Read Online A Love for All Seasons by Bettye Griffin - Free Book Online Page B

rings; and Charlene’s ring finger was bare. Apparently Charlene’s friend wanted to fix her up with someone.
    â€œI’m meeting a specific young lady,” he clarified, the corners of his eyes crinkling in amusement.
    â€œOh, that’s too bad.”
    â€œWill you forget about it already, Andrea?” Charlene hissed.
    â€œListen, you can’t spend your life waiting around for Reggie to get off his butt. Your biological clock isn’t just ticking, it’s about to blow up.”
    â€œReggie and I are doing just fine.”
    â€œSo what are you doing out with me on a Saturday night, having Merlot and lobster bisque? You called, all upset because you think Reggie’s up to something and you don’t know what it is. I say there are plenty of other fish in the sea. You wait and see, this man’s date won’t look half as good as you do, Charlene. If you wouldn’t be so shy you could probably make him forget all about her.”
    Although they spoke reasonably softly, in trying to be heard over the sound of the television poised over the bar their voices carried, which didn’t allow Jack to make out everything they said, but he could follow the gist of their conversation. He found Andrea’s comment about his date not looking half as good as Charlene particularly humorous. I wouldn’t bet on it , he thought. Charlene was certainly attractive, and he’d never shied away from dating women slightly older than himself. Under different circumstances he might take the bait. But make him forget Alicia? Not a chance.
    Â 
    He’d almost finished his drink when his peripheral vision saw movement on the left. He looked up to see the maître d’ leading Alicia to where he sat.
    He quickly got to his feet. “Miss Timberlake, sir,” the maître d’ announced with a flourish. “Your table is ready. I’ll have someone bring you to it when you’re ready.” He then bowed stiffly and turned to leave.
    Jack had a vague awareness of the maître d’ approaching and saying something. As far as he was concerned, the heavyset gent might as well have been both invisible and silent. He had eyes only for the figure behind him.
    For a moment all he could do was simply drink her in. She wore an open, belted white wool coat with a berry-colored scarf draped over her neck and a black pantsuit with a tailored double-breasted blazer. The starkness of the black-and-white ensemble was relieved by lips painted the same berry color as her scarf, lips he knew would taste sweet as strawberries in June. He wanted to savor them with his tongue and nibble at their fullness.
    Blood rushed to his groin. No, Jack , he told himself. What you need is to forget about what you want, at least for right now .
    She stood silently as his eyes roamed over her with obvious approval. Finally she broke into a shy smile. “Hello, Jack.”
    He took her hand in both of his, raised it parallel to his mouth and kissed the back of it, his eyes never leaving hers. “I think that’s the first time you ever said my real name,” he said as he lowered her hand, continuing to hold it.
    â€œMy inclination would be to walk in and say, ‘Hiya, Dev,’ but somehow it didn’t suit the mood,” she said honestly.
    That told him that she, too, felt the sparks in the air between them. He stroked the back of her hand with the pad of his thumb. “I’m glad you could make it.”
    â€œI hope you weren’t waiting long.”
    He loved the sound of her voice, all husky and low. Much as he hated to, he let go of her hand. “Not long,” he said easily. In his heart he knew he would have sat there for hours, just to get a glimpse of her. “We should get our table.” He noticed the eyes of Andrea and Charlene fixed on them. Neither woman moved to try to make their staring more subtle. If anything, he thought their mouths might drop into