Ready to Fall Read Online Free
Author: Olivia Dade
to to dramatic women. He could spot a performance a mile away. And for a couple of minutes, as sheâd fanned herself and occasionally shouted âJesus, itâs hot!â loudly enough to be heard all the way in the back of his shop, that was exactly what heâd witnessed. A performance, put on for his benefit. Or, more precisely, for hersâso he would take pity on her and give her what she wanted. His attention. Now.
But in the past few minutes, her feigned discomfort had become real. Somewhere around the time heâd heard a muffled âOw!â and seen her slap at her arm, sheâd stopped performing. Now, when she wasnât watching the storefront, she kept plucking her clothing away from her body and glaring up at the sun. She wasnât even bothering to yell about the heat anymore.
She also wasnât moving an inch. For that, she had his grudging respect.
It was fucking hot outside, as he knew from his ride. And standing in the fiery stillness of a July day, she was melting. Even from a distance, he could see perspiration dotting her face and neck. Her lime-green T-shirt was damp and sticking to her small breasts, while her sweat-spotted khaki shorts clung faithfully to the ample curves of her tummy, hips, and ass.
In the art history class heâd taken almost twenty years ago, heâd seen images of women like her. Well, not exactly. She was kind of a shrimp. But add another few inches to her stature, and sheâd have made a perfect model for Rubens. Round and inviting. Exactly the sort of woman heâd always admired, though Brianna hadnât looked at all likeâ
No. He wouldnât think of his ex. She hadnât broken his heart, after all. Just damaged his pride, stripped him of his best friend, and spurred him to reevaluate his life. And during that reevaluation, heâd come to the conclusion that he didnât need another woman right now. Not while he was still moving past the last one. Not while he was still trying to build a business and a life for himself in a new community.
So he shouldnât consider this random, sweaty woman outside his shop anything more than a possible customer. Shouldnât look her way again until after his lunch break. But he couldnât help it. He was only a man, after all. A lonely, horny, increasingly guilt-ridden man. He had to look again.
This time, when he darted a glance the blondeâs way, sheâd grabbed a water bottle from her car and was uncapping it.
Good. Drink it , he mentally ordered her. You need the hydration in this heat .
Instead, she raised the bottle above her head and poured it all over herself. The water streamed past her hair, down onto her shoulders, and all over the fabric covering her lovely tits.
Suddenly, he was witnessing a one-woman wet T-shirt contest. One that, as far as he was concerned, sheâd have won even with hundreds of other entrants.
Fuck. Fuck . This needed to end. Before she made him forget every vow heâd ever made.
He put down his sandwich and strode to the front of the shop. Flipping the lock, he yanked open the door.
âYou can come in, but make it quick.â His voice emerged like gravel from his throat, combined irritation and arousal lowering it to a near growl.
He held the door open for her, and she swept past him with a murmured thanks. No doubt her smile was also meant to convey gratitude. Instead, it exuded determination and the satisfaction of a job well done.
Sheâd give any man a run for his money. He could tell already.
Her shoulder brushed against his chest as she passed by, the dampness of it matching the state of his jersey. Heat arced between them in that tiny bit of contact, lifting the hairs at the back of his neck and tightening every muscle in his body.
Her eyesâa cloudy, gorgeous blue-gray, he now sawâflew up to his, the endearing smugness in them disappearing. Her lips parted, but she didnât say anything. He
But in the past few minutes, her feigned discomfort had become real. Somewhere around the time heâd heard a muffled âOw!â and seen her slap at her arm, sheâd stopped performing. Now, when she wasnât watching the storefront, she kept plucking her clothing away from her body and glaring up at the sun. She wasnât even bothering to yell about the heat anymore.
She also wasnât moving an inch. For that, she had his grudging respect.
It was fucking hot outside, as he knew from his ride. And standing in the fiery stillness of a July day, she was melting. Even from a distance, he could see perspiration dotting her face and neck. Her lime-green T-shirt was damp and sticking to her small breasts, while her sweat-spotted khaki shorts clung faithfully to the ample curves of her tummy, hips, and ass.
In the art history class heâd taken almost twenty years ago, heâd seen images of women like her. Well, not exactly. She was kind of a shrimp. But add another few inches to her stature, and sheâd have made a perfect model for Rubens. Round and inviting. Exactly the sort of woman heâd always admired, though Brianna hadnât looked at all likeâ
No. He wouldnât think of his ex. She hadnât broken his heart, after all. Just damaged his pride, stripped him of his best friend, and spurred him to reevaluate his life. And during that reevaluation, heâd come to the conclusion that he didnât need another woman right now. Not while he was still moving past the last one. Not while he was still trying to build a business and a life for himself in a new community.
So he shouldnât consider this random, sweaty woman outside his shop anything more than a possible customer. Shouldnât look her way again until after his lunch break. But he couldnât help it. He was only a man, after all. A lonely, horny, increasingly guilt-ridden man. He had to look again.
This time, when he darted a glance the blondeâs way, sheâd grabbed a water bottle from her car and was uncapping it.
Good. Drink it , he mentally ordered her. You need the hydration in this heat .
Instead, she raised the bottle above her head and poured it all over herself. The water streamed past her hair, down onto her shoulders, and all over the fabric covering her lovely tits.
Suddenly, he was witnessing a one-woman wet T-shirt contest. One that, as far as he was concerned, sheâd have won even with hundreds of other entrants.
Fuck. Fuck . This needed to end. Before she made him forget every vow heâd ever made.
He put down his sandwich and strode to the front of the shop. Flipping the lock, he yanked open the door.
âYou can come in, but make it quick.â His voice emerged like gravel from his throat, combined irritation and arousal lowering it to a near growl.
He held the door open for her, and she swept past him with a murmured thanks. No doubt her smile was also meant to convey gratitude. Instead, it exuded determination and the satisfaction of a job well done.
Sheâd give any man a run for his money. He could tell already.
Her shoulder brushed against his chest as she passed by, the dampness of it matching the state of his jersey. Heat arced between them in that tiny bit of contact, lifting the hairs at the back of his neck and tightening every muscle in his body.
Her eyesâa cloudy, gorgeous blue-gray, he now sawâflew up to his, the endearing smugness in them disappearing. Her lips parted, but she didnât say anything. He
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