The MacGregor Grooms Read Online Free Page B

parted company.
    So it was ridiculous for her to keep chasing through his brain, for him to remember exactly the way it had felt to hold her, to smell her, to watch her eyes go soft and dreamy in the dance.
    It was her face, that was all. He was intrigued by it. In an artistic sense, of course.
    So he went to the gym early and spent a couple hours trying to sweat out the restlessness. He told himself he felt better, more alert, more clearheaded. By the time he got back to his apartment, he was ready for that big breakfast.
    He turned the stereo up to blast, pushed up the sleeves of his black sweatshirt, then put bacon on to fry. Feeling a great deal more cheerful and in control, he sang along with John Fogerty and mixed eggs for scrambling.
    When the phone rang, he answered one-handed as he scooped crisp bacon out of the pan.
    “So, you’re up and about,” Daniel boomed out at him. “Turn that music down, boy. You’ll have no hearing left.”
    “Hold on.”
    D.C. spent a few seconds looking for the remote control—he could never find the damn thing when he needed it—then jogged into the living area to turn down the music manually. On his way back through the kitchen, he snagged a piece of bacon.
    “Yeah, I’m up and about,” he said into the phone. “I’ve already been to the gym and I’m about to clog my arteries.”
    “Bacon and eggs?” Daniel sighed wistfully. “I remember when I used to sit down to a Sunday breakfast like that. Your grandmother, she’s so strict. Frets about my cholesterol, so I’m lucky if I’m allowed to look at a picture of bacon these days.”
    “I’m eating some now.” With a wicked grin, D.C. crunched, loud and deliberate. “Fabulous.”
    “You’re a sadistic young man.” Daniel sighed again. “And to think I called you up to thank you for doing me such a favor. Now I hope you had a miserable evening entertaining Myra’s goddaughter.”
    “I got through it.”
    “Well, I appreciate it. I know you’ve better things to do with your time. Not that she’s not a sweet-enough girl, but just not the type who’d interest you. We’re looking for a livelier lass for you.”
    D.C. frowned at what was left of his slice of bacon. “I can do my own looking.”
    “Well, why aren’t you? Locked away in that place with your paints and canvases. Hah. Ought to be out romancing some suitable woman. Do you know how your grandmother frets? Picturing you there, by yourself in that stuffy apartment, with all those paint fumes?”
    “Um-hmm.” So accustomed to the lecture he could recite it himself, D.C. grabbed another slice of bacon.
    “It’s a fire trap is what it is, that place you live in. At your age you need a nice house, a good woman, noisy children. But I didn’t call to remind you of a duty you should already have seen to,” Daniel rushed on. “I appreciate what you did. I remember, before I found your grandmother, the evenings I spent cross-eyed with boredom with some girl who didn’t have a single interesting thing to say. What you need is common ground, and a spark. Can’t waste your time with someone without those things. You wouldn’t have them with little Linda.”
    “Layna,” D.C. muttered, irritated for no good reason. “Her name’s Layna.”
    “Oh yes, there you are. Odd name, don’t you think? Well, it’s neither here nor there. It’s done now, and you won’t have to waste any more of your evenings on her. When are you going to come up and see your grandmother? She’s pining for you.”
    “I’ll come visit soon.” Scowling, D.C. tossed the rest of the bacon back on the platter. “What’s wrong with Layna?”
    “Who?” In his office in his fortress in Hyannis Port, Daniel had to cover the mouthpiece on the phone until he was certain he’d controlled the bark of laughter.
    “Layna,” D.C. repeated through his teeth. “What’s wrong with Layna?”
    “Oh, nothing, nothing at all’s wrong with her. Pretty young woman. Fine manners, as I