Dinner at Eight-epub Read Online Free PDF Page A

the tea, Ava fetched a blanket from the cupboard.
    He lay on the couch, his head resting on one end, his feet hanging over the other. His eyes were closed and his chest rose and fell in the soft, rhythmic beat of sleep.
     
     
    Jared stretched, rolled over and slowly opened his eyes. His back ached, his knees creaked and his muscles complained about spending a second night sleeping on something that obviously wasn’t a bed. The room was dark and foreign. Confused, he blinked a few times.
    Sydney.
    He was home.
    No, he wasn’t. He didn’t have a home. The last one had been a cramped cottage at the refuge, but he’d given it up a couple of weeks back.
    So, Greg’s place then.
    Nope. He couldn’t see much, but the shapes around him and the size of the room told him he wasn’t at his brother’s.
    He pushed off a blanket he didn’t remember wrapping himself in and sat up with a yawn, and just like that he knew where he was.
    He must have passed out. He remembered lying on the couch, listening to Ava’s melodic voice drifting from the kitchen. He’d considered his answer, told himself what to say…and that was the last thing he remembered.
    Damn jetlag.
    His watch told him it was just after three a.m. His mouth told him he needed a large drink of water and his bladder told him just the opposite.
    The door to one of the two bedrooms was half closed and the lights were off. Liv’s room was also dark, but her door was wide open. A quick glance told Jared it was empty. He used her bathroom, helped himself to some water in the kitchen and then walked over to Ava’s room.
    She was probably asleep, but he’d check, just in case.
    He eased the door open.
    Silence greeted him.
    Light from the kitchen spilled across her doorway, and Jared made out her shape beneath the doona. She lay on her side, an arm flung out before her, her hair fanning over the pillow.
    Ava had a lot of hair. Sleek, sexy hair, which tumbled down her back in thick, black waves and glistened in the sunlight, as though weaved with strands of crystal.
    He brushed his hand through his own hair, the short ends prickling his fingers.
    Christ. Over eighteen months he’d spent away from her, yet still he ached to run his hands through her hair, tug on the ends and tilt her head back so her lips faced upward…
    Jared’s chest squeezed, making breathing difficult. That old proverb about time and healing was complete bullshit. His heart was still torn wide open, still bleeding…for her. Staying away hadn’t weakened his feelings at all.
    It was a miracle he’d managed to stay in America after he’d discovered her marriage was over. His first instinct had been to get on a plane and come home—to Ava.
    But he’d stopped himself. She’d needed time to get over Anthony. There was no way she would have fallen into Jared’s arms mere days after leaving her husband—no matter how much Jared might have wanted her to.
    Hell, there was no guarantee she’d fall into his arms now. He might be back for her, but Ava had no idea how he felt. She didn’t know he’d left Sydney because watching her marry another man had almost killed him.
    Yeah, he was Ava’s best friend, but that didn’t mean she’d ever return his love. All he could do was hope. And do the damn best he could to win her heart.
    The question was: Would he succeed?
    He knew he should leave the flat. Turn around and walk out of the room. Hell, he should get his ass over to Greg’s place. His brother was probably wondering where the hell he was. But deep as he searched, Jared could not find the strength to go. Instead, he rested his shoulder against the doorjamb, content to watch her sleep.
    Wishing he could lie beside her. Hold her.
    Make love to her.
    His eyes slowly adjusted to the dimness and his ears to the quiet. Ava’s soft, even breathing echoed through the room. Her body was relaxed in sleep. The tension that held her shoulders stiff in the car was gone.
    There she was, sleek and stunning.