American library books » Other » Stef Ann Holm by Lucy Back (best fantasy books to read .txt) 📕

Read book online «Stef Ann Holm by Lucy Back (best fantasy books to read .txt) 📕».   Author   -   Lucy Back



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was a project of sorts for her. Maybe eyeing competition in a town of three thousand just came naturally, she wasn’t sure. Most of the time, she pegged a tourist right off the bat, and she’d swear that’s what this woman was.

They walked past the cash register. Drew’s nose was in the current copy of Wood River County Homes and Land magazine, a passing interest of his. He’d been talking about buying investment properties. She’d shown him a few things, but so far he hadn’t done anything.

The little boy, maybe eleven or twelve—Jacquie couldn’t be sure—looked intently at Drew. She’d never had kids and was no expert at figuring out how old they were, nor did she really care. The whole thought of kids… That subject was a bit touchy for her, anyway.

“Hey, mister, is that a Los Angeles Dodgers World Series cap?” he asked.

Drew tossed the magazine on the counter and turned. “Now, how’d you know that?”

“I seen the team emblem.” He pointed. “Right there.”

Taking off the hat, which was faded at the band by sweat, Drew held it out. “You want to see it?”

“Yeah!” The kid examined the hat every which way from Sunday, then hesitated, his hands shaking.

“You want to try it on?”

“Yes, sir!”

“G’ahead.”

The kid put the hat on, turned to his mother and beamed. “Mom, it’s a World Series hat.”

“I see that.”

Jacquie’s attention refocused on the woman. She was very attractive, tall and with generous C-cup breasts. A natural beauty, something that had always eluded Jacquie, who relied on cosmetics to bring out the best of her features. This woman looked as if she only wore a tinted moisturizer, blackest-black mascara and champagne-colored lip gloss. Dangling silver earrings swept through her long hair when she turned her head.

The front of her coat was open. Her clothes weren’t the latest style, but she carried them well for her body type, which was a cross between curvaceous and slender. A soft-stretch brown shirt with a V-neck and lower-rise jeans made her seem younger than she might have been. Jacquie could usually peg a woman’s age. She wasn’t sure now. Early forties?

“How’d you get this hat?” the boy was asking Drew, whose gaze had somehow gotten tangled up with the mother’s.

A quickening fanned through Jacquie. She never got used to when this happened; it cut every time. Drew wasn’t exactly a flirt; he didn’t have to extend the effort. Women came to him. He liked the attention, but he wasn’t a man-whore. He didn’t sleep around, or at least not that she knew about, but his gaze had strayed on more than one occasion. Seeing him look at this woman, Jacquie didn’t like the feelings erupting in her heart.

They went beyond jealousy. It was a primal fear. A deep and achy feeling that panicked her.

This was more than casual interest from Drew. And it was probably the first time Jacquie had seen him look at another woman like this.

His eyes grew hooded, sort of like that alpha-male dominant thing. The body language on him changed. He folded his arms, his chest grew broader, his smile seemed whiter and more disarming. The usual ease with which he carried himself appeared forced to her, as if he’d noticed something in this woman that he wanted to… Jacquie didn’t know. Impress? Which was asinine, because Drew Tolman wanted to impress everyone.

“I got it when I played in the World Series.”

“Oh wow—really?” The kid whooshed the words together, his mouth dropping open.

“Yep.”

“What’s your name?” The older one spoke up.

“Andrew Tolman.”

The taller of the two boys was now interested. “You used to play for the Dodgers.”

“Yes, I did.”

“Awesome.” The little boy looked up. “Mom, he’s a real baseball player.”

“Retired now,” Drew said, just as Opal came toward them with the brown bag of biscuits, grease spots dotting the outside.

“Here are you go, Drew. I won’t charge you for them since they’re going to Ada, and she’s going to kill me, anyhow. No point in taking money for my death.”

Drew laughed, the sound rich and deep. “Thanks, Opal.” Then to the boys, he said, “Do you both play baseball?”

“Yes, sir,” the youngest said.

“Yeah, I played it in high school,” the older one added.

“You on any leagues?”

“I was back home,” the littler one declared.

“What’s your name?” Drew asked.

“Matt. And that’s my big brother, Jason.” The younger boy took the woman’s hand, brought her forward.

Jacquie watched carefully, making a fast mental note. She was a fairly good reader of people, since she worked closely with them on real estate transactions. She could pretty much ferret out most any situation. In this case, divorce. No question. The younger one wanted to be Mom’s Helper, the man of the family. Jacquie couldn’t quite peg the older boy. He had the look of a rebel in his eyes.

“And this is my mom,” Matt stated.

Drew extended his hand. “Hi, Mom.”

The woman blushed; Jacquie clenched her teeth.

“I’m Lucy. Lucy Carpenter.” She took Drew’s hand, gave it a polite shake, then retreated a step to stand with her sons. “We just moved here.”

Just moved here. The information caused Jacquie’s heart to miss a beat. This was no tourist. She was in town for the duration.

Shaking off a feeling of dread, Jacquie went on autopilot, took her card out of her purse and thrust her arm out. “I’m Jacquie Santini of Realty Professionals. If you need any assistance with anything, please don’t hesitate to call me.”

Lucy accepted the card. “That’s a nice photo.”

“Thank you.” Jacquie felt guarded. She knew she wasn’t all that photogenic, but the cards were top-notch. She’d spent a bundle on them.

Matt gave Drew his hat back. “Thanks.”

“Sure thing.” Drew settled the baseball cap on his head once more. “You guys need to try out for Little League. We’re drafting players for teams next Wednesday.”

He might have been talking to the boys, but his eyes were on Lucy.

Suddenly, Jacquie wasn’t in the mood for sex anymore. She felt cheap for even trying to manipulate it. The biting heat of tears threatened,

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