Addicted To Him (Man Season) Read Online Free Page A

tells me such a nice
thing. I like you, as well. I think you’re just the sort of woman Fleet needs;
which of course, means Ned Grant will hate you at first sight. Watch out for
him, if you ever have the bad fortune of meeting him.”
    “I will.”
    He drove her back to the little blue
house on Partridge Street , and was quite admiring of her
mother’s landscaping, and her mother, too, who was pulling weeds by the back
yard arbor.
    Callie came walking towards them,
wearing her usual weary expression. But when her eyes met Digby’s they lit up
like sparklers.
    “Who’s this now, Tegan ?”
    “This is Digby ,
Fleet’s … what should I call you?”
    “ Butler would be the correct term.”
    “Okay, though it seems a bit Old World for California .”
    “Quite a few Californians have
butlers, darling. I’m glad to meet you, Mr. Digby .”
    “The same to you, Mrs. St. Clair. Tegan has
told me quite a lot about you.”
    “All good things, I hope.”
    “Yes, yes, quite.”
    “ Digby was
admiring your flowers, Mom. He’s a gardener, too.”
    “Oh, would you like to see some new plants
I’ve just put in?”
    “Yes, I’d love to.”
    He stepped out of the car, followed
her to the back yard. Tegan felt a bit invisible.
    “I guess I’ll go inside,” she yelled
to Callie.
    “You do that, honey. See you later.”
    Tegan stood there, unbelieving. Her mom
hadn’t looked twice at a man in years and there she was chatting up Digby like a schoolgirl. Was it spring or something?
    She entered the Cape Cod style house, climbed the narrow
stairs up to her bedroom. It was a private haven; the windows surrounded by sheltering
poplars and palms but still open enough so that the sun could slip through and
heat up her shivery bones. The bed was built into the wall, with curtains she
could close for warmth. The rest of the room reminded her of a Swedish log
cabin with its unvarnished wood paneling and red patterned rugs.
    She perused her wardrobe for some
fresh duds, realized she didn’t have that much clothes. Not like other women.
She’d buy something on clearance, wear it a few times then take it to Goodwill.
And her shoes were sensible flats she could be comfortable in at work. There
wasn’t one pair of heels or anything glamorous in her closet. The only thing
she ever splurged on was lingerie and she wasn’t sure why, except that it made
her feel sexy and kind of wicked.
    She threw on some jeans and a faded T
shirt and snuggled up on the bed with a dog-eared copy of A Tree Grows in
Brooklyn that she’d found in a second hand shop a few days before.
    She couldn’t get past the first
chapter – her mind was too busy trying to solve mysteries. Why had Fleet run
out on her? No emergency could be so dire if a man truly wanted to stay with a
girl. It’d been an excuse; she knew that. She felt used, and angry and hurt.
And yet she was desperate to be near him again, to breathe in the scent of him,
to taste the tangy sweet juices of his kisses, to feel the length of him
sinking into her.
    Tegan finally replaced the book; sat
crying on her bed until the tears formed a heart-shaped stain on her shirt.
    “This won’t do!” she fussed. Then she
changed into a black bra and bikini briefs, and a pretty red dress with
matching ballerina flats, washed her face, applied her regular make-up and
headed outside to catch the bus on the corner. Callie and Digby were still in the garden, talking. Callie looked up, surprised to see Tegan on the bus. She waved; Tegan nodded then turned her head away. She felt ashamed of herself; deep down she
was jealous that her mom had made an acquaintance. Maybe she wasn’t afraid for
Callie to be alone – maybe she was afraid SHE would be left alone.
    “I told you I’d cover you today if
you wanted to sleep in. What happened? Wasn’t he any good?”
    “I’d rather not talk about it, Kerry,
if you don’t mind.”
    “Sure, I understand. I’ve been in that
boat often enough myself. It’s