Separation Anxiety Read Online Free PDF

innuendo, and he grinned.
    “I only work on this stuff when I have spare time, which, as you know, isn’t much,” he said.
    “All the girls you’re entertaining?” I teased.
    The sweet pink in his cheeks deepened just a touch, and I saw him run his hand through his hair. I wondered how many times a day he did that, because I noticed him doing it a lot. It was a sexy little habit. “I just meant because of my job that keeps me busy, but I suppose my reputation precedes me.”
    “Oh,” I said, feeling stupid for blurting that out and knowing I’d have censored myself a little better if I hadn’t had all that vodka. Fucking vodka.
    I took a closer look at the piece of wood on the workbench. It had some intricate carving in what would become the top of the table once he put it together. I ran my fingertips across it, impressed with his woodworking abilities that I had known nothing about. I enjoyed peeling back a layer to the mystery that was Jesse Drake. “This is gorgeous,” I breathed.
    He ignored my compliment. “Let’s head in,” he said, guiding me with his hand on the small of my back. It was another intimate exchange between us that was easily played off by friendship, but it didn’t stop me from wanting something more to happen. We entered through a mudroom that was neat and tidy and into a hallway that led to the kitchen.
    My breath left me in a whoosh as I took in his perfect kitchen. It looked like one of those kitchens you saw in a magazine or on the Food Network.
    I loved to cook. I loved to experiment and play with food or try new recipes, but the kitchen I shared with Richard didn’t have much room for experimentation.
    This kitchen, however, was a dream.
    He had black marble countertops and white cabinets. A huge, oversized island graced the center of the room with a porcelain sink sunken into the counter. The kitchen opened to a great room, and the dark gray sectional couch pointed at a huge flat screen television was the perfect complement to the black and white kitchen. The entire room was filled with a neutral travertine tile.
    He had one of those double sub zero refrigerators built right into the wall, the outside of the fridge matching the cabinets. The gas range was also oversized and a stainless steel hood hovered above it. All of the appliances in his kitchen matched the hood.
    I imagined the listing for the house when he bought it, and I was certain that it said, “A chef’s dream.”
    “Like it?” he grinned.
    “Huh?”
    “You just moaned and closed your eyes when you looked at my kitchen,” he said, and I swore I saw him discreetly adjust himself.
    “It’s amazing, Jesse,” I smiled. “I moaned? I just love to cook and I’ve never seen a kitchen quite like this one.”
    “I also love to cook,” he said. Yet another layer peeled away. So not only was he gorgeous, but he worked with kids, he was good with wood, and he liked to cook. Why was this man still single? “That’s why I designed the kitchen this way.”
    “You designed this?” I asked, surprised.
    He nodded. “I saw something like it in a magazine once. Ready for the tour?” he asked, and I nodded. The kitchen that opened into the family room was not his home’s only extravagance. He had an office that was filled with memorabilia, two guest bedrooms, each with their own full bathroom, a dining room, a living room up at the front of his house with what looked like a pretty kickass pool table, and the master suite.
    When he led me into his bedroom, I couldn’t tear my eyes from his bed. Even the plush carpet that my shoes literally sank into didn’t distract my attention from that bed. It was unlike anything I had ever seen.
    The bed frame was all gorgeous intricately carved wood, and I knew immediately that he had built it without him even having to tell me. The bed looked larger than a king, and it was covered in a gray comforter that looked soft and inviting. The pillows stacked by the headboard looked