Her Secret Wish Read Online Free PDF Page A

furniture.
    Glancing at the clock, she winced. Dean would be here within forty minutes. The thought of having a man she didn’t work with in her space was very strange, but a tingle of feminine excitement ran through her. It had been months since she’d been out on a date, and she certainly hadn’t been excited before, during, or after that disaster.
    Rachel showered and cleaned up, then took the time to add just a bit of makeup to her eyes. She’d never been one to use a lot. As she looked at the bruising and small line of black stitches at her temple, she wished she’d have listened to one of her girlfriends when they’d tried to teach her. There was a bottle of foundation in the basket beneath the counter, but when she opened the lid she realized it had dried out. Grrr…
    Moving to the bedroom, she stood in front of her closet doors. If he was just bringing over some pizza or something, she didn’t need to go all out but maybe more than jeans and a T-shirt. Dragging the hangers along the rod, she debated what to wear. Her hand hovered over a nice apricot colored button down shirt, a little more feminine than what she normally wore. Mentally shrugging, she slipped it on. It would have to do.
    Running some pink gloss over her lips and scraping her hair back into a ponytail she moved back out to the living room to stare at the clock. Anxiety hit her then. Was this a date? Kind of?
    Dean arrived right on the dot of seven, knocking firmly on the door. Rachel’s heartbeat took off and she blinked at the sudden tension in her body. Deliberately taking a deep breath she moved to pull open the door.
    Dean grinned as soon as he saw her, his vivid aquamarine eyes crinkling with emotion. “Hello, Rachel.”
    “Hello, Dean.”
    Lifting his pale brows, he ran his gaze over her face. The man got brownie points for not looking at her chest. But then she kind of wished he would because his direct, drawn-out examination was making her a little uncomfortable.
    “You look amazing. I hope this didn’t stress you out too soon after the accident.”
    Rachel made a face and gave a slow shake of her head. “No, I’m fine. Believe me, I’ve dealt with more stress than this. Come on in.”
    She stepped back to let him cross the doorjamb and into the room. There was a brown paper take-out bag in his huge right hand. “I hope you like Mexican. I’ve got this great place down the block from my apartment that I go to way too often.”
    Rachel was surprised. “No, Mexican sounds delicious, actually. Not what I expected.”
    He shrugged his broad shoulders. “I didn’t want to take the easy route, you know, like a pizza.”
    Grinning, he crossed to her dining room table and started unpacking Styrofoam containers. He set a second brown paper bag aside then set a foam clamshell at one place setting, and a second at the other.
    Rachel watched the heavy muscles of his shoulders flex and extend as he unpacked the food. She was around men every day, had been her entire life. She had always been a better guy friend than girl friend because she didn’t get into all the girl stuff. If asked whether she’d like to shoot or shop, shooting would get her vote, hands down, every time.
    But as she looked at the way Dean moved, lean back elongating as he reached across the table, she decided she didn’t want to be his buddy. At least, not just his buddy. God, he had a great ass. She jerked her attention back to what he was doing, barely escaping notice as he turned to her.
    “What can I get you to drink? Beer, pop, water?” she asked, hoping it covered the blush on her face.
    “I’ll take a water, please.”
    Rachel drew two tall glasses of ice water from the filtered jug she kept in the fridge and walked them to the table. Dean looked up at her as she entered the room and she almost stumbled. The look in his eyes… it took true strength of will to set the glasses down without spilling the water.
    He actually moved to hold the chair for her.