Out of the Shadows by Loree Lough Read Free Book Online Page B

about the myriad of sensations spiraling through her. What she felt with Wade was nothing like what she’d felt all those other times. If that had been love, what was this?

Chapter Three
    W ade never really paid much attention to his home, such as it was, but those few hours at Patrice’s house made him see it differently. “Not your stereotypical bachelor pad,” his sister had said, the one and only time she’d seen it.
    He’d laughed along with Anna—and quickly dismissed her opinion. What did he need with suede sofas, an intricate stereo system, and sophisticated lighting designed to romance a woman? His beat-up foldout bed and mismatched lamps suited him just fine. The only females who’d ever seen them were Anna and his cleaning lady. If anyone had asked him, he would have said that’s how it would stay—until he saw the way Patrice lived.
    Dozens of times, he’d been invited to women’s houses. Except for the blond nurse whose town house resembled the sty of a certain Muppets character, his other lady friends had lived in organized style.
    So why did Patrice’s place seem so… different?
    Like a home.
    Wade blew a stream of air through his teeth. Home is more than a place to store your clothes, eat TV dinners, spend the night, he thought dismally. It’s where a man goes to be with his kids…and the love of his life.
    Things he’d never have.
    A year ago this time, he would have been heading out the door in a tux and shiny black shoes, on his way to one gala or another. Either that, or rushing to pick up some model wannabe for dinner and dancing.
    Wade put the soda bottle on the end table, aimed the remote at the TV and hit the on button. He tucked one hand under his head and squinted at the screen, determined to block Patrice’s pixie face and sweet voice and cozy home from his thoughts. He scrolled through the channels, but nothing—not even the super-sucker vacuum cleaner on the shopping station or the lion-hyena war on the science station—could take his attention from Patrice.
    It was the chocolate chips, he thought, grinning to himself. But when he closed his eyes and licked his lips, cookies were the last thing on his mind.
    After that McMonkey display in Emily Kirkpatrick’s room, he should’ve known she’d be animated, funny, sweeter even than those homemade cookies. Even if the shenanigans with the sick kids hadn’t told him a thing or two about her personality, the visit to her office should have.
    Black-and-white photos of hospitalized kids lined the walls. Numerous illnesses kept them tethered to their beds by plastic tubes, slouching weakly in wheelchairs, leaning on IV poles—yet every child in the pictures had one thing in common: a Patrice-induced smile. On her bookshelves, she’d proudly displayed lumpy animals, flower vases, and candy dishes made of modeling clay—mementos for the young woman they’d lovingly dubbed Monkey Lady.
    She’d been caring for her father for more than a decade, but Wade hadn’t noticed a trace of distress in her demeanor, hadn’t heard a hint of bitterness in her voice. Her dad’s cheerful attitude seemed proof that not even he had detected so much as a note of regret or resentment.
    Wade started counting Patrice’s qualities on his fingers: smart, good sense of humor, a big heart… The spotless house told him she was an “attention to detail” kind of gal, and the tasty cookies she’d baked from scratch said she enjoyed the sweet things of life, too. With all that going for her, who’d expect her to have eyes that would inspire poetry, a figure like the porcelain ballerinas his mom used to collect, and a voice so velvety he couldn’t think of a word to describe it.
    And then there was that kiss….
    He caught himself grinning from ear to ear, like some girl-crazy schoolboy. Wade blocked the TV’s flickering light with the crook of his arm, and shook his head. If he wasn’t careful, this thing could take a nasty turn; if he didn’t