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Loving Leah

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Год написания книги
2019
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“I didn’t mean to scare you,” John said as he finally eased away from her.

“My fault for not paying attention.”

“Well, pay attention to this,” he said in an almost teasing tone that put Leah in mind of years past. “That is the last flat of flowers going on our tab today, unless one of you wants to walk home. The Jeep is now holding all the plants it can hold and still have room to spare for the three of us. Don’t forget we’re going to have to plant all that stuff, too.”

“I know, Daddy, and I’m gonna help. But we want to stop for burgers and fries first, don’t we, Aunt Leah?”

“Trying to take advantage of my good mood, huh?”

“You’re in a good mood today?” Leah couldn’t help but quip as they waited for John to pay for the plants they’d chosen.

John eyed her quizzically for several seconds, apparently giving her question serious consideration.

“Yes,” he admitted at last, a hint of surprise in his voice. “I am.”

“Must be something in the air,” she offered lightly.

“Or maybe the company I’m keeping.” He held her gaze an instant longer, then scooped Gracie into his arms. “Yeah, it has to be this lovely little girl’s company.”

“Oh, Daddy, you’re so funny sometimes.”

He had meant Gracie of course, Leah told herself as they piled into the Jeep and headed for her niece’s favorite fast-food restaurant. But that didn’t stop her heart from beating faster.

Back at the house again, there was a message waiting for John on the answering machine. A problem had come up at the university lab that required his immediate attention.

“So much for leaving the teaching assistants in charge,” he grumbled after explaining the situation to Leah and Gracie.

“No problem,” Leah told him cheerfully for Gracie’s sake. “The really hard work is all done. We shouldn’t have any trouble putting the plants we bought in the beds after we eat, right, sweetie?”

“Right, Aunt Leah,” the little girl agreed happily enough as she peeled the wrapper off her cheeseburger.

“Don’t try to move the heavier containers,” John instructed, already withdrawing from their company as he headed toward the hallway.

Leah had thought, obviously in error, that he didn’t really want to go to the lab.

“At least eat something first,” she urged, waving a hand at the burgers and fries she’d set out on the table.

“I have to take a shower,” he called over his shoulder. “I’ll eat on the way to the lab.”

He was back in the kitchen in fifteen minutes, wearing khaki pants and a black knit T-shirt, looking so handsome that Leah’s heart ached. Then he was out the door with his food in hand, leaving them with a wave. Leah felt a sense of regret as she heard the Jeep’s engine roar to life.

They had been making some fairly decent progress in the getting-to-know-each-other-again department. For the first time since she’d arrived there Sunday night, she’d felt reasonably relaxed in John’s presence, and he’d seemed reasonably relaxed in hers, as well.

Would he put up the wall of resistance between them when they were next together? she wondered. Would he revert to the man she’d come to dread the past couple of days?

Not if she had anything to say about it, she vowed as she dipped a French fry into ketchup, then munched on it contentedly.

“Why are you smiling, Aunt Leah?”

“I’m thinking about how much fun we had this morning, and how lovely the yard looks now. And I’m thinking that if we get everything planted by tomorrow afternoon, we could plan to have a picnic on Friday.”

“Oh, I love picnics!” Gracie said.

“Well, then, let’s clean up this mess and start putting our flowers in their beds.”

“Do you think my dad would like to go with us on the picnic?”

“Maybe,” Leah replied, careful not to get the little girl’s hopes up too high.

John has always loved going on picnics, too, and with luck, he would have the crisis at the lab under control by Friday. After the way he’d behaved today, she wanted to believe he’d make the effort to be with them again, for Gracie’s sake, if nothing else.

Having him along would be fun for her, too, Leah admitted as she and Gracie finished tidying the kitchen. He had definitely begun to mellow toward her. The more fun things she could plan for them to do together, the more likely he was to mellow even more. And that would be such a good thing…for all of them.

Chapter Four

John stood in front of the refrigerator with the door wide-open, the light from its interior the only light in the kitchen at one-thirty in the morning. Methodically he opened first one plastic container, then another as he tried to decide which of the various leftovers from the meals Leah had prepared appealed most to him. There’d been meat loaf Monday night, the spaghetti he’d already sampled Tuesday night, and tonight…ah, yes, this must be it—chicken in some kind of a cream sauce that included chunks of onion, carrot and mushrooms.

Too good to eat cold from the container, he decided, switching on the light over the stove. With a minimum of clatter, he found a plate to put in the microwave oven, transferred a hefty portion of the chicken and vegetables onto it, then stood by the counter and waited for it to heat.

Embarrassing, really, to steal around his own kitchen in the dead of night eating leftovers when he could have sat down at the table earlier with Leah and Gracie like any sensible person. But he’d set the pattern Monday night, and he wasn’t sure how to break it without seeming obvious. Though obvious about what, he didn’t know.

He’d had a perfect right to join Leah and Gracie for dinner each of the preceding evenings. Not that anyone had kept him away except himself. After the time he’d spent with them that morning, he’d wanted to come home much sooner than he actually had.

He’d gotten sidetracked at the university lab, though, coping with first one unanticipated problem and then another as the afternoon wore on. He’d retreated to his office at last, when everything seemed to be under control, only to have his attention diverted again as he’d made an attempt to clear away part of the mountain of paperwork that had accumulated over the past several months.

It had been almost eight by the time he’d noticed the deepening shadows in the corners of his office and glanced at the clock on his desk to check the time. He could have left then, but all the mowing and raking he’d done earlier in the day finally seemed to have caught up with him. Suddenly he’d felt too tired to do more than stretch out on the old sofa he’d installed for just such an occasion. Just for a few minutes, he’d assured himself, only to awaken several hours later, rested and ready to eat.

The scent of Leah’s chicken and vegetables wafted from the microwave oven, making John’s mouth water and his stomach growl. He opened the door before the timer could beep, grabbed the plate and almost dropped it when the hot china burned his fingers. Muttering a curse, he jostled the plate from hand to hand until he could set in on the table, then he dug a knife and fork from the silverware drawer and grabbed an icy cold beer from the refrigerator.

He really had to try to get on a more reasonable schedule, he admonished himself, twisting the cap off the bottle. He’d be lucky to get back to sleep by three, and then, if their pattern continued, Leah and Gracie would be up at six, waking him, as well.

With a groan, half in pleasure at the wonderful taste of the chicken and half in anticipation of yet another bleary-eyed morning to come, John reached for his beer, tipped it back and took a long swallow, then another. A flicker of movement at the doorway to the den caught his eye, startling him.

He jerked with surprise, and the second swallow of beer went down his throat the wrong way. Eyes watering, he started to cough. Several moments passed before he managed to get his breath back. Then, as he wiped the tears from his eyes with the back of his hand, he realized he was no longer alone in the kitchen.

Leah stood in the doorway, a look of concern in her sleepy eyes. Her shiny brown hair was tousled in an enticingly touchable way, and she wore only an oversize black T-shirt with a silver lightning bolt across the front. The garment barely came to midthigh, accentuating her long, slender legs. To John, it looked sexier than any silk-and-satin nightgown might have.

First short denim shorts and a red tank top without benefit of a bra, then a black T-shirt that should have at least covered her knees. She was making him hot for her, hungry for her, in ways he couldn’t afford to be. And she was doing it innocently, without any overt provocation, because she wouldn’t know, couldn’t know from his behavior toward her so far how swiftly her place in his heart was being restored.

Eight years ago John hadn’t realized that with only the slightest shift in his awareness of Leah, his feelings for her would have quickly exceeded the normal bounds of friendship. He was older than she by several years, so he had assumed the role of her protector early on in their relationship and had taken her quiet, steady, faithful companionship not only at face value, but also for granted.

Then, just as he’d begun to realize Leah was no longer a girl, but a vibrant young woman on the verge of adulthood, Caro had come into their lives, so bright and so beautiful. He’d been dazzled by her, too dazzled to see the recklessness and irresponsibility in her nature, and the constant need to be amused, as well as amusing, that were also a part of her personality.

Even though Leah had been only eighteen, she’d actually been the one who embodied all the things he’d really needed. But imperceptive as he’d been at the time, not to mention ruled more by hormones than common sense, he’d wanted only Caro, and much to his later dismay, Caro had been the one he’d gotten.

“Hey, are you okay?” Leah asked, her soft voice filled with concern.

Instead of scurrying away as he’d thought she would, she joined him in the kitchen, obviously unaware or uncaring that she was intruding on his privacy. Considering her behavior the past few days, John would have bet on the latter. She’d toughened up quite a bit over the past eight years, his little Leah. Only, she wasn’t little anymore, and she certainly wasn’t his.
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