felt better. Or maybe it was the medication, but the fact remained that after she'd consumed a few bites, got up and washed her face, checked on her knee (her leg was still attached), then changed into a pair of loose-fitting jeans and a bright pink blouse, she felt reasonably human.
Enough so that she didn't mind going down to confront Lance Cooper.
She found him in his family room, sitting in the same spot she'd been sitting in last night, and for a moment she just stood there watching him. Sunlight poured in from both sides of the room. His blond hair was slightly mussed as if he'd run his hands through it. Gray eyes peered intently at the television screen opposite him. Sarah noted that even though he was a man, he had the most sensual pair of lips she'd ever seen.
Just then he looked up, those lips curing into a smile. "Hey," he said. "You feeling better?"
Be still my heart.
"Much," she said, looking away. What should she do? Sit down next to him? Stand? She settled on putting her hands in her jeans pockets.
"Good."
"Umm, I was thinking maybe now would be a good time to show me your bus."
"You sure you're up for it?"
"Sure I am."
"Okay then. Follow me."
She had to look away when he stood because if she didn't, she had a feeling she might just check out his rear end, which was not something an employee should do with her boss.
"You keep your bus in your kitchen?" she said as they headed toward the massive room, a cool breeze brushing her cheeks in a way that made her want to close her eyes and tip her head back.
"No. You get to the shop through here."
"You have a shop?"
"Well, yeah."
He opened a door and reached inside. A row of fluorescent lights flicked on with a tink-tink-tink, one after the other, exposing a garage that was easily the size of a department store.
Okay, maybe not that big.
But it was as big as a Wal-Mart service center, and she should know because she had a lot of experience with those.
"Holy guacamole," she breathed because at the far end, in its own private bay, was the most beautiful bus she'd ever seen.
"Like it?" he asked, stepping down and into the garage.
"I get to drive that?" she asked, unable to keep the glee from her voice.
"You do," he said, her pleasure obviously amusing him.
"It's like a rolling Trump Tower."
"It's my home away from home."
She stepped past him, the grin on her face so big it actually hurt her cheeks. "For some reason I thought you had a diesel pusher."
"Really? I thought Sal put in the ad that we needed someone who knew how to drive a bus."
"Well, he did, it's just that when he said motor coach I thought he meant an RV, but this looks like something a celebrity would drive."
He almost told her he was a celebrity, except he had a feeling she wouldn't believe him. "Actually, the company we got it from sells their conversions to a lot of rock stars."
"Wow," she said, feeling smaller and smaller the closer she got. And she had to walk fully fifty yards to reach the darn thing. His "shop" was practically the same size as his house, with shiny cement floors reflecting fluorescent glowing neon patterns that caught her attention for a moment. "It's gorgeous," she said, though she was really
Similar Books
Untamed
Pamela Clare
Spy Games
Gina Robinson
Veneer
Daniel Verastiqui
Lord Devere's Ward
Sue Swift
Sleeping Beauty
Maureen McGowan
Only Love (The Atonement Series)
Elle Chardou
Dead Man's Embers
Mari Strachan
The Islands of the Blessed
Nancy Farmer
44 Scotland Street
Alexander McCall Smith
