Starstruck by Anne McAllister Read Free Book Online Page A

evening and more the domesticated variety, ready to curl up on the hearth rug and go to sleep.
    Also, driving her bus made him infinitely more approachable somehow. As though in spite of the vast discrepancy in their worlds of experience, here at least they had something in common.
    “You missed the turn-off to your hotel,” she said suddenly, noting that they had left the Sheraton far behind.
    “I know.”
    “But— ”
    “I’m taking you home.”
    “But— ”
    “Relax,” Joe commanded, flashing her a smile that suddenly, despite her better judgment, made her do just that. It was a long time since someone had taken over her life, even for a moment. For a change—not as a habit—it felt rather nice. She leaned back against the seat and closed her eyes.
    “Here we are.” Joe pulled into the driveway and cut the engine, turning to look at her again with that knowing glint in his eye. “Safe and sound.”
    “Thank you.” She smiled back at him, feeling somewhat giddy and silly, as though she’d had too much wine, when in fact she hadn’t even touched a drop of the watered-down fruit punch at the reception after his speech.
    “Now you say, ‘Won’t you come in for some coffee,’ ” Joe prompted.
    Liv wet her lips and saw him lean closer. “Won’t you—” Her voice trailed off, breathless.
    “Thank you. Don’t mind if I do.” He seemed to jerk himself back and opened the door, going around the bus and helping her out, like a “proper date” her mother would have said. She giggled to herself.
    The living room was quiet. Even Noel had gone to bed. His math book lay open on the couch, and a pile of unfolded laundry had made it as far as the overstuffed chair. Liv groaned inwardly, wondering what Joe would make of her “homey” atmosphere. But she needn’t have given it a thought, she realized, for he crossed the room to the couch, shoved the math book aside and sank down.
    “Are you sure you want coffee?” she asked. He had collapsed completely after pulling off his coat, loosening his tie and unbuttoning the top two buttons of his shirt. Now he sat, head flung back, eyes closed, totally spent.
    “Mmm? How about tea? Less caffeine,” Joe mumbled without opening his eyes. “Suit you?”
    “Sure. I’ll put the kettle on.” It will give me a chance to collect my wits, she thought, warring with the feelings of warmth and protectiveness that he was evoking in her. She didn’t need that. Why did he have to be so … so … so likeable? Liv slipped out of her high heeled shoes and padded into the kitchen in her stockings, relishing the cool feel of the linoleum beneath her feet. It was the one counterpoint to the sultry May evening, and she wriggled her toes gratefully while she puttered about, putting on the kettle, getting the tea out of the cupboard and setting cups and saucers on a tray. She wondered if Joe took milk or sugar and was about to go back into the living room and ask when she decided not to. Being around him was entirely too heady an experience. She could do with a few minutes more space. So she went to check on the kids while the water got hot. Jennifer had fallen asleep in Theo’s bed, and Liv hoisted her daughter into her arms, burying her face in Jennifer’s blond hair. Touch, she thought, I’m starved for touch. But as she lay Jennifer in her own bed, Liv admitted that it wasn’t entirely that. She wanted, perversely, to feel Joe’s touch again, his lips on hers, his arm around her, pressing her close. Stop it, she thought and, hearing the kettle whistle, she hurried back to the kitchen.
    “Milk or sugar?” she called now, and getting no answer, she shrugged a nd put both on the tray and car ried it back into the living room. The playboy of the western world was fast asleep on the sofa.
    “Joe?” She put his cup on the end table beside him, but he didn’t stir. She stood looking at him, a whole school of feelings swimming like fish in her head. Silently then, she