A Woman To Blame Read Online Free Page B
Author: Susan Connell
that because he was folding them tightly across his chest.
Turning fully in her direction, he lowered his chin. Under other circumstances, he could have been lowering his head to kiss her, or inviting her to kiss him. From the intensity of his expression, she was certain kissing wasn't on his list of things to do to her. For one wild moment, she thought, With lips like yours, it should be on your list of things to do to me. The brazen idea had her cheeks scalding.
Rick considered pulling back from her, but he hadn't been near this much life in years. He closed his eyes long enough to remind himself about the important things in his world, and this woman was not one of them. "If you cared about Pappy, this place, and these people... but you don't."
She inched up closer to him. "But I do."
He lowered his face nearer hers. "The hell you do!"
"Will you please stop swearing?" she asked, scissoring her hands between them.
"Will you stop meddling?" he asked, countering her with his rising voice.
"Meddling?! I am not meddling. You – you just want someone to blame because you won't have your favorite hangout to do whatever you do. You're not at all concerned about the people –"
A third voice broke in, startling both of them to near-military attention.
"If you two cared any more about the people on this key, we'd all have to get earplugs."
Rick felt the breath rush from his lungs the second he realized who it was at the barroom door. Malabar Key's oldest cheerleader. "Hello, Liza. I didn't see you there."
"I'm not surprised," the gray-haired woman said before chuckling. "If you two can pull yourselves away from this engaging display of emotion and step out of the kitchen away from the knives, I'd like to talk with you."
He hadn't missed the not-so-hidden message in the older woman's voice. She was talking about the volatile male-female chemistry building between Bryn and him. A chemistry he could neutralize any time he wanted. Except for that unwanted physical arousal, he could turn off this feeling. What was bothering him had nothing personal to do with this flighty female with the expensive haircut and obvious time on her hands. Yes, she'd managed to stir up forgotten needs and touch him down deep in those dark and lonely places in less than twenty minutes, but that didn't mean a thing. Dammit to hell. He didn't want Bryn Madison.
All he wanted was his bar back!
Chapter 2
Rick never thought a surprise encounter with Liza Manning could be considered a blessing, but today that was a distinct possibility. The sixtyish widow with the steel-colored braid usually had a problem she insisted only "Captain Parrish" could solve. Right now he'd be delighted to row the indefatigable woman all the way to Havana if she requested it.
No matter how anxious he was to end this emotionally charged discussion with Bryn, he hadn't turned into a raving lunatic. He knew Liza, and to offer her blatant encouragement would be a mistake. The widow's life was dedicated to community service, along with drawing everyone she could into the same endeavor. As often as possible he managed to sidestep her efforts to involve him in her projects. True, no one cared more about Malabar Key than him, but it wasn't his style to get himself included in Liza's endless committee meetings. Not that he or anyone could escape her for long. Liza had talked him into painting the fire hall, signing a petition for an enhanced version of the recycling program, and taking the kindergarten class on a fishing trip—a trip that had cost him two good rods and an afternoon of unrelenting depression. All this in one seven-day period.
"I got back this afternoon, Liza. I just heard about Pappy," he said, moving away from Bryn. Standing in the doorway, Liza gave a sympathetic shake of her head as Rick strode by her and headed toward the bar. A bar with no beer. Balling his fists, he resisted the urge to cringe. Bryn Madison was ruining the place.
"Pappy's
Turning fully in her direction, he lowered his chin. Under other circumstances, he could have been lowering his head to kiss her, or inviting her to kiss him. From the intensity of his expression, she was certain kissing wasn't on his list of things to do to her. For one wild moment, she thought, With lips like yours, it should be on your list of things to do to me. The brazen idea had her cheeks scalding.
Rick considered pulling back from her, but he hadn't been near this much life in years. He closed his eyes long enough to remind himself about the important things in his world, and this woman was not one of them. "If you cared about Pappy, this place, and these people... but you don't."
She inched up closer to him. "But I do."
He lowered his face nearer hers. "The hell you do!"
"Will you please stop swearing?" she asked, scissoring her hands between them.
"Will you stop meddling?" he asked, countering her with his rising voice.
"Meddling?! I am not meddling. You – you just want someone to blame because you won't have your favorite hangout to do whatever you do. You're not at all concerned about the people –"
A third voice broke in, startling both of them to near-military attention.
"If you two cared any more about the people on this key, we'd all have to get earplugs."
Rick felt the breath rush from his lungs the second he realized who it was at the barroom door. Malabar Key's oldest cheerleader. "Hello, Liza. I didn't see you there."
"I'm not surprised," the gray-haired woman said before chuckling. "If you two can pull yourselves away from this engaging display of emotion and step out of the kitchen away from the knives, I'd like to talk with you."
He hadn't missed the not-so-hidden message in the older woman's voice. She was talking about the volatile male-female chemistry building between Bryn and him. A chemistry he could neutralize any time he wanted. Except for that unwanted physical arousal, he could turn off this feeling. What was bothering him had nothing personal to do with this flighty female with the expensive haircut and obvious time on her hands. Yes, she'd managed to stir up forgotten needs and touch him down deep in those dark and lonely places in less than twenty minutes, but that didn't mean a thing. Dammit to hell. He didn't want Bryn Madison.
All he wanted was his bar back!
Chapter 2
Rick never thought a surprise encounter with Liza Manning could be considered a blessing, but today that was a distinct possibility. The sixtyish widow with the steel-colored braid usually had a problem she insisted only "Captain Parrish" could solve. Right now he'd be delighted to row the indefatigable woman all the way to Havana if she requested it.
No matter how anxious he was to end this emotionally charged discussion with Bryn, he hadn't turned into a raving lunatic. He knew Liza, and to offer her blatant encouragement would be a mistake. The widow's life was dedicated to community service, along with drawing everyone she could into the same endeavor. As often as possible he managed to sidestep her efforts to involve him in her projects. True, no one cared more about Malabar Key than him, but it wasn't his style to get himself included in Liza's endless committee meetings. Not that he or anyone could escape her for long. Liza had talked him into painting the fire hall, signing a petition for an enhanced version of the recycling program, and taking the kindergarten class on a fishing trip—a trip that had cost him two good rods and an afternoon of unrelenting depression. All this in one seven-day period.
"I got back this afternoon, Liza. I just heard about Pappy," he said, moving away from Bryn. Standing in the doorway, Liza gave a sympathetic shake of her head as Rick strode by her and headed toward the bar. A bar with no beer. Balling his fists, he resisted the urge to cringe. Bryn Madison was ruining the place.
"Pappy's
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