Unsuitable by Doreen Owens Malek Read Free Book Online Page B

stopped when he saw her reaction and she looked away.
    “I’ll go see him,” Jason said and brushed past her, leaving Carrie tongue tied and staring at a calendar on the wall. This was going to be one fascinating evening.
    When Jason returned he was carrying a large terry robe, which he handed to Carrie. “You’d better change into this,” he said. “I don’t want you to catch cold.”
    Carrie stood with it in her hands, looking at him.
    “It’s all right. I have another one,” he said gently, pushing her in the direction of the bathroom. “We’ll put your wet things in the dryer. I’m afraid slickers aren’t much good in weather like this; in a driving rain you still get soaked.”
    Carrie did as he’d instructed, shutting the bathroom door behind her and leaning against it. She held the robe to her face and inhaled his scent, closing her eyes. After a few self-indulgent moments she took off her clothes and donned it, snuggling into the terry softness and rolling up the sleeves, which cascaded over her wrists. She folded her skirt and blouse, put her underwear on the bottom and picked up the pile. She padded barefoot down the hall and handed the neatly arranged garments to Jason, who was tucking in a dry shirt.
    “Here you are,” she said, trying not to consider the picture she made in the oversized robe.
    Jason grinned at her. “You look like Shirley Temple in Little Miss Marker ,” he said, accepting her clothes.
    “I feel like a mermaid,” she replied.
    “These seem like they would fit a Barbie doll,” Jason teased, hefting the lightweight burden.
    Carrie smiled. She was used to such remarks. “My brother always called me ‘Thimblena,’ because my wardrobe would fit in a thimble.”
    Jason disappeared into the adjacent laundry closet and she heard the hum of machinery.
    “They’ll be ready soon,” he said, returning. “It doesn’t take long. Do you want a hair dryer?”
    Carrie’s hand flew to her disarranged shoulder length bob. “Oh dear, do I look like I need one?”
    His eyes moved from her head to her feet, then up again to lock with hers. “No, you look fine. It’s just that you’re always so perfect, it’s odd to see you... a little messed up, that’s all.”
    Is that how he saw her? Carrie wondered—as a prim guardian of proprieties who would become hysterical if her bun became unpinned? I’m not like that, she wanted to cry. Just give me a chance and I’ll show you I’m not like that.
    “Did I say something to upset you?” Jason asked suddenly, his head tilting to one side.
    “No, no, I’m just feeling...hungry,” she said, seizing upon the one explanation for her behavior that she knew he could accept.
    “Right, what’s wrong with me?” Jason replied, pulling open the refrigerator door and taking out a platter covered with aluminum foil. “You must be starving. Rose left this for us to make sandwiches. Just let me put something together for John and we’ll eat, okay?”
    He always thought of his son first. Carrie watched as he took bread from the keeper and made the boy a sandwich. He put it on a tray with a glass of milk and a slice of cake. He even added a carefully folded napkin and a handful of wrapped candies from a jar. Carrie looked away, her eyes filling. Everything he did brought her to the verge of tears.
    While he was in his son’s room she got her things from the dryer and dressed again, feeling clammy and uncomfortable in the damp clothes.
    “The card shark is in there whetting his knives for the kill,” Jason announced as he returned. “He bolted his meal in thirty seconds and is now practicing shuffling and dealing. He told me you promised him a game. Is that the truth, or a wishful interpretation of some careless remark you made?”
    “A little of both,” Carrie replied, laughing. “He says you always let him win.”
    “That’s because he persecutes me when he loses,” Jason said, reaching for plates to set the table. “He had me in