Rescue My Heart Read Online Free PDF Page A

slipped her chemise back
on and padded barefoot to the stove. “Hungry?” she asked, picking
up a wooden spoon to stir the concoction.
    “ Now, I am.
Starved.”
    “ Sit down.” Rory made him
a plate with chili, rice, and a little salad. She plucked a small
loaf of garlic bread out of the oven and put half next to his dish.
She spooned out some for herself and joined him at the tiny table
she used as her dining room.
    Bruce
tucked into the food with enthusiasm. Rory smiled as she watched
him eat. I like feeding him. Is that love?
Maybe.
    When he finished eating, he dressed
and kissed her. “Great meal, as always,” he said, stuffing his tie
in his jacket pocket. “I’m sorry I have to work.”
    “ Me, too. I’m going to try
to finish up some writing.”
    “ And
don’t forget those want ads.” He pointed a finger at her as he
moved through the doorway and into the hall. Rory sighed, leaning
against the doorjamb. What do I see in
Bruce? Rather than answer the question,
she put on Vivaldi’s “Four Seasons” and sat down at the computer.
Baxter curled up on his small bed at her feet. Stymied by a plot
that wouldn’t work, she gave up and ran a Google search for pug rescues,
instead. She found two in New York. Opening her cell, she
dialed.
    “ Big Apple Pug Rescue? I’d
like to volunteer.”
     
    * * * *
     
    Propped
up in bed, wearing a short nightshirt, Rory munched popcorn while
watching the movie Serendipity for the fourth time. Baxter was curled up,
snoring, with his head on her leg. Bruce
hates when I eat popcorn in bed. I’m careful. Besides, he’s not
here. A sudden pang of guilt when she
thought about him working made her pick up the phone. His cell went
straight to voicemail. Working hard, I
guess.
    Baxter shifted position, allowing her
to move her legs a bit. They had settled back together comfortably
when the buzzer sounded. Baxter jumped up, barking. Rory’s brows
knitted as she wondered who could be at the door. She slipped out
of bed and hit the intercom.
    “ It’s me. Let me
up.”
    She
buzzed Bruce in, and held the door open as he staggered up the
stairs. Working? Working at drinking, I
think. He was winded after three flights
of stairs and leaned against the wall outside her apartment while
he caught his breath. He reeked of alcohol and cheap
perfume.
    Rory fanned the air with her hand.
“Who have you been with? Some Tenth Avenue hooker?”
    “ No hooker. A
club.”
    “ I thought you were
working,” she said, taking his arm and guiding him into her place.
He followed along docilely, like a lamb being led by his
mother.
    “ Tried to work. Couldn’t.
Needed some fun. Dancing. A little booze.”
    “ Or a lot of booze. Who
was the chick?” She folded her arms across her chest after they
came inside and closed the door.
    “ Chick? What
chick?”
    “ I asked you first.” She
narrowed her eyes, looking for lipstick stains on his clothes and
found none.
    “ I don’t know. There were
lots of chicks.”
    “ Oh, I see. Lots. Must
have been a hen house.” Her tone was playful, but her heart was
hurting.
    “ Yeah. But none wanted to
play. You always want to play.” He eyed the inviting
sheets.
    “ Don’t think so. You’re in
no shape…” Before she could finish, he was on her, kissing her and
sliding her nightshirt up over her hips. Rory pulled her head back
from him and pushed away with her hands “I don’t think tonight is
the right time…”
    “ Tonight is the perfect
time. Come ‘ere, baby,” he said, closing his fingers around her
naked butt and backing toward the bed. Baxter, who had checked out
Bruce then returned to the comfort of the soft mattress, barked as
they approached.
    “ Get that stupid mutt out
of the way. I’m coming in for a landing,” he laughed.
    “ He’s not a stupid mutt.
Baxter, shh,” Rory said. The dog continued to bark. The moment the
back of Bruce’s knees came in contact with the bedframe, he folded
like an ironing board and fell