Let Me Hold You by Melanie Schuster Read Free Book Online Page A

ached for all the pain his mother had gone through and all the confusion and anger he must have felt. “Your mother seems really happy now,” she said.
    Roland’s face relaxed into a huge smile. “Man, is she ever. It’s ironic, but that man leaving was the best thing that could have ever happened to her. If Duane Johnson hadn’t taken off, she never would have met Renard Casey. She had a part-time job at night working for a cleaning company and she met Renard when she was cleaning his offices. He took one look at her and it was all over for him. He wined her, dined her, won over her wild children and the next thing you know we were back in the ’burbs in a much bigger house, she was pregnant with my baby brother and we all lived happily ever after. He adopted us, which is why my name is Casey and not Johnson,” he added.
    “That’s a beautiful ending for a beautiful lady,” Alana said with a smile. Glendora Casey was indeed a lovely woman and even though she hadn’t spent a lot of time with his parents, Renard Casey had the unmistakable look of a man who was deeply in love with his family, especially his wife. “I love that story, I really do. Do you ever see your birth father?”
    “He died years ago. Never saw him again after he bailed on us. But you know what?” He leaned forward to place his glass on the coffee table.
    “What?”
    “I’m tired of talking about me. Let’s talk about you for a change,” he said in a voice as sweet as the wine they had just consumed.
    A normal Alana response would have been a smart remark guaranteed to put him firmly back in his place, which would have been anywhere she wasn’t. Instead she giggled like a love-hungry teenager, a pretty, rippling sound that tickled Roland’s ears. She curled her long legs up on the sofa and turned so that she was fully facing him. He moved a pillow that was between them and turned so that he was closer to her, his long arm draped across the back of the sofa.
    “I’m not that interesting. I can’t think of one interesting thing about me. I’m a mechanic, that’s all.”
    “Liar, liar, tight, sexy jeans on fire,” he said, brushing her hair away from her face. “You’re not a mechanic; you’re an artist and a damned good one. You’re funny and sweet and incredibly beautiful. You’re full of it, Alana.”
    Mock outrage and merriment filled her eyes and she aimed a small fist at him as if she were going to punch his chin. “That’s a fine way to talk, Roland!”
    He took her hand in his and kissed it. “You didn’t let me finish. I was about to say that you’re full of mystery, charm, sweetness and sensuality. See what happens when you don’t let a man finish a sentence?”
    “That’s really sweet, but I think you’re the one who’s full of it now and I don’t mean mystery.” She giggled madly as he wrapped his arms around her and planted a kiss on the corner of her mouth.
    “Are you coming on to me?” She tried to look stern but failed.
    “Is it working? ’Cause if it is, I am.”
    They both laughed and she relaxed into his embrace.
    “You really are a woman of mystery, though. Why aren’t you painting anymore? Your work is fantastic, Alana. I’ve never seen anything like it.”
    “I do paint. I paint cars,” she said pertly.
    “I’m serious,” he protested. “You’re a real artist. Why aren’t you pursuing your art?”
    “I haven’t quit painting, not completely. I have a studio and everything. Would you like to see it?”
    “Of course I would.” He kissed her cheek and she turned slightly so that their mouths met. It started out slowly, just their lips touching. His tongue outlined her lips and she returned the favor until they were kissing deeply and deliberately, sucking and stroking passionately before Roland broke it off. He tightened his arms around her and made a deep sound that was part passion and part deep regret. “Let’s go see that studio right now before we do something we might