The One You Want by Gena Showalter Read Free Book Online Page B

others—surely—but somehow she survived. Barely. Bart actually stuck around, even when everyone else took off. Brook Lynn would have stayed to help Kenna clean up, but Jessie Kay was off no-one-knew-where again, and Brook Lynn was determined to find her. Plus, Brook Lynn would be picking Norrie up from the sitter.
    “I don’t know if you heard,” Bart said, watching Kenna mop, “but my divorce is now official.”
    “That’s...good?”
Will I be blamed?
    “Chumley,” a hard voice suddenly boomed. “A word.”
    Dane! Her gaze cut through the dim haze of the restaurant to find him in the doorway, wearing another suit, this one navy pin-striped and pure business chic. His dark hair stuck out in spikes, as if he’d plowed his fingers through the strands one too many times.
    Kenna’s heart kicked into warp speed.
    “My pleasure, Mr. Michaelson.” Grinning excitedly, Bart joined Dane.
    Dane led him outside. Why was he so angry about the potential conversation? Because he was jealous?
    But...no. Impossible. Kenna looked nothing like his ladyloves. Once underdeveloped, childbirth had left her
over
developed and in no way slender. And maybe the cookies she loved had something to do with it. But she wasn’t elegant, either. Wasn’t even close.
    Besides, she and Dane were friends, nothing more. That’s what he’d wanted. And he was a good friend. At dinner her mother had taken the bowl of rolls away from her, saying, “Don’t you want to watch your carbs, darling?”
    Dane had grabbed the rolls, buttered half for himself and half for Kenna. They’d eaten them, too. Every single one. It had been a wonderful moment of camaraderie. The support she’d never before had from a male.
    A girl could become addicted to that.
    Dane returned—alone. He removed his jacket, rolled up his sleeves and began stacking chairs on tabletops. What was he doing? And were those handful of dark spots on both his arms
tattoos?
    Don’t stare! Don’t react!
    Too late. The blood in her veins heated, and her belly quivered. He was just so freaking sexy.
    “What did you say to him?” she asked.
    “That I had a collection of jars filled with human hearts and he was about to make an unwilling donation.”
    Her jaw dropped open. “You did not.”
    “Oh, honey. I sure did.”
    She giggled, saying, “But why?”
    His gaze traveled over her, heating, and her amusement died. “I’ll let you know as soon as I figure it out.”
    O-kay, how was she supposed to respond to
 
that?
    This man was such a mystery to her.
    She thought back to what she
did
know about him. He’d had a younger brother, Daniel, and the two had done everything together. Until Daniel drowned. It happened the winter before the Michaelson/Starr affair.
    At the funeral, she’d watched Dane stand stoic and pale at the graveside, not giving way to the flood of tears that had surely been building up. The left side of his face had been bandaged. Though she’d been only six years old, his obvious pain had affected her and she’d wanted so badly to hug him.
    “Are you forced to clean up on your own every night?” he asked.
    “Not every. The employees rotate.”
    “And then you walk to your car?”
    “Yes.”
    “Alone?”
    “Again, yes.”
    He stopped stacking chairs and pinned her with a lethal glance. “Tell me you have a weapon, at least.”
    Hello! She was no dummy. “Of course I do.” She snatched her purse from behind the bar and showed him the retractable sword she carried, preferring it over the ax. The center was oak, and with the press of a button, blades would shoot out from both sides.
    He blinked at the weapon...at her. “A dual sword?”
    “Well, zombies only die for real if you cut through their brain.” She twirled the blades, made a slashing motion, basically showing off the mad skills she’d picked up while watching TV
.
    “Zombies?” he gasped out. “You’re worried about zombies? Not rapists or murderers?”
    Duh! “The zombie apocalypse is