Distracted Read Online Free

schedule.”
    Spence snorted softly and raised his beer to his
lips.
    “You think that’s funny?”
    He lifted his sunglasses and winked at her. “Honey, I
don’t have a schedule.”
    “Well, now you do, Mr. Spence. You’ve signed a
contract to produce a book, and there are deadlines to meet. I’m
here to make sure you do. And,” she added, “I’m not your
‘honey.’”
    “Touchy, eh? You married?”
    “No. Not that it’s any of your business,” Erin said,
stonily staring across the wetlands.
    “Relax, sweetheart. Just don’t want some angry
husband knocking on the door next week.”
    “Well, you won’t. And don’t call me sweetheart,
either.”
    “Don’t you like men?”
    Erin sputtered angrily. This conversation is getting
way out of control, she thought. “Mr. Spence …”
    “Spence.”
    “Mr. Spence! I’m here to do a job. My sexual
preferences are none of your concern.”
    “So hands off, huh?”
    “If I want a relationship, I’ll get a puppy,” she
snarled.
    “Hmmm. Sounds like the voice of experience,” Spence
observed.
    Erin frowned. In the distance, the Pamlico Sound
shimmered.
     
    * * *
     
    Four beers later Erin was sitting on the deck, her
legs stretched in front of her, burning in the mid-afternoon sun.
She felt loopy. Her continental breakfast had consisted of a plain
bagel and a Styrofoam cup of bitter orange juice. She missed dinner
the night before. She began chewing on lime rinds and peeking into
the cracks of the deck for stray peanuts.
    So far she had learned that Stephen Spence rarely got
up before noon, and it was only because he fell asleep in the
hammock late last night that she had the pleasure of his company
now.
    He also talked a bit about Ocracoke, telling her how
his family came to the small island.
    “I was born here. There’s not many of us; about 800
or so year-round residents. My folks came to the Outer Banks in the
‘60s and opened one of the first dive shops in the area. My dad was
in the Navy and learned how to dive. He taught my mom, and they
worked together for years.”
    Erin nodded gently, relaxing at his soft, Southern
accent.
    “How long have they been married?”
    “My dad is gone now. He died a few years ago.”
    “Oh, sorry to hear that.”
    Spence sobered. “He died of emphysema. He
smoked.”
    “What about your mom? How is she?”
    “She gets along. Still runs the dive shop. She’s a
tough old lady.”
    “How old is she?”
    “Well, I’m the youngest, and she had me late. She was
in her forties, I think. Surprised as hell when I came along. She’s
in her seventies now, but she doesn’t act like it.”
    Finally, he swung his legs out of the hammock and
walked over to his guest. She licked her lips. They felt swollen
and more hairy than the kneecaps in front of her. He offered his
hand. She put her left hand into his and waited.
    “One, two, three.”
    He pulled her to her feet at “three” and smiled.
Devastating, she thought, her gut clenching at his brilliant, white
smile.
    She leaned against the bar and burped.
    “Oh, my gosh! Excuse me,” she said. “I’m not used to
drinking beer for lunch.” She valiantly swallowed the next
burp.
    “Don’t apologize. I’m impressed. “ Stephen Spence
smiled again, disarming her. “Let’s go inside. You’ve had too much
sun.”
    He picked up her purse and slung it over his
shoulder. Then he put a hand on her shoulder and steered her
towards a sliding glass door. Once inside, her head began to clear.
It was at least ten degrees cooler and she spied a large, white
sofa.
    “Sanctuary!”
    “I take it you’re not from the South?”
    Erin slumped on the couch and, uninhibited by the
alcohol, stretched out and sighed.
    “No. I live in D.C. but I’m from Pennsylvania.”
    “You tired?”
    “Mm hmm.”
    “How ‘bout I let you take a nap while I shower? You
mind if I leave you alone for awhile?”
    Erin snored softly.
    “I’ll take that as a yes.”
    He stood in the middle of