Luck of the Draw (A Betting on Romance Novel Book 1) by Cheri Allan Read Free Book Online Page B

He looked at her, his fork hovering over his food. “Did I say something wrong?”
    “I don’t drink.”
    “I see.”
    “I mean —”
    “No, don’t explain. I’m sorry if I said something —”
    “You didn’t say anything. It’s just... my husband was an alcoholic, and I used to drink... I mean, I’m not an alcoholic. I used to drink it—alcohol, that is—but I don’t... now.”
    Jim stared at her. Blinked.
    She sighed. “I sound like a complete loon, don’t I?”
    “Is that a trick question?”
    “Oh Lord,” she laughed then, what she prayed was a non-maniacal sound, “I do. I’m sorry.” She picked up her fork and stabbed some lettuce in an effort to act normal. “My family’s been driving me a little crazy lately, is all. Not that they’re all bad, just—intrusive sometimes.”
    “I can relate to that.”
    “You’re from a large family?”
    “There were seven of us.”
    “Including parents?”  She picked up her tea.
    “Just kids.”
    She choked on her tea.  “Ohmigod! I can’t imagine giving birth seven times!”
    “If it makes it any better, three of them are actually my cousins. They came to live with us after my aunt and uncle died in a fire.”
    She set the glass down with a thud. “How awful. I mean, I’m so sorry.”
    Jim shrugged. “I was eight, so it was a long time ago.”
    “Still, that’s awfully young to deal with something like that.”
    “It’s in the past.” He motioned to his bowl. “Do you mind if I have more salad?”
    She glanced at his empty bowl. Randy had hated vegetables. “Of course!” But before she could pass the serving bowl, a shrill tone filled the air.
    Jim pulled something from his waistband, stared at it intently for a moment, then jumped from his seat. “I’ll have to take a rain-check. I’ve gotta go.”
    “Go?”
    He nodded, downing the last of his iced tea. “Fire call.”
    “But... your salad. And I haven’t paid you for the pizza!”
    “My treat,” he said, striding to the door.
    He turned abruptly. “But if you decide to buy me ice cream at the Lick N’ Dip while you’re in town, I might be persuaded. Their Kahlua fudge brownie is killer good.”
    “Yay!” cheered Liam from the dining room. “Ice cream!”
    Kate was about to tell him ice cream hardly made up for a whole meal, but he wasn’t listening, was already half-way to his truck. Which was okay.
    If she were being perfectly honest, she liked ice cream. She liked ice cream a lot .

     
    CHAPTER FIVE
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    “G RAMS SAID THERE’S A HOT YOUNG widow over at the cottage. Thought I might swing over and see if she needs a tour guide.”
    Jim stared as his cousin pulled a water bottle from his truck and downed it in one long draw. They were both filthy and sweaty, and the acrid smell of smoke hung in the air but Jim barely noticed as his cousin’s words sank in.
    Young. Widow.
    He was an idiot for not figuring it out sooner. Kate Mitchell wasn’t separated. Her husband was dead.
    “So, whaddya think? Too soon after he’s kicked the bucket for me to pop in and console her?”
    Jim fished for his eye drops on his console. “You’re some piece of work, Carter. I can’t believe you’re talking about this now. Reynolds here just lost his garage. He only finished it last summer. That John Deere he was restoring is toast. And there’s no way Grams said she was ‘hot.’”
    “You’re right. Her exact word was ‘charming.’ But that’s better than ‘sweet’ or ‘smart,’ which we both know are code for ugly.”
    “And charming means?”
    “At least pretty. And pretty’s good enough for me.”
    “You amaze me. And I don’t mean that in a good way.” Jim squeezed drops into each eye. Bloody hell, if Carter smelled a woman, he wasn’t one to waste time. But Kate wasn’t interested. She’d made that perfectly, ego-bruisingly clear.
    Not that his libido had been listening.
    “Thought I’d drop by tomorrow before the cookout at Grams.