Holly Lane Read Online Free PDF Page B

take. It was strappy, pale pink—paler than her nipples, he could attest, since the darker shade shone through—and ridiculously thin. Did the woman not know it was winter, for God’s sake?
    He’d always been kind of a boob man, and maybe somewhere in the back of his mind he’d always been vaguely aware that Sue Ann’s were probably nice, but now he knew for sure and the knowledge had his groin tightening again. Maybe more than tightening. Aw, hell. He wished he’d already grabbed his duffel bag from the truck on his way back in—so he could hold it in front of him in case his jeans were getting snugger there. Damn it. This was not what he needed. And the sad truth of it was, at this moment, he felt almost physically incapable of pulling his eyes away from her chest.
    So he felt he had as little choice in what he said next as in where he was sleeping tonight. “Um, do you have anything you can put on?”
    “Huh?” she asked, oblivious.
    But then he dropped his gaze pointedly back from her face to her breasts, so she finally looked down, too—then let out a horrified gasp.
    “I just thought maybe those pants might come with, like, a big matching flannel top or something,” he offered, squinting uncertainly. God, this was awkward. And since he had known Sue Ann for so long, it probably shouldn’t be, but it was and that somehow made it worse.
    She crossed her arms over herself as a bright blush blossomed on her cheeks. “Um, no—no matching flannel top, and I, um, don’t really have anything since I thought I’d be alone here, but . . . ”
    Her gaze darted frantically around until she finally grabbed up an afghan from the back of the other easy chair and wrapped it around her like a cape. Crocheted in warm, woodsy shades of green, it covered her up well, which should have made it better for him—only . . . hell, somehow it wasn’t helping. Seemed the damage was done; he was seeing her breasts in his mind now anyway.
    “Better?” she asked.
    “Yes,” he lied. Then repeated it—“Yes”—as if that might magically make it more true.
    Peering toward the window now, Sue Ann walked over to it in her afghan to stare out at the snow, looking completely distressed.
    And he almost felt bad for barging in on her—but mostly, he just continued being angry about the whole situation. “Look, it’s not my fault,” he said. “I mean, what’s the big problem? With any luck I’ll be out of your hair in the morning.”
    “The big problem is—” She stopped, sighed, still peering forlornly out the dark pane “—that I just really needed some time alone. To help me face the holidays—and some other stuff, too, it turns out. And maybe it wouldn’t have helped anyway, but I’m still just . . . ” She shook her head, appearing tired. “I’m just exhausted and humiliated by it all. And the truth is—between dealing with the holidays, trying to keep Sophie happy and acceptant of all this, and just trying to build a new life for myself, some days I feel like I’m barely holding it all together.”
    She pursed her lips then, looking more vulnerable than he’d known Sue Ann could, and despite himself, he felt the weight of her troubles in his chest and sort of wished he could give her a hug.
    “You probably don’t get that, though,” she went on, almost sounding resentful. “Guys are so sturdy. You went through your divorce so easy.”
    The words forced him to expel a heavy breath that echoed through his lungs. Adam didn’t talk about his divorce three years ago to anyone, ever. But right now, he was going to make one very small, quick exception. “It, uh, might not have been as easy as I made it seem,” he told her quietly. “And . . . I really am sorry you’re going through this.”
    Finally, she shifted her gaze from the window to him, and the sadness in her warm eyes brought him down even further. “Thanks,” she said softly. “And I’m sorry I just dumped all that on you. It’s