What If (Willowbrook Book 2) by Ashlyn Mathews Read Free Book Online

he turned into her touch.
    Wanting to do more than touch his face, she let her hand fall to her side. Though she didn’t feel sorry for him for the fallout of his partying and run-in with the paparazzi, she was proud of him for taking Jones’ advice.
    Drew tended to do the opposite of what he’d been told. When she’d asked him about the craziness of his thinking, he’d rationalized it to her by saying: “If I did everything I’d been told to do, I’d never make mistakes and get the chance to do things right the next time around.” She’d cried bullshit and he’d laughed hard at her teasing before he picked her up, swung her in his arms, then kissed her so deeply her body tingled from head to toe.
    Ah, the good old days. Now, she didn’t know what they’d had back when. Not with the doubt in her mind as to whether his heart had ever been truly in their relationship.
    “Tell me about this favor of yours,” he said.
    A favor, the reason she’d offered to help Eve and Asa. Emma’s job was to prepare people for disasters, to help them be safe. Drew was in Willowbrook to lay low from the media.
    Get him into the gala, and news of his generosity would spread, drawing the paparazzi’s attention to their small town. No one’s personal business, including Emma’s secret, would be safe. Safe . She was starting to get really tired of that word.
    “Do you remember Sandy’s boy, Chance?”
    He nodded. “Yeah, a kid this tall,” he motioned with his casted hand, “with curly hair and big, bright eyes, right?”
    She smiled. “Yep, that’s him.” Her smile faltered. “He’s got leukemia. Eve’s throwing a big party for him to raise money. There’s an auction, win a date night with a hunk.” She flushed as his eyes strayed to her lips and stayed rooted there. “We want you in the auction,” she stammered.
    God why did her body feel as though it was on fire? It couldn’t be because Drew was looking at her with that I-want-to-do-you-against-the-wall stare of his, was it? She wanted to fan her face. It must be the pregnancy hormones because right now she also wanted to cry.
    “Sweetheart—”
    She shook her head and started to get off the bed. Though his wrists and part of his hands were casted, he somehow grabbed hold of her and set her on his lap.
    He chucked her under the chin. “Spill the beans, love.” His gaze lingered on her lips. She swallowed down the urge to press her mouth to his. Tess.
    “You shouldn’t call me that. We’ve broken up.” She tried to scramble off his lap.
    He held her tight.
    “Tell me what’s wrong,” he said next to her ear, “and I’ll try to make it right.”
    Why did he say such tender words to her, words that broke her heart? And how could she explain her reasons for keeping his public life out of their private piece of heaven without coming off as downright selfish and scared?
    Squaring her shoulders, she inched back so she could see his face. She would start with the truth, all of it. If she’d done that over the years rather than giving him excuses, they might still be together. Maybe she would’ve learned to live and be happy in both their worlds.
    “I want you in the gala. It’ll help Chance. With the publicity and all . . .” She shrugged. “But I’m scared of the attention too.”
    At the word scared, Drew tightened his hold on her. She held still, liking the feel of his strong arms around her too much to move. Yet . . .
    “Drew, you have a girlfriend.”
    One question at a time .
    “Which girlfriend are you talking about?” he said with a serious expression on his face.
    She gripped the front of his shirt. “How many girlfriends are there?”
    Taking her by surprise, he leaned in and nipped her bottom lip. “There’s always been one, Miss Lombardi.” His words whispered across her lips, like a light breeze over still waters, the tenderness in them breaking her heart.
    Wary, she let go of his shirt and scooted off his lap to sit in front of