A Will and a Way Read Online Free Page A

socks.” Her eyes sparkled with delight.
    He couldn’t have looked away if his corneas depended on it. “You drink kerosene often?”
    “Only when I’ve had a really trying day,” she replied primly. She smiled her thanks when Marty slid a glass of blood-red wine in front of her.
    “Another?” the bartender asked Will.
    He eyed the finger of scotch in his glass speculatively, then gave his head a brisk shake. “I’m good for now. Thanks.”
    The moment the bartender’s back was turned, Betty lifted the glass to her nose and gave a tentative sniff.
    “It’s an Australian Shiraz,” Will informed her. She didn’t bother hiding her surprise, so he countered with a placid stare. “Taste it. It’s good. No socks added.”
    She did as he prompted then turned to him with a sheepish smile. “It is good, but I really shouldn’t drink it. I had a glass at home before I came out.”
    He propped an elbow on the bar and slid her a sidelong glance as he reclaimed his own glass. “Ah, that explains the dastardly second glass. Tell me did Marty’s wine taste like clean socks or dirty?”
    “For my own peace of mind, I’m going to say clean.”
    There was something about her voice that drew him in. She was southern, that much was obvious and all too arousing. Sweet as honey, but smoky as aged bourbon. “And what happens if you drink a third glass?”
    “Things that can only be spoken of in hushed tones,” she replied, matching his tone of mock severity.
    He nodded as he digested that tidbit of information, took a sip of scotch, then turned to face her. “Drink up. I promise to keep my voice low.”
    Betty unzipped her parka and reached for the stem of the glass. The wine danced along the sides of the bowl as she swirled. Beneath the bar, her knee brushed his. “Will Sister Laurent mind that I’m drinking her wine?”
    “I may have to bang some erasers at recess, but no, I don’t think so.” He gave her a wry smile. “Sister Laurent prides herself on being the soul of Christian charity.”
    “Ah, pride.” She cleared her throat, tucked her chin to her chest and locked her gaze on the far-less-dangerous third glass of wine. “Isn’t that one of the deadliest sins?”
    “I imagine, like the rest of us, the good sister has racked up a few others,” he said, tossing off his favorite nun’s eternal soul with a shrug. “She never shares her pretzel bowl, so that’s both greed and gluttony. I’ve always suspected her of coveting Sister Magdalene’s onyx rosary, even though she complains that the beads click too loud.”
    He leaned in closer, but she stared straight ahead. He wanted to swirl his tongue along the curve of her neck, feel her pulse skip and jump in her throat, suck her ear lobe between his lips and bite. Ever so gently.
    She shivered and he gave in to temptation. He brushed the barest of kisses across her ear, and her spine lost a gratifying bit of starch. “I know she’s guilty of lust, too.”
    Betty stiffened, but not in revulsion. If anything, she leaned in closer, her breathing soft and shallow. “She is?”
    “Sister Laurent only drinks Australian wine.”
    He caught the scent of scotch on his own breath and prayed it didn’t offend her. She braced a hand on his knee. Not too high, but close enough to kick things up to DEFCON five in terms of arousal. He gave her ear another nuzzle then retreated to his stool before he was tempted to take things a step too far.
    She blinked and gave her head a slight shake, but her hand didn’t move. “I don’t understand what lust has to do with wine.”
    “Don’t you?” He spoke the question in undertone.
    She answered by giving his thigh a gentle squeeze then took her hand away.
    Heaving a sigh, he closed his eyes, hoping a slight change in topic might help him downshift. “Have you ever read The Thorn Birds ?”
    Her lashes fluttered and her brow beetled. Will was sure he’d never found befuddlement as sexy on any other woman.
    “ The