The Trouble with Andrew by Heather Graham Read Free Book Online Page A

“It’s hardly my fault my house went down.”
    â€œI’m not snapping!” he said.
    But he was. Definitely snapping. And she should have been angry in return—she was angry. But she was also alarmed, and worried about herself. Despite his anger, she found herself still fascinated by the heat of his proximity, by the feel of his thigh hard against her own. She could almost imagine that his jeans and the terry robe were both gone, that she could feel his flesh…
    She jumped up, her cheeks burning, her heart pounding, shocked at her suddenly active hormones. He was an attractive man, she had long ago admitted that. All right, so her life hadn’t included many attractive men, or perhaps it had, at times, but none of them had ever made her feel this way, and perhaps she hadn’t wanted to feel this way. She’d been busy. Raising Jordan, making a living. And really, the only time she ever thought about having a man in her life was when her father was around to torture her, with the eternal “you’re still young, Katie” comments, the “I have a friend I want you to meet at dinner.” Ron Wheeler was also fond of reminding her that she wasn’t dead and that she didn’t have any right to act as if she was, which wounded her, because she considered herself very busy. Jordan was into everything. He loved baseball, soccer, football and video games. He had school projects and homework. And she had her own work, which she loved. Long ago, Terry had encouraged her, and she had learned that she loved photography so much because she really had a good eye and could capture bits and pieces of life on film. For a long time, it had seemed that Jordan and photography were all that she really had to hang on to.
    And so she had hung on to them. Which had been easy. Because nothing had tempted her to stray from the course. But now…
    She was tempted.
    Her father, she was certain, would dance in the streets.
    Yet she wondered how she could be feeling such things, thinking such things, when her world had just been blown to bits. There was devastation out there, she reminded herself.
    This man could even be married!
    Old argument, a voice inside her said, then demanded, if so, where is his wife?
    Out of town?
    Smart people, she was suddenly certain, were out of town. And if he had a wife, she was probably smart.
    No, nothing had indicated that he might have a wife.
    Standing, she stared at his left hand—not that that would be any guarantee. But he wasn’t wearing a wedding ring.
    And he was staring at her as if she had lost her senses.
    â€œWhat is the matter with you?” he asked her.
    â€œNothing. You were snapping.”
    He threw up his hands. “Well, if I was snapping, I’m sorry, but you shouldn’t worry—I don’t bite. You’re not in danger.”
    Katie wasn’t so sure. But she was standing in his grand living room, in his robe, with Midge’s shoes clutched to her chest as if she was about to take flight. Jordan remained on his sofa, sleeping as if he hadn’t a care in the world.
    â€œYou can put those shoes down, you know,” Drew advised her.
    She dropped the shoes, then realized she had dumped them all over his floor. It had been an immaculate floor, she was certain.
    Until she and Jordan had dripped all over it, of course.
    â€œSorry,” she murmured, shaking her head. “I need to put these somewhere out of the way. For the time. I mean, of course, we really can’t stay here—”
    He leaned closer to where she knelt to retrieve the shoes. “Mrs. Wells, there aren’t that many choices. You’ve heard the news. The shelters were over-crowded last night. And if all these reports are half true, tens of thousands of people are homeless. You have to stay somewhere.”
    â€œJordan and I don’t want to impose—”
    â€œIt’s no imposition!” he roared,