Sunburst by Jennifer Greene Read Free Book Online Page A

brush. An hour passed before she lifted her head, startled to find Kyle standing in the doorway. He was a different man again; she didn’t know what had happened. The turquoise was gone from his eyes, and the brooding look was back; his sinewy shoulders were taut beneath the navy shirt he wore.
    For a moment, he said nothing, his eyes skimming over the pieces of furniture waiting for their turn after she finished the desk: a Jenny Lind couch, an old cradle, a huge antique spinning wheel some farmer had unearthed from his attic. Her own advertising had brought in that business, and she was itching to get at her work. But Kyle’s eyes were cold, shifting from the furniture to his wife, kneeling on the rough tarp in a frayed T-shirt and paint-spattered jeans. A bleakness seemed to come over his features, masked quickly by that steel-hard look she’d come to fear. “Kyle?”
    “Erica, did you ask Morgan to come here?”
    The question seemed to come out of nowhere. “Of course not.” She half smiled. “I can’t remember a time Morgan ever waited for an invitation to visit us. Every time he feels a little restless, he just zeroes in.”
    Kyle stared out the window. “Wisconsin happens to be a little farther than Florida, as far as just dropping in goes.”
    “He explained that. The Shanes’ business is expanding, and the Midwest is the direction it’s going.” And since Morgan’s family was in small aircraft, it had always been a simple matter for Morgan to fly wherever he wanted to go. Erica frowned. Kyle knew all of that. She wasn’t sure what he was trying to say. “You would rather he hadn’t come?” she questioned. “And I thought you would be so glad to see him after all this time. You two have been friends for so long…”
    “Yes. And we shared a lot for a very long time.” The conversation on that subject was evidently over. Kyle strode forward, crouched down beside her and took the brush from her hands. His stroke was the stroke of a lover, sensitive and sure, as he finished the side she had been working on and viewed the result with a critical eye. “Your work is perfect, Erica. Exactly right to bring out the texture of the wood.”
    Her heart played John Philip Sousa under his praise. “It’s a beautiful piece to work on.” She promptly forgot about Morgan.
    “And you’re my beautiful lady.” He leaned over to kiss the tip of her nose, and then handed back her brush. Standing up again, he watched as she finished the last side.
    She was promptly unnerved. For one thing, Kyle never stood idle; for another, he never watched what she did; and for another…one of these years of marriage she was going to stop feeling that butterfly reaction to the sheer sex appeal of her husband. It was ridiculous, of course. She knew exactly what Kyle looked like in every mood and type of dress. Still, her heart soared at the proud way he always held his shoulders, was painfully aware of the way his dark shirt showed off his bronzed skin, savored the intense blue of his eyes.
    “You want lessons?” she inquired finally, tongue-in-cheek.
    He chuckled. “I want your attention. When you’re done, Erica—God knows I hate an interruption. But this morning…I just want to show you something.”
    Her eyebrows rose in surprise. “Why didn’t you say anything?” She was finished in short order, though Kyle took the brushes from her hands and cleaned them before she had the chance to do it herself. “What do you want to show me?”
    He shook his head. “Not yet.” He swung an arm around her shoulders as they left the old building, both of them blinking to adjust to the sudden bright sunlight. She could sense just from the feel of Kyle’s hand that his earlier, brighter mood had returned. He led her back to the house, through the front door and up to the kitchen, where he detached himself only long enough to raid the cookie jar.
    “I see. We both only have a thousand things to do. I can certainly understand