Waiting for Wednesday Read Online Free PDF Page B

confided in him that she’d grown up in a long line of foster and group homes, a ward of the state for as long as she could remember. His heart had ached to hear her talk so nonchalantly about her childhood, spent drifting from one set of foster parents to another. He’d gotten the impression a couple of the places she’d lived had not only been uncaring, but unsafe.
    While she swore she was never molested or beaten, he had a strong sense there had been some verbal abuse.
    Until hearing her story, he’d never appreciated how truly blessed he’d been with his family. As the third child of seven, he probably should have felt lost in the shuffle, but he never had.
    His mother died when he and his twin brother Killian were fifteen, and not a day passed that he didn’t miss her. Sunday Collins had been his idea of the perfect female and, until he’d met Lane, he hadn’t expected to ever meet a woman like her. His mother had been compassionate, beautiful, patient and loving. As he looked down at Lane, he realized she shared the exact same traits.
    She caught him staring and offered a timid smile. “You’re deep in thought.” He nodded as she lowered her feet from his lap and pushed herself to a sitting position.
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    Mari Carr
    “I suppose I should go—”
    Tris cut off her words with a kiss. He reached over and pulled her to him as she spoke, unable to bear the thought of her leaving without sampling a small taste of her sweetness. He’d expected her to fight him and was thrilled when she returned his kiss, wrapping her hands around his neck to hold him closer. Her response broke the chains on his restraint and he gripped her hips, dragging her leg over his lap. They both moaned when he shoved her skirt up and positioned her over his covered cock. The heat of her pussy penetrated the thick denim, and he pushed against her.
    “Want you,” he murmured when they broke away from the passionate kiss. Her reaction was detonating electrical impulses in every nerve ending in his body and he thought he would go mad with the intensity, the power of her touches.
    “God, Tris,” she breathed against his lips. “I—” Footsteps on the stairs halted her words and he felt an honest-to-God pain reverberate through his body when she quickly stood, her skirt falling back into place.
    He’d been a fool to start this on the living room couch and he felt guilty when he saw her flushed face. He rose and took her shaking hand in his.
    “Sorry,” he muttered as he turned toward the entrance of the apartment, surprised to find Sean and Ewan on either side of Pop.
    “What’s going on?” Tris asked as an anxious Riley and Keira followed them into the room.
    Their fiery interlude was forgotten in a moment and Lane rushed to help as his brothers put Pop on the couch. His father tried to speak, but his words sounded like gibberish.
    “Riley.” Lane bent over to look into Pop’s eyes. “Call 9-1-1. Right now.” Her anxious tone alarmed his sister.
    “What’s wrong with him? What is it?” Riley asked, her voice trembling.
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    Waiting for Wednesday
    “Just do what Lane said.” Tris realized of all of them, Lane was probably the best equipped to deal with this situation.
    “Mr. Collins?” Lane tried to capture Pop’s wavering attention. His father, always sharp as a hawk, looked dazed, confused. “Mr. Collins,” she repeated louder. “Can you tell me how many fingers I’m holding up?” She held two fingers in front of his face.
    Pop tried to answer, but his word was garbled, unrecognizable.
    “I called,” Riley said. “The ambulance is on the way.” Lane nodded as Ewan—visibly shaken—stepped forward. “He said his leg was numb. I figured he’d been on his feet too long. It was a helluva busy night. I told him he should come upstairs and lie down. He took two steps and almost fell. Thank God Sean was right there and caught him or he would have hit the floor. Pop told us to get him upstairs, but then his talking