Love Letters, Inc. Read Online Free PDF Page B

ever seen.
    He sat on the sofa, barely resisting the urge to sprawl across it and close his eyes. He'd been up since five. If he didn't stay upright, he'd nod off for sure. He leaned forward, rested his elbows on his knees, and pressed his fingers against his closed eyes.
    "You okay?" Rosie asked, walking into the room.
    "A little tired but fine." Tonight must be special, he thought wryly. She was wearing yellow and lime green socks. Striped. Real howlers. He suppressed a smile and watched her settle into the recliner and tuck her feet, atrocious socks and all, under her.
    "Coffee?" he asked, nodding at the tray in front of him.
    "I forgot." She started to unwind from the chair.
    "Stay where you are. I'll get it." He poured for them both, then crossed the short distance separating them and gave her a steaming cup. Their fingers touched, and his gaze shifted to her face. When their eyes met, the air in his lungs heated uncomfortably. She looked away first.
    "Thanks," she said, pulling the coffee back from his hand and immediately raising the cup to her mouth. She didn't look at him again until he'd returned to the sofa.
    "Want to talk about Gardenia now?" she asked.
    He nodded and, ignoring his own coffee, leaned back to look at her, hands clasped behind his neck, legs stretched out in front of him. He could look at this lady for hours. Right now Gardenia was the last thing on his mind, but he'd put off the subject of the letters long enough.
    He'd avoided it during dinner, deflecting the conversation from the merits of the Irish wolfhound to Rosie's opinion of Kent's eat-on-the-run diet, and how it was destroying his body. They'd talked about Rosie's mother. Quite a woman, by Rosie's account. After Rosie's father's death, she'd worked night and day to convert an old, rundown hotel into one of the best in Seattle. Rosie was obviously proud of what she'd done, although there were hints of a pretty lonely Rosie as a kid. He'd like to know more about that, but for now Gardenia was up. He cursed silently and rubbed his jaw.
    Once they settled the Gardenia thing, he probably would never see this woman again. And something in him didn't want that to happen.
    His gut clenched, and he dropped his head. He'd have to ask her out. Hell, even the idea of dating wearied him, the doing of it would put him under. Women. Dating. They took time, and he just plain didn't have any right now. He stifled a yawn.
    "So, now that you've thought about it, what do you think? Do you agree with my plan, or not?" She sipped her coffee and stared at him over the rim of the cup.
    "I might. If I had any idea what it was."
    She looked confused, and two fine vertical lines met in her forehead. "But I told you all about it yesterday."
    "I was distracted—" he looked in the general direction of her feet "—by your socks." He slumped deeper into the sofa.
    She stuck out a foot and rotated it as if to study her bilious green and yellow footwear. "Can't see why. Look pretty ordinary to me."
    Kent eyed her from under heavy eyelids. "Rosie, there's nothing ordinary about you." God, he was sleepy.
    She pulled her foot back. "The letters, Kent. Let's talk about the letters."
    He nodded. "Right. So tell me this good idea of yours."
    "What I think we should do is..."
    * * *
    Kent woke up to sunlight doing laser surgery on his irises. He shaded his eyes against the glare coming at him from the living room window, pulled himself to a sitting position, and looked around stupidly. He was on Rosie's couch. He rubbed his eyes, then fingercombed his hair.
    Smooth, Summerton, real smooth.
    A glance at his watch told him it was after seven. He should have been at Beachline an hour ago. The smell of coffee and frying bacon lured his nose—followed closely by the rest of him—to the kitchen while he tucked his shirt back into his pants.
    Rosie was at the stove, pulling something from the oven with hands engulfed in a pair of the biggest oven mitts he'd ever seen. Out came plump