LEAD ME ON by Julie Ortolon (find a book to read TXT) 📕

Smiling like a loon, he rose to take a shower. There was a practical side to falling in love, he realized, humming to himself. Not the emotions, which were completely impractical, but the logistics. Since they couldn’t be together at the inn, he needed to find another place to stay. He briefly considered the beach house his mother had won in the divorce settlement, but dismissed the idea just as quickly. Even though he fully intended to tell Allison who he was, he doubted she’d be comfortable there—especially since his derelict cousins liked to use the place to throw weekend parties on occasion.

Should he ask her to help him find an apartment, or find one on his own and tell her after the fact? As for asking her outright to move in with him, he had a feeling he’d be wiser to ease her into that idea. She could move her things gradually, one overnight bag at a time.

Which brought him to the last obstacle: the tiny, little matter of telling her he’d been born Scott LeRoche.

He stood for a moment, letting the spray of the shower beat down on his back as he imagined what she’d say. In his mind, he saw her smile and call him silly for worrying as she assured him it didn’t matter.

Yeah, right, buddy, in your dreams.

He’d think about it later, he decided. He had enough to deal with today already since his sister was coming to pick up Chloe. He’d deal with that first, then decide when and how to tell Allison he was the son of the man who was trying to destroy her business, a member of the family she’d hated all her life. She was jittery enough as it was without dropping that bombshell on her. Yes, waiting to tell her was definitely best.

Chapter 23

Allison felt Scott enter the room, like a shift in the air that made her skin tingle. She straightened from pouring a glass of juice for a guest and glanced over her shoulder. He stopped in the doorway, his hands in the pockets of his shorts and a contented smile on his face.

“Morning, Uncle Scott,” Chloe called as she plowed through her breakfast of French toast.

“Morning,” he said to his niece, but his smiling gaze remained fixed on Allison.

Heat rose in her cheeks. “Can I get you coffee?”

“Depends.” He nodded to the nearly full table. “Do you need any help?”

“No. Chance has come down out of the clouds enough to be useful again.”

“In that case, I’d love some coffee.”

While he went to the buffet, Allison turned her attention back to the other guests, encouraging them to chat among themselves, tell where they were from and their plans for the day.

“Do you know, I think the stories about the Good Luck Ghost are true,” one of the new guests, a woman from Dallas, told the others. “I had the most amazing thing happen this morning.”

“Oh?” An older woman from Oklahoma City perked up. “Well, don’t be stingy, honey. Tell. Tell.”

“A year ago, I lost my wedding ring.” The Dallas woman smiled apologetically at her husband. “I thought it had been stolen, since I’d left it in a locker while working out at my club. I’ve looked through everything that was in my gym bag at least a hundred times. Then, this morning, I opened my makeup case, and there it was! Sitting right there winking at me.” She held up her left hand, showing off the ring. “Isn’t that incredible, that it just reappeared like that?”

Her story sparked the usual debate among the guests about the existence of ghosts in general and Marguerite in particular.

Listening with half an ear, Allison poured some juice for Chloe. “So, are you ready for your mother to pick you up today?”

“Yep.” The girl swirled a bite of French toast through a pool of syrup. “Especially since she agreed to take me to all the Zephyrs’ home games if I don’t run away again.”

Scott laughed as he sliced into his pan-fried ham and pineapple. “You are such a little blackmailer.”

“Please, if you don’t mind, I prefer the term ‘opportunist.’ ”

“Yeah, and the pirates of the gulf preferred the term ‘privateer.’ ”

Chloe sighed dramatically, much to the amusement of the other guests. “The true entrepreneurs of every age are always misunderstood.”

“ ‘Entrepreneurs’? ” Scott chuckled. “What have you been doing, reading my thesaurus?”

“Well, if you were a normal guy, like Amy Sutterfield’s dad, you’d keep something interesting in your nightstand, like Playboy magazines instead of dictionaries.”

Everyone laughed as Scott shook his head. “Please, Chloe. There are some things uncles don’t want to know.”

“Try being a father,” one of the men said.

Scott went very still, then slowly raised his gaze to Allison as if considering the idea. Her heart began to pound at the thought of having a child with him. The doctors said she could carry full term, but would she ever have the courage to try for another baby?

“Maybe someday,” Scott said to the other man. “Right now, I’m content to take life a day at a time.”

Allison nodded, realizing the words were a reminder of their new agreement: no holding back, but no rushing things, either.

“Hey, Chance,” Chloe greeted as he came in with a fresh tray for the buffet. “Do you think I could go see the baby before I leave?”

“You bet.” A smile split his face. “I’ll let Aurora know to expect you.”

“Cool.”

“You too, Scott,” Chance added. “Adrian says you were there for most of the big event, so you might as well come see the end result.”

Scott looked a bit startled but pleased by the invitation. “Thanks, I appreciate that.”

As the focus of the room shifted to the proud new father, Allison moved over to Scott on the pretense of refilling his coffee cup. “You don’t have to go if it makes you feel awkward.”

“No, I’d like to see the baby.” The closeness of their bodies