Angel Falls (Angel Falls Series, #1), Babette Jongh [books for 6 year olds to read themselves .TXT] 📗
- Author: Babette Jongh
Book online «Angel Falls (Angel Falls Series, #1), Babette Jongh [books for 6 year olds to read themselves .TXT] 📗». Author Babette Jongh
I wanted to call Ian, but I called Ben instead. Smoothing the comforter over my thighs, I leaned back against the headboard, waiting for Ben to answer his cell. I could just barely hear the bedtime music I’d put on for Amy in the next room. Other than that, the house was quiet. After a few rings, I figured I’d have to leave a message, but then he answered.
“Hey, Casey.”
“Ben, I found y’all a house. Joan left a key so we can look at it tomorrow.”
“That’s great. But I won’t be home until Sunday.”
“Sunday? But you said—”
“I’ve been asked to stay and socialize. I kind of have to.”
“Ben, has it occurred to you that I might have other plans beyond keeping your kids indefinitely?” As it turned out, I didn’t, but he didn’t know that.
Ben made a huffing sound of exasperation—as if he had any right to be exasperated with me. “Go ahead and show the house to the kids, and if you can’t keep them after that, I guess you can take them to Lois and Herb’s.”
“I can watch them.” Since I’d blown it with Ian for good, I might as well be taking care of Ben’s kids. “I’ll take them to see it tomorrow.”
“Good. Then I’ll see it on Sunday.”
“Okay, fine.” I sighed.
“Casey, you sound a little off. Is everything okay?”
“It’s been one of those days.”
“Except for finding the house.”
I sniffed. “That was definitely the high point.”
“Well, tuck the kids in and get some sleep. Maybe I can try to get home late tomorrow night.”
“No. I don’t want you driving on that road at night unless you have to. I’ll see you Sunday.” I hung up the phone and scooted down into my nest of pillows, then pulled the comforter up to my chin and waited for my body heat to create a warm cocoon. I had just started to get toasty when the bedside phone rang, jolting me out of a light doze. I managed to snatch the receiver up before the second ring.
“Hello? Ben?”
“It’s Ian. You didn’t answer your cell.” His voice sounded strained, and I knew it had cost him to call me here, at Ben’s house. But he’d called, so maybe it wasn’t really over between us. Maybe I had another chance. He could still buy the house he was renting. He could still decide not to sell the newspaper.
“Hi.” I stacked pillows at the headboard and leaned against them. “My cell is muted for the night. I’m glad you called.”
“I just got back into town. I had to drive Bianca to the airport, and rush hour traffic in Birmingham was horrible.”
Bianca. So that was the curvaceous beauty’s name. It suited her. “Oh,” was all I could think of to say.
Ian cleared his throat. “I called to apologize. I shouldn’t have spoken to you the way I did this afternoon. You’re not like Maeve, and I shouldn’t have compared you to her. That was unfair.”
“I was unfair to you, too, and I’m sorry.”
“Is Ben there?”
“Of course not. I’m here because he isn’t.”
“I’m coming over. See you in twenty minutes.” Then he hung up.
Still wearing my flannel nightgown, I went out onto the front porch to wait for him. Lizzie followed, taking the opportunity for a nighttime potty and patrol around the yard.
My heart rate tripled when Ian’s car pulled into the drive. Butterflies flooded my insides when he killed the lights and stepped out of the car. They started doing backflips as he came up the walk. Everything about him made those butterflies flutter and swarm. His broad shoulders, gleaming black hair, the devastating smile I could just make out when he got closer to the porch light.
I opened the front door and stepped into the foyer. Lizzie scooted past into the dark house. “Come in. It’s freezing out here.”
“No wonder you’re cold.” He came in, closed the door, turned the bolt, took me in his arms. “If you were wearing something besides this...”
“It’s called a nightgown, Ian. And it’s more fabric than you’ve ever seen me in yet.” I shivered against him, absorbing the delicious heat beneath his jacket for a minute, then pulled away and led him into the darkened den. I had closed the doors to the kids’ rooms and the hallway. We would have complete privacy for our talk, unless one of the kids woke up.
I prayed that wouldn’t happen, because once Ian’s body pressed mine into the couch, we didn’t do much talking. Explanations could come later. Right now, I wanted nothing more than to climb into his skin and inhabit his warm strength.
In Ian’s arms, I felt a sense of rightness, of belonging, of blessed relief. I sent up a silent prayer of thanks. “I missed you.” Sliding my hands around the muscular warmth of Ian’s ribs and back, I kissed him with joyous abandon. “I’ve missed you so much.”
He trailed kisses down my neck and murmured against my throat. “I’ve missed you, too.”
His hands molded my breasts, skimmed my ribs, caressed my hips. His touch roused me to squirming, panting, gasping need, and I reveled in the electrical response of every nerve-ending. Through the combined layers of our clothing, his erection pressed into the aching cleft between my legs. Full, hard, insistent.
The thick folds of my nightgown wrapped around us both, and Ian tugged at the voluminous fabric, pulling it up though his weight trapped it between us. I reached down and tried to help, hiking up handfuls of cotton and lace to expose—
“Aunt Casey.”
I sat up abruptly, banging my forehead against Ian’s with an audible crack. I pushed Ian to one side of the couch and scooted out from under him. I held out my arms for Amy, who stood uncertainly in the doorway, outlined by the hall light.
Somehow, I made my voice work. “Hey, what’s the matter? Come here.”
Amy crept forward, clutching her security blanket, thumb securely in
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