Tangled Up in Love Read Online Free PDF

him.”
    “Good to know you’ve got your priorities straight,” Grace quipped, setting aside her knitting and grabbing her now empty mug.
    “Isn’t it, though?”
    The conversation branched off into other topics as Grace moved to the sideboard to make more hot tea, Jenna close on her heels. Ronnie hadn’t gotten a drink yet, mostly because she was looking forward to a cocktail or two at The Penalty Box later. But maybe after a couple more rows, she’d grab a bottle of water.
    “Excuse me,” a voice broke in, and Ronnie froze in midstitch.
    She was sitting with her back to the store, so she hadn’t seen anyone come up, but she knew that voice. It was male, deep, and rumbling, and she knew, just
knew
who it belonged to.
    To six feet of rugged, well-built male. One with sandy blond hair and eyes the same blue as a patch of bachelor’s buttons blowing in the breeze.
    A heavy, lead weight settled at the bottom of her stomach as she swallowed hard and waited. Maybe if she didn’t move, he wouldn’t realize she was there. Maybe if she let someone else respond to his question, he would get the answer he wanted and be on his merry way.
    Rolling only her eyes as far to the left as they would go, she glanced at Grace and Jenna, noticing that both women were standing stock-still at the refreshment counter, matching expressions of shocked horror etched on their faces.
    Oh, God.
    But of course Charlotte had never met a person she didn’t immediately take a liking to, and she was the first to pipe up.
    “Yes?”
    “Is this the Wednesday night knitting group?”
    It was definitely Dylan. She’d recognize his voice anywhere, especially since he seemed to be standing directly behind her, towering over her armchair, so close she was surprised she couldn’t feel his breath on the back of her neck.
    God bless Melanie for having the chutzpah to say what she couldn’t at the moment.
    “No, honey,” her friend deadpanned, lifting her knitting a few inches higher, “these are golf clubs and we were just about to tee off. Care to join us?”
    Ronnie bit her tongue, sinking lower in the cushions of her chair as she covered her mouth with both hands to keep from snickering. If it was anybody else on the receiving end of that remark, she’d have felt sorry for the poor bastard. But since the current recipient happened to be her sworn enemy, and it was no less than Dylan deserved . . .
    Behind her, she heard him shuffle his feet. She could picture him standing there, looking infinitely hot in some snug tee or button-up shirt, with a jacket over top in deference to the rainy weather. And he would of course be wearing his typical faded blue jeans, since he’d never met a pair of Levi’s that didn’t frame his pinchable ass to perfection.
    Not that she’d ever paid all that much attention to his appearance.
    Remaining perfectly still and silent, Ronnie prayed that Dylan had gotten his answer and was turning to leave.
    Is this the Wednesday night knitting group?
Yes.
Thank you very much, I’ll be on my way.
    It could happen.
    A few chairs away, Charlotte made a
tsk
ing soundand sent Melanie a disapproving frown. “Pay no attention to her, dear. If you’re looking for the Knit Wits, then you’ve come to the right place. Can we help you with something?”
    “I sure hope so,” he replied,
not
leaving, as Ronnie had so desperately wished he would. “I’m in need of a bit of instruction about learning to knit. Would anyone here be willing to teach me, at least the basics?”
    Yep, that was about right. Of all the craft stores and all the knitting groups in the city, of course he would walk into hers.
    Damn Murphy and his law straight to Hell.
    Ronnie’s lips parted, her mind screaming
nooooooooooo
at the top of her lungs while in reality her mouth worked like a fish’s and no sound beyond a tiny squeak came out. Then, before her motor functions could return to normal, Charlotte . . . dear, sweet, benevolent,