Let It Be Me, Becky Wade [beautiful books to read .TXT] 📗

to go on another non-date with me?”

“I’m genuinely concerned about Ben.”

“That’s valid,” he said. “Will you talk to him? I think that might help.”

She pushed her lips to the side, clearly thinking it through.

“What else is the matter?” he asked. He could see there was more.

“Honestly, my singleness is part of my identity. I like being unattached. My job and my brother are challenging, so it’s wonderful to have one aspect of my life that’s simple.”

“I’m not asking you to become attached to me. I’m only asking for a few more non-dates. Simple.”

The music continued, but he stopped their motion.

With the lightest pressure possible, he drifted the fingertips of one hand from her chin along her jaw. His touch circled her earlobe and skimmed down the side of her neck. His heart began to pound. “I have a confession,” he said.

“Do tell.”

“Running into you at the football game was not a coincidence. I volunteered that night because I knew you’d be there.”

“We only talked for five minutes,” she whispered breathlessly.

“It was worth it.”

“Running into you outside your house the day I went walking wasn’t a coincidence, either.”

“Oh?”

“I found out where you lived, parked nearby, and walked your neighborhood.”

“Why?”

“To test my magnetic response to you. And you know what?” She smiled a little. “It was worth it.”

Pleasure poured into him. “You hammered out several terms for tonight’s date. But there’s one term you didn’t insist on this time.”

“I didn’t specify that we would not kiss.”

“Exactly.”

“That was not an oversight on my part. I omitted that term because I no longer wanted to abide by that term.”

His body howled with need, but he made himself move slowly. He supported her jaw with his hands. Shared her breath.

With effort, Leah stayed immobile while her body flushed.

When he pressed his lips to hers, his mouth was warm, soft, confident . . . and her physical form turned to flame.

She tasted him. Smelled his spicy scent. Felt his hands sliding into her hair. Confound it. Kissing him was like standing, exhilarated, at the edge of Niagara Falls. Hearing the roar. Letting the emotions shake through you.

Opulent minutes spun, one into the next.

No wonder women behaved foolishly over men! This was splendid and humbling. She’d been so smug about her good, safe decisions when it came to the opposite sex. But that was before she’d experienced for herself the mighty temptation a man could present.

“Will you,” he said when they pulled slightly apart, “meet me for another non-date?” His voice sounded gravelly.

Her lips tingled. She didn’t want to talk. She wanted to kiss him more. And not so that she could enlarge her data set of interactions with men. Because of how he made her feel.

He kissed the inside of her wrist, then drew it up and behind his neck. “Please?”

“You’re a hard man to say no to.”

“So I’ve been told.”

A sound of amusement escaped her. “Fine. I’ll meet you for another non-date.”

His lips met hers again. Demanding and raw. Intimate and tender.

Kissing Sebastian consumed her consciousness and forced her to live so fully in the present that every one of her concerns dropped away.

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

A tentative knock sounded on Leah’s classroom door the next morning.

Leah straightened from the stack of quizzes she’d been grading. “Come in.”

Claire Dobney shuffled forward for their scheduled tutoring session wearing a voluminous sweater, this one in shades of beige. Black leggings and Converse that had seen better days completed the outfit.

Shortly after Leah learned about the stress the teenager was under at home, she’d suggested Claire meet her for math tutoring twice a week during Leah’s planning period, which was also Claire’s advisory period.

Leah waved her to the chair nearest her desk. “How are you?”

“Okay.”

Leah had learned from Claire that she was the oldest of four. Her sister Becca was in middle school. Her brother Mason was in fourth grade. Her sister Annie was in first.

Leah’s role as Dylan’s older sister had sculpted her character. She’d never forget how protective she’d felt toward her brother when her parents were fighting, so she knew what it was to harbor anxiety not just for your own well-being but, much harder to bear, for the well-being of a sibling.

“Have things improved at home?” Leah asked.

“No.”

Claire’s answer supported Leah’s own suspicions. She’d been keeping an eye on the girl, who seemed even jumpier and wearier lately. “Is your dad physically abusive toward your mom?”

Claire looked down at her knees, where she clasped her math binder and textbook with both hands.

“Please know,” Leah said, “that you can tell me the truth. My shoulders are strong enough to carry it.”

“No, he hasn’t been physically abusive, but I’m worried he’ll get that way soon.”

“Because?”

“Well . . . he’s always had a temper, but it’s gotten worse the last few months. He’s mad a lot, so then Mom gets mad, too. He’s been throwing things, breaking things.”

“Any idea what caused this change?”

“I think things have been bad for him at work.”

“I’m really sorry, Claire.”

“It’s okay.”

“Is there anything I can do?”

“I don’t think there’s anything anyone can do.”

“I know you’ve continued to meet with Ms. Williams.” Leah had been in communication with the school counselor about Claire. “Has that been helpful?”

Claire shrugged. “Sort of.”

“Do you have reservations about talking with her?”

“She’s nice . . . for sure. I just don’t know her well, so it feels really weird to tell her stuff.”

Worry circled within Leah because her intuition was telling her that Claire needed to be confiding in trustworthy adults. “How about you add my number to your contacts? If you ever need to call me—to come and get you or for any other reason—please do.” Though she was sixteen, Claire didn’t yet have her driver’s license.

“Thank you, Ms. Montgomery.”

Later that day, en route to her car after work, Leah checked her phone and saw that an unfamiliar number had left a voice mail for her. She retrieved it and listened as she walked to a loud and husky female voice say, “This is Joyce Caffarella