Unbuttoned Read Online Free Page B

Carly,” a smiling waitress said as she approached the table. “The usual?”
    Carly smiled. “Yes, thank you.”
    “And, uh . . . for your friend?”
    “Just a burger is fine,” he said.
    “I’ll have it up in a second,” she said, casting Carly a long, questioning look that Carly very purposefully ignored.
    “Now the rumor mill will get going,” she muttered.
    “Why? Because we’re having lunch together? Almost everyone knows who I am. They know we’re family friends.”
    “Is that what we are?” she asked. “Family friends?”
    “I suppose so. But friends might be a strong word for it.” He studied her face, the hard lines, the exhaustion. She tried so hard to be perfect he was afraid one of these days it would break her. “It didn’t used to be though.”
    “Things change, Lucas.”
    “What changed, Carly?”
    She let out an exasperated breath. “Does it matter?”
    “I think you’re the only one who knows that.”
    “Just leave it.” She pulled her computer out of her bag and opened it, typing for a moment and then looking back up at him, her composure so firmly in place it was laughable. He had to wonder if she ever lost control. “All right, let’s talk charity. I think we can do that without bickering.”
    And they managed, keeping the topic to the Ride for Hope events, until their food arrived.
    “Grilled chicken salad with dressing on the side,” the waitress said, putting a plate in front of Carly. “And a burger,” she finished, setting Lucas’s lunch in front of him. “Holler if you need anything.”
    “Thank you,” Carly said. She dipped her fork into the dressing and started flicking it over the lettuce leaves. She was so meticulous in everything she did. Every movement a practiced routine. She was tied up so tightly inside that even eating a salad was a ritual. He’d never seen anything like it.
    He picked his burger up, in defiance of her restraint, and took a bite. He noticed that while she ate her salad, she kept her eyes pinned to his french fries.
    “Do you want one?” he asked. She looked at him like he’d just asked her to come to the Dark Side.
    “I shouldn’t.”
    “Do you ever do anything you shouldn’t do?”
    She frowned. “No.” Her denial was followed by another bite of salad.
    “Doesn’t that get boring?”
    “It’s not boring. It’s stable. I had all the unstable I could get growing up. There’s a reason for restraint, you know. A reason for . . . behaving a certain way.”
    “So you always behave?” he asked.
    “Yes. Always. I’m a representative of the people of Silver Creek. I can do nothing less.”
    “You’re twenty-four years old, Carly. This much self-control can’t be healthy.”
    “The lack of it certainly isn’t healthy, I don’t care what age you are,” she said. “Look at our parents for your example.”
    “Granted”—he picked up one of his french fries—“but eating a little fried food is hardly equivalent to being an alcoholic.”
    “Slippery slope,” she said, eyeing the offered treat.
    “Come on, Carly,” he said. “Eat a fry. Live dangerously.”
    “You’re such a pain,” she said, taking the french fry from him and making quick work of it.
    “Do you regret it?” he asked.
    “No,” she said around a mouthful of potato.
    “See? The world didn’t even cave in. Living dangerously didn’t hurt you at all.”
    “One french fry isn’t going to entice me to change the way I live.”
    “That would be pretty ambitious for a french fry.” She snort-laughed again, turning her focus back to her salad. “Is that why I bother you, Carly?”
    Her head snapped up, blue eyes meeting his. “What?”
    “That I don’t play by the rules of what’s safe to you?”
    Her forehead crinkled, eyebrows drawing together. “You think I’m jealous of you, is that it?”
    “Well, is it?”
    “Am I jealous of you, Lucas Miller, who changes women like most people change their socks? I am in no way jealous of