Divine Solace: 8 Read Online Free PDF Page A

bright light touch him, or give
him food after midnight.”
    That bright interjection came from Chloe, of course. The
other member of the Tea Leaves staff delivered the comment while hanging up her
purse on the coat rack. Chloe was barely five feet tall, with sharp blue eyes
and a lovely cap of brown hair currently dyed with a blue streak. She also had
a figure like a pocket Venus. She gave Gen her usual morning hug and Marguerite
a smile that could compete with the sun. “Oh my God, Gen, you get Noah for a
few days. I’m so jealous. I saw Lyda at the end of the street and she said she
was loaning him to you.”
    Chloe turned her attention to the male in question. Bounding
across the room, she plopped herself in his lap and hugged him. As he
disappeared behind the clasp of her lush body, his arms circled her. Obviously,
Noah knew Chloe well.
    “Better?” Marguerite asked Gen.
    Gen gave her a rueful look, but she couldn’t help but smile.
All the worries she could harbor about such an unexpected turn of events
couldn’t hold against Chloe’s infusion of normalcy into a far-from-normal
situation.
    “Will Lyda be coming by to see him? Or coming to pick him
up?” And why did the thought fluster her so?
    Marguerite’s attention sharpened on her. Her boss missed
very little. “I expect she’s already worked that out with Noah. He doesn’t have
a car, but he knows how to get where he needs to be. Disappointed?”
    “No.” Yes. “I mean, it doesn’t matter. Whatever’s
easiest. I can drop him off at her place. Maybe get some plants for the yard.”
    Though Gen turned away as more customers arrived, she felt
Marguerite’s attention. She could handle that, at least better than the
lingering feel of Lyda’s hand on her scalp. As if that wasn’t distracting
enough, Lyda’s lithe body, the way denim creased with the movement of her ass
as she walked away, stayed with Gen throughout most of the day as well, mixing
with the memory of Noah’s eyes and lips, the touch of his hands. What had she
gotten herself into?
    * * * * *
    As Marguerite had indicated, Noah returned at closing time.
He came from his sailing class with damp hair and the smell of sea water. He’d
also changed from his earlier clothes into a dark ribbed tank and worn blue
jeans.
    When he volunteered to do whatever they needed, closing
became a half-the-time affair. Marguerite had shocked her by allowing Noah to
do the hand washing of the cups, something she was so particular about that Gen
and Chloe considered it a sacred act.
    While cleaning the brewing equipment, Gen was dangerously
entranced, watching his long fingers swish the disposable cloth into each cup,
the way he placed the delicate porcelain in the dish drainer, his attention
never leaving his task. Except once.
    He stopped, his fingers tented on a cup, eyes swiveling back
to meet hers. He held her gaze, acknowledging he knew she was watching him,
then he returned to the task, not another word spoken. A tremor went through
her fingers.
    The closer they came to going home together, just the two of
them, the more his slightest gesture sent sexual signals to her. That was
wrong. He was Lyda’s. But it was too late to back out. Or was she just
unwilling to do so?
    He offered to drive her car on the way home, giving her a
break from Tampa traffic. She was agreeable to that. As they maneuvered out of
the older downtown area of Tampa and headed for the suburbs, they morphed from
a relaxed chat about their respective workdays into Gen looking for more
information about him. Yes, she trusted Marguerite, but she took care of herself.
She wanted some more info about the person who was going to be spending time in
her home.
    “So why don’t you have a car?” she asked.
    “I don’t have a driver’s license.”
    She blinked. “Guess I should have asked you that before you
took the wheel. But you obviously know how to drive.” He negotiated the Tampa
rush-hour traffic far more capably than she ever