The Reconstruction of Carla Millhouse Read Online Free Page B

them more spectacular. When he looked directly at her, they nearly took her breath away.
    “Give me your hand,” he said.
    Carla gave him both and with a mighty tug he finally hauled her to her feet.
    “Let’s go sit down over here,” he said, as he led her to an empty wooden bench nearby.
    “I’m so sorry,” Carla said, feeling like an idiot, tears of mortification filling her doe eyes and her sweet, round face now flushed.
    “It’s okay.” He said. “We both survived.”
    “Not really. I feel so…so incredibly clumsy. You go out of your way to save me from being splat on the wall and I nearly yank both your arms out—not to add, making a scene that rivaled Abbott and Costello.”
    He held up his hands and gave her an adorable crooked little smile. “I needed a good laugh. My name is Richard Stein.”
    “Klutzy Carla Millhouse.” They shook hands.
    Carla got nice vibes from this man, liking him instantly. He was quite tall, a little over six feet she’d guessed, with high cheek bones covered by taut olive-toned skin giving him an exotic Mediterranean look. Okay, Antonio Banderas, he wasn’t, but if she was in the market—which she wasn’t—she wouldn’t put a bag over his head in bed. His striking green eyes were warm and yet filled with impish mirth. Sitting there, she had to tilt her head back to look up at his face. He didn’t have a pumped body like Joey, but looked fit probably from working out at the gym often. And his chest had felt hard against hers. The rest of his physique looked well-proportioned, as well.
    The guy was definitely attractive in an understated way. Carla noticed his dark-brown colored hair had specs of silver at the sides. He seemed to smile easily and often with full, soft, sensual looking lips. His teeth, even and white, contrasted pleasingly with his olive skin. The deep cleft in his chin matched the cute dimples in his cheeks.
    Suddenly, Carla had this desire to reach over and grab this guy’s face and kiss those tempting lips. When she realized what she was thinking, she gave herself a mental slap. A quick glance at the gold band on her finger helped remind her she was off the playing field.
    “Would you like to go get some coffee?” Richard asked. He had a deep voice that sent a little shiver through her, heaping on more guilty thoughts.
    “I’m…married,” Carla blurted out in reaction to those very sinful unmarried thoughts.
    A slow infectious grin crept across his face like an early morning sunrise. “It’s only a cup of coffee, not a date.”
    Oh, boy, did he read my mind? How embarrassing. Then as it dawned on her they were only thoughts, not deeds, her anger over Martin’s infidelity resurfaced like pond scum. “You’re so right!” she erupted. “Sharing a cup of coffee with another man is a helluva lot more innocent than what my husband’s been doing lately,” she muttered, startling Richard.
    “Ouch!”
    Carla flushed crimson. What was wrong with her? “Sorry. I didn’t mean to blurt that out, but I’d love to have coffee with you, Richard. Only, I insist on paying as a small token of thanks for saving my life.”
    “It wasn’t as dramatic as that.”
    “Depends on from whose point of view you’re looking,” Carla replied quickly.
    “It’s probably none of my business, but it sounds as if you need to talk.”
    “Only if you’re not a divorce lawyer,” she quipped.
    He chuckled. “Close, but no cigar. I’m a corporate lawyer.”
    After changing out of their gym clothes, they had coffee in a small Internet café nearby called “Call Me”. People with laptops sat at round tables as they sipped their coffees and lattes. It would be Carla’s last latte for a very, very long time. As if the tangible guilt of indulging and having a drink dripping in calories wasn’t enough, she began to fear she’d been impulsive and had second thoughts about being with this total stranger.
    And yet, there was something about Richard that put her at