Stef Ann Holm Read Online Free PDF Page A

breakfast real quick, then take a spin over to her house for a ride on her bed.

    “Next Wednesday.”

    “That’s my birthday.” She blurted out the reminder, then bit her tongue. Dammit, she wasn’t going to mention it. A lady never dangled something like that in front of her man. He should know. It should be branded in his head. She wondered what he was going to get her. Last year he’d bought her hand-crafted jewelry that she really liked, and had taken her to Seattle for the weekend. Funny how that coincided with the Mariners game they went to. But she hadn’t complained. She loved that crystal bracelet he’d got her from Sunshine’s. Sunshine was a former hippy turned actress who’d retired from Hollywood and now sold one-of-a-kind things from her shop on Main Street.

    “I know it’s your birthday, babe.” Drew drank his coffee and gazed at her over the rim. “You think I’ve got numb-chucks for a brain?”

    “No.” She slipped her shoe out of his pant leg when he didn’t move to continue the game. This was getting harder and harder. She used to be able to seduce him without even trying.

    She must have been pouting because he reached over, took her hand and kissed her fingers. “You look nice today.”

    That’s all it took. She lit up inside like a Fourth of July display, and that got her through their breakfast with an optimistic smile that said they’d be having dessert at her place.

    Opal cleared their plates, then topped off Drew’s coffee. She went to do the same for hers, but Jacquie put her hand over the rim. “Opal, we need the check. We’ve got to get going.”

    Drew didn’t say anything to the contrary. He pulled out his wallet, put his credit card on the table. Of all the days not to pay in cash. Now Opal would have to run the card.

    “I got it, baby,” Jacquie said, sliding the plastic back to him. “Business breakfast. Tax deduction.”

    She opened her purse, grabbed a couple of bills from her wallet and tossed them onto the table. Her butt was sliding across the crumb-dusted booth as she spoke. “I need your opinion on something at my house.”

    Drew didn’t make a move to get up. “Yeah, what?”

    “I’m hanging a new painting and I want you to tell me if you think it looks good over the fireplace.”

    “Hell, Jacquie, I don’t know anything about decorating.”

    “Of course you do.” She stood over him now, her hand reaching out to him. “You have an eye for everything. Your house is disgusting.”

    And she didn’t mean that in a negative way. It was disgusting because the man had a knack for knowing just how to furnish and decorate without overdoing it. His home was made up of dark woods, four fireplaces and a kitchen that any gourmet would kill to have. And Drew could do a pretty good job of cooking, too.

    The man was multifaceted, but completely irritating to her just this exact second. She was all but ripping her clothes off in front of him and he was dragging his feet.

    “I can’t stay long,” he told her, acquiescing.

    Bingo!

    She didn’t need a long time. He knew exactly what to do and he did it well.

    As they headed for the door, Drew paused. “Forgot something.”

    From inside the kitchen, Opal’s face appeared through the pass-through window. She was talking to one of the cooks, a lit cigarette wagging from the corner of her lipsticked mouth. Drew waved her over.

    “Yes, Drew?” She all but panted, probably burned the rubber soles on her Keds to get to him so fast.

    “I need you to bag up a dozen biscuits and throw in some of that special clover honey.”

    Hesitation marked Opal’s heavily powdered face, her tomato-red lipstick glossy as if she’d just applied a fresh coat before crushing out her cigarette. “Now, Drew…if these are for Ada, she told me she’s on South Beach and she can’t eat them.”

    “Right. She mentioned that. So I’ll tell you what, only bag up a half dozen.”

    Opal was appeased by the