Right Moves Read Online Free PDF Page B

the summer when we’re all sick of the heat. You know, the usual.”
    I swallowed down a hard lump of emotion. The “usual” for Jack Reed was something I’d longed for since I was seven years old. I didn’t begrudge him his wonderful family life. But I certainly envied it.
    “Hey,” he said as I remained silent. His fingers skimmed my bare shoulder as his head dipped to mine and he asked in a low voice, “Did I say something wrong?”
    “No,” I was quick to assure him. “Oh God, no. Of course not.” I had to blink back the threat of tears, though. “No, it’s not you. It’s just… That’s very touching. About you and your parents. What does your mother do?” I found myself asking, though my stomach twisted in knots.
    Jack let out a mocking groan that was playful. “Oh she obsesses over my dad working too much and me playing football, because she was always afraid I’d get hurt. Or wondering when I’m going to meet the right woman and bring her to Sunday dinner.”
    “So basically she’s nuts about you and your dad.” A lump of emotion swelled in my throat and I fought to dislodge it, to swallow it down.
    Jack said, “She was a stay-at-mom when I was growing up. When we moved to Scottsdale, she became extremely active in the community. I have immense respect for her. The woman is a gift to volunteerism and charitable organizations, and she’s always been a solid presence in my life.”
    I tore my gaze from his and stared out at the city in which I’d been born. The solid presence in my life had been a nanny who’d passed away five years ago. I’d adored her, but I’d never been able to love her, despite how wonderful and maternal she’d been. My emotional deficiencies were not a result of anything she’d done or not done. I’d simply not been able to transfer any sort of feeling to her, aside from gratitude that she’d taken such great care of me. That doom-and-gloom fear had started with her. Every time she was a minute late in picking me up because of a traffic jam or a flat tire, I’d panicked. And believed the worse—that she’d abandoned me like my mother had.
    I could have easily lost myself to melancholy at this point, but as Jack’s fingers brushed along my nape, beneath my loosely pinned hair, I knew I wanted to move on from my despair. Literally as much as figuratively.
    Before he could inquire about my family, I said, “I like your house, Jack. And your hospitality.”
    He gazed down at me, a sparkle in his eyes. “And my ulterior motives?”
    “I haven’t discovered any yet.”
    “I didn’t want to share you with everyone downstairs. I realize that means I should have invited you out on a proper date, just the two of us. But I didn’t know I was going to feel quite this way.”
    My breath hitched. “What way?”
    His fingers swept slowly down my spine, making me shiver. “The second you walked through the door, all I could think was, ‘I hope she never wants to leave’.”
    I stared at him, wondering if I’d heard him right. Wondering if the one greatest fear I’d always had could be quelled with those simple words. He didn’t want me to leave.
    Despite my best effort to hold it at bay, a tear welled in my eye and crested the rim, sliding slowly down my flushed cheek. “That’s about the nicest thing anyone’s ever said to me,” I told him. Then I shook my head and amended, “That is the nicest thing anyone’s ever said to me.” More accurately, it was the most significant thing anyone had ever said to me.
    But Jack had no idea of my internal strife. He asked, “Then why am I making you cry?”
    “You’re not,” I said with a half laugh. I swiped at the fat drop on my jaw. “I’m not crying. I’m just…overly emotional. Don’t mind me.”
    He stared quizzically at me, his concern apparent, though he didn’t pry. His fingers continued to caress my back with a featherlight touch that made my skin tingle and my stomach flutter. I gripped the railing