Meeting at Midnight by Eileen Wilks Read Free Book Online Page B

she calls found art these days. Some people call it junk—” her grin flashed “—but she’s had two showings at a prestigious gallery in Taos. She scavenges for things people throw away, then paints this or that, puts the objects together and ends up with some pretty interesting pieces.”
    â€œReal modern stuff, I take it.”
    â€œWell, one critic called it ‘an entrancing collision between the primitive and the twenty-first century,’ but yes. I have a sneaking suspicion it wouldn’t be your type of art.” She tossed the pajama shirt on the back of the toilet, then picked up the flannel shirt she’d brought down earlier.
    â€œWhat about your father? What does he do?”
    â€œWho knows? He came down with a bad case of respectability a few years after I was born. Poor man. I don’t think he ever recovered. Here, hold out your arm.”
    She didn’t say anything else while I eased my right arm slowly into a sleeve, then my left. This gave me plenty of time to kick myself. She’d mentioned her mother several times, her father not at all. That should have clued me in.
    â€œI know your shoulder is hurting,” she said cheerily. “Turn around and let me do up the buttons. That way you can support that arm until we get the sling back on.”
    I did turn, but ignored the rest of her instructions. “Sometimes I don’t watch where I’m putting my big feet. I stepped in the wrong place. I’m sorry.”
    Her eyes flicked to mine, surprised. Then a wry smile tipped her lips. “Ben, you’re supposed to pretend there’s nothing beneath my flip attitude but more flip.”
    â€œI’m not much good at pretending.”
    â€œNo, you aren’t,” she said so gently she seemed to be touching on some great secret. “I think I like that about you.”
    She liked my voice, too. And I liked all sorts of things about her. My gaze drifted to her mouth. “I can’t imagine what it would be like to grow up with so little family. I’m used to a crowd.”
    â€œBut you were a lot older than the others, weren’t you? You said Duncan is the closest to you in age, and he’s five years younger. That’s not a big difference now, but it would have been when you were growing up. You wouldn’t have played together, or gone on double dates when you were teens, or—oh, all the things an only child thinks siblings are for.”
    â€œNo, but that’s not…they mattered. I mean, it mattered that they were around, that…hell. I don’t know how to say it.”
    â€œMaybe that they were a huge part of your life? And you love them.”
    I nodded, relieved that she understood. “I’m not great with words.”
    â€œI think you do pretty well.” She paused, then went on quietly, “I haven’t seen or spoken to my father since I was eight. Um…he and Daisy weren’t married.”
    I felt privileged, as if she’d handed me a private little piece of herself that she didn’t leave lying around where just anyone might see it. “He missed a lot, then. Practically everything that matters.”
    â€œHe did, didn’t he?” Her smile slid back in place. “More than me, because I had Daisy.”
    â€œThe two of you are close?”
    She nodded, then just stood there looking up at me, curiosity and something else in those incredible eyes.
    It occurred to me that I wouldn’t have to bend far to taste her smile.
    My heartbeat picked up. I could see the pulse beating in the hollow of her throat, too. Maybe she was having the same thoughts I was. Maybe she wanted me to kiss her. That sweet notion had my head dipping toward hers.
    Had I lost my ever-loving mind?
    Reality snapped back in place. So did my head. Panicked, trying to cover up the moment, I fumbled for the buttons of my shirt.
    I forgot that I couldn’t use my right