Thrown By Love by Pamela Aares Read Free Book Online

glanced at the photo she held. “That’s the Donovan family reunion. My dad insists on hosting one every summer. I miss most of them now, but if the schedule allows, I try to make it.”
He hoped she wouldn’t pick up the next photo, but of course she did. He shouldn’t have put that one out. It was a fuzzy shot of him at ten, standing with a bat in a cornfield.
“You got started at the game early, I see.” There was no derision in her voice.
“Most guys do. But I don’t hit any better now than I did then.” It was his pitching that landed him in the major leagues; hitting was a skill he struggled to master. It hadn’t happened yet.
“Sure it’s not Photoshopped for PR? ‘All-American Boy in a Cornfield’?”
He liked her playful tone. “Afraid it’s real. That field is where I learned to pitch. My dad should have a medal for the hours he spent chasing wild balls.” He scooped steaming rice and curry onto their plates.
She replaced the photo, turning it just so. She ran her fingers along the shelf and pulled out a book.
“ Gravitational Physics and the Powers of the Universe —not a breezy read.” She looked over at him, still smiling. He suddenly felt weak, as if he had no bones. Except for one. He shifted, hoping his hard-on didn’t show. Hell, he felt like a thirteen-year-old with his first crush.
     

     
Chloe put the book back in its place on the shelf. What a puzzle he was, a combination of heartland charm and physical prowess and yet curious too, with the brain to go with it. But it wasn’t his brain that was making her pulse jump.
“Your food’s getting cold,” he said, handing her a plate as she sat on the couch in front of the window. She was hungry and dug into the curry and rice. The hospital food earlier in the week hadn’t appealed, and she’d been dying for something with flavor.
After several delicious forkfuls, she looked up. Scotty was watching her.
“Anyone ever tell you that you eat like a Midwesterner?” he said as a grin curved along his lips. “Too many women in this town act like they’re afraid of food.”
“Might be my best quality,” she said between bites.
“I doubt that.”
She lowered her fork. She heard the invitation in his voice. If she made any move to open that door, she knew he’d be right there. But if she walked through it, she’d surely pay later.
She pushed what was left of her rice aside and laid her fork on the plate. It was a lovely dish, hand-painted and ringed with color, a strange plate for a man to own. There were so many strange things about him, odd pairings she wouldn’t imagine the universe would conjure and put side by side.
When she looked up, he was still watching her with an expression she’d seen only in movies or her dreams. It nailed her.
Paying later suddenly didn’t seem so very important.
She slid closer to him on the couch, watched the look in his eyes shift, saw the ripple of his throat as he swallowed. She lifted her hand to his face. She hadn’t known she needed to touch him, feel his skin, register the heat and life in him, but as her fingers traced along his jaw, she recognized the need. No thoughts distracted her as she touched her lips to his. He slid his arms around her, and the worries that had kept her on edge for so many days and nights dissolved in the power of his kiss.
Just when she was sure she couldn’t, wouldn’t, stop with just kissing, her phone rang with the insistent tone she’d assigned to her father.
Hands on his shoulders, she pressed away from Scotty. “I have to take this.” Her heart pounded hard and her hand shook as she rummaged in her purse.
When she heard the nurse’s voice, her stomach did a dive to her knees. She didn’t have to hear the words to understand the message. All she knew was that she’d be breaking every traffic law to get to her dad’s apartment. As she dropped her phone into her purse and felt around for her keys, she tried to control her face, her voice and her hands.