Take Me Home by Nancy Herkness Read Free Book Online

the moment he walked up to me at the bowling alley and asked me to dance. In a bowling alley! It was the most romantic thing anyone had ever done.”
    Claire came around the table to smooth Holly’s uncombed hair. “Sweetie, there are lots of other romantic men in the world. You’ll find one who dances in the bowling alley
and
sticks around when you need help the most.”
    Would Tim Arbuckle dance in a bowling alley?
Claire shoved the question out of her mind.
    Holly wiped her eyes. “If you don’t mind, I’d like to leave soon so I can pick up the girls and take them to school myself. I need to see them for a little while.”
    “I’ll call my boss and Paul’s office while you’re showering.”
    “Pick out anything you want from my closet,” Holly said as she disappeared down the hall. “I think we still wear the same size.”
    The offer made Claire’s throat tighten. In the way of sisters, they had argued about sharing clothes, but when the occasion was important, one always handed over the perfect dress to the other.
    When Claire explained to her boss that she had a family emergency, Davis offered to open the gallery himself. “Take all the time you need,” he said. “Family’s important.”
    Her second call got them an appointment with Paul Taggart in a couple of hours.
    Now Claire was staring at the selection of high-waisted mom jeans and floral-patterned knit tops that constituted Holly’s wardrobe. She didn’t want to insult her sister by preferring to wear the wrinkled, tear-stained clothes from yesterday, but Claire decided when Holly was strong enough, she was going to take her shopping. It was one of the things they used to love doing together.
    Spotting a pair of black jeans squashed in the far corner, she pulled them out and rooted around for a solid-colored top, finally locating a simple white T-shirt with a slightly scooped neck. Not what she would have chosen for a first meeting with an attorney who was also an old friend, but it was Holly’s divorce, after all, not hers.
    “Did you find something?” Holly asked, coming in with a towel wrapped around her head. When Claire held up the jeans, an odd expression crossed her sister’s face before she said, “I haven’t worn those in a long time.”
    “Why not?”
    “I don’t know. Because moms don’t wear tight black jeans.”
    “You’re right. Black jeans just reek of sin and devil worship.”
    Holly looked startled and then began to giggle before she faked throwing her brush at Claire. As she ducked, Claire felt closer to her sister than she had in several years.

“W ELL , I’ LL BE, it
is
my Claire Parker.” Paul Taggart was as tall and lean as she remembered him from their days as foosball partners at the local bar. “I heard you were back in town, but I didn’t believe it.”
    Ignoring her outstretched hand, he drew her into a hug and then held her away from him, his long fingers gripping her arms with all the strength he’d developed spinning the game’s rods. His familiar lightning-fast grin flashed white teeth against an olive complexion. “You look good,” he said.
    “You too, Paul. In fact, you haven’t changed a bit.” Seeing him sent her reeling back to the days of fake IDs and cheap beer. “You know, I always wondered how you finished at the foosball nationals.”
    “Eliminated in the quarterfinals,” he said.
    “Too bad. I was sure you’d go all the way.”
    “I thought so too, but those guys were good.” He gave a rueful wink before turning to her sister. “Morning, Holly. I understand you need some legal assistance. Have a seat.”
    As Holly talked, Claire watched Paul. Sitting there in his tie and shirtsleeves with his suit jacket draped over the back of his chair, he looked confident and professional without being intimidating. The sharp angles of his face hadn’t changed, but he had grown into them.
    His office projected the same reassuring qualities. The golden oak desk was large but not