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Southern Comforts

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Год написания книги
2019
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Cheryl shoved her pale hair back into her bun. She shot a guilty look at Abby before turning back to the boy. “You promised to stay put.”

“It was my fault. Josh kept me company while I ate, but I should have made sure you knew where he was.”

“I told you this afternoon, Josh is no problem,” Abby added. She didn’t mind the boy hanging around the B and B.

Cheryl twisted her hands together. “I don’t...”

“He’s okay with us.” Abby glanced over at Gray. “I mean...me.”

“Marion only needs me for another hour.” The young woman covered her mouth with one hand. Her fingernails were chewed to the quick.

“I’m okay, Mommy. You want a picture?” Josh pulled out a sketch pad and a mammoth box of crayons.

“Where did you get those?” Cheryl’s mouth fell open.

“I saw them at the store,” Gray mumbled.

Abby was surprised to see color brightening Gray’s cheek. She hadn’t thought anything could embarrass him.

“I remembered to say thank you,” Josh piped in.

Why did Gray have to be so sweet? Abby was trying to resist the man. She moved over to Cheryl, catching her hands so she wouldn’t twist them anymore.

“He’s okay with me.” Abby lowered her voice. “If he gets tired, I’ll tuck him in on the sofa.” She waved over to the sitting area.

“Thank you.” Cheryl nodded to Gray and then touched Abby’s arm. “For everything.”

Abby squeezed Cheryl’s fingers. “No problem.”

After Cheryl went back up to the ballroom, the small group sat in a comfortable silence. Abby closed her eyes. Michael hummed as he cleaned. A dishwasher rattled. Josh’s crayons scratched against the paper and then stopped. From across the table, she could smell Gray’s cologne.

The table jostled, and Abby pried her eyes open.

Gray was lifting Josh up. “He fell asleep, like someone flipped a switch.”

He settled the child on the sofa, tucking a throw around him. When he came back to the table, he asked, “Is Josh here whenever Cheryl works?”

“Mmm-hmm.” She could barely keep her eyes open.

“Do something for me.”

She tipped her face up. “What?”

“Make sure they’re eating. Put it on my tab.”

“I’m not charging you.” Abby clenched her jaw. “Cheryl’s my employee.” She took care of her own.

“But...”

She waved a hand in the air, wanting him to stop talking and let her rest.

“I want you to let me pay.”

“No,” she mumbled.

He grunted. The table rocked as he sat back down.

She closed her eyes again. Bliss. A few minutes of rest and she’d be able to go a couple more hours.

Gray tapped her hand. “You need to tell me what I should do if you fall asleep. I don’t want to get in trouble like yesterday.”

The heat of his fingers warmed her whole body. She smiled without opening her eyes. “If my head drops to the table, kick me.”

“Maybe what you need is to get out of the kitchen,” he said. “When do you get a day off?”

“Tomorrow,” she mumbled.

“Let’s eat out tomorrow night.”

Eat out? He was hitting on her. Again. “Gray, don’t.”

“We eat together all the time. Let me take you out for a change.”

She sat up and pulled her hand away from his. “I don’t date guests.”

“Who said anything about dating? I said dinner. I’d like to thank you for the gourmet meals you’ve served me.” His blue eyes held hers. “Think of it as an olive branch for the mess I made of your day yesterday. One more way to say sorry.”

She frowned.

“It’s just dinner,” he coaxed.

“I guess.” She nodded slowly. “Not a date.”

His gaze stayed on her mouth.

The memory of his kiss made her breath catch in her chest.

“Great.” He blinked, breaking the spell between them. “I’ll come down later and grab a cognac. There’s a basketball game I want to watch.”

He headed out the swinging door, and the kitchen seemed empty without him.

Her breath came out in a whoosh. Why had she agreed to go to dinner? It had to be exhaustion and his darn blue eyes. And the sweet way he treated Josh. Even so, this dinner was bound to be a mistake.

The monotonous chore of loading dishes didn’t take her mind off Gray. Saying good-night to Cheryl and Josh only made her remember how kind Gray had been to the little boy. He had such an easy way of chatting with guests. They had such lovely conversations, and he filled his jeans out... Whoops. Not going to think about that.

“Need anything else?” Michael asked, wiping down the stove.

“No. I think we’re done. Thanks.”
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