A Promise to Cherish Read Online Free PDF Page B

salad.”
    “Would you like something in place of the potato?”
    “Would I ever, but I’m being firm with myself tonight.” There followed a false laugh that Lee hardly recognized as her own while Brown’s eyes probed once again. She suddenly felt as if she’d told him something personal that he had no right to know and damned herself for making the innocent comment.
    He ordered prime rib, medium rare, baked potato with both butter and sour cream, the house dressing—without being told what it was, which for some reason irritated Lee, who ate in restaurants seldom enough not to be adventurous—and a cup of coffee.
    This time when the waitress moved away, the eyes of the two diners met and hesitated on each other for a longer moment. Sam Brown now leaned back in his chair with lazy nonchalance, one shoulder angling lower than the other as he rested a negligent elbow on the table and touched the rim of his glass with five fingertips.
    Lee sipped her drink and looked pointedly away, but the distracting memory of his magazine pictures came niggling again. She felt his eyes on her and for a moment had the disquieting impression he was stacking her up against his naked tootsies, wondering how she’d compare. To Lee’s dismay, the memory of her stretch marks emblazoned itself across her mind.
    “Did you get your bath?”
    At the sound of his lazy question her eyes flew up, and she colored as if he’d just spoken an obscenity, then glanced quickly at the old couple in the corner. They were sipping silently, paying no attention whatsoever.
    “Yes. Did you have your run?”
    He smiled crookedly. “I tried, but the damn air in this city is so thin I felt like I was having a heart attack.”
    “A pity you didn’t.” She quirked one eyebrow and made the ice cubes bob with a poke of her finger.
    “Still don’t believe me, huh?”
    She lifted her glass, eyed him over its rim, took a long, sweet sip, then slowly shook her head from side to side. “Uh-uh.”
    He shrugged indifferently, took a pull on his cocktail, and studied the view outside the window. The way he had one shoulder back farther than the other made the yellow knit shirt hug his chest like a wet buckskin. The front zipper was lowered several inches and the silver cross winked at Lee while she tried to pretend he wasn’t there. But it was impossible when, a moment later, the old couple arose, paid their bill, and went away, leaving Lee and Sam the only two in the room.
    The waitress returned, deposited their first courses, and disappeared again.
    Lee dove into her salad like a sinner into a confessional. But every clink of fork upon bowl seemed amplified and disturbing. The sound of her own chewing seemed explosive in the room. She scarcely kept from wriggling in her chair while feeling Sam Brown’s steady gaze resting on her in an increasingly distracting manner.
    His voice split the quiet again. “You know this is ridiculous, don’t you?”
    She looked up to find him with hands resting idly next to his salad bowl.
    “What is?” she managed.
    “Sitting here like a couple of little kids who just had a fight over who broke the mud pie.”
    She couldn’t think of a single sane reply. With an engaging grin he went on. “So, you’re gonna stay in your yard and I’m gonna stay in mine, and we’re going to glare at each other over the fence and be lonely and miserable while neither of us will make the first move.”
    She stared at him, gulped down what felt like an entire, unbroken head of lettuce, and said not a word.
    “Can I bring my salad over there?” he asked finally, then added charmingly, “If I promise not to break your mud pie?”
    The wisp of a smile threatened her lips and before she could control it she had chuckled, the sound bringing a wash of relief. “Yes, come ahead. It’s awful sitting here trying not to look at you.”
    He and his salad and his pickled mushrooms were up and across the floor in three seconds. He settled himself