Read Online Reunion in October (The Calendar Girls Book 2) by Gina Ardito - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Gina Ardito
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serenity. Serenity and solitude. Josh Candolero was the antithesis of serenity and solitude.
Whirrrrrr! Screeeeech!
Ah, no place like home. On a sigh, I pushed myself into my house and headed for the kitchen. Maybe a nice cup of flavored herbal tea would lull me to sleep, despite the ruckus behind me. In my kitchen, I picked up my tea kettle and flipped the tap on my faucet. As I filled the kettle with water, I glanced up and out the window.
What exactly were the McNeills doing to their house now? The roof was ripped off, and bare wooden beams pierced the sky. A dormer. Of course. Decades ago, Snug Harbor had been a summer haven, and most of those original homes were built as bungalows or Cape Cod-style. Whenever families moved into these teeny houses, they blew them up and out with expanded second stories, additions, or converted garages. Sometimes all three.
At the McNeills’ house, a dozen men strode across the skeleton that would eventually become the family’s second floor. The tool belts dangling from their hips, hard hats perched on their heads, and sweat-soaked muscle shirts reminded me of Josh.
As if my crazy thoughts had conjured him from thin air, he suddenly appeared on the roof. He must have sensed I watched him because he shielded his face from the morning sun with the back of his hand and flashed a dazzling smile in my direction.
The tea kettle fell from my hand and clattered against the sink’s edge. I dropped my gaze from the window, picked up the kettle and found a new chip in the taupe porcelain of the basin. “Dammit!” I slammed the kettle onto the stovetop and flipped the burner to high.
Seconds later, my cell phone jingled from my purse in the living room. Crap on a cracker, when would it end? Leaving the water to boil at its own pace, I strode to the couch to dig out my phone. I was so frazzled, I didn’t even bother to look at the Caller I.D., just hit the connect button and slammed the phone to my ear. “Hello?”
“Rough night?”
I tiptoed back toward my kitchen and peeked out the window. Sure enough, Josh stood on the McNeills’ roof, one hand holding a cell phone cupped to his ear. Frustration seeped away, and a smile twitched my lips. “You could say that. And then to top it off, I came home to a big construction project going on at the house behind me.”
“The nerve of some people,” he exclaimed in mock horror. “Get some sleep, Frannie. I’ve got big plans for you tonight.”
A rush of heat washed over me. Plans? What kind of plans? A hard, dry lump rose in my throat. “I…” I couldn’t speak.
“I could come over and tuck you in, if you think it’ll help.”
Now there was a visual I could have done without. The image of Josh in my bedroom, leaning over me, swept through my psyche, and my knees weakened to globs of jelly. This man-boy could mean serious trouble to my carefully constructed façade. Like living on nothing but ice cream sundaes, the idea of Josh and me as a couple seemed fun—a laugh a minute. In reality, though, a constant diet of ice cream sundaes wasn’t fun or good for me. Josh: cute, fun-loving, laugh-a-minute Josh was my never-ending ice cream sundae.
Stiffening my spine, I replied, “I’ve got a better idea. Quit wasting time over there and finish the day’s work so I can at least get a nap before tonight. Otherwise, I might have to cancel our dinner date.”
“I’ll hang up,” he blurted. “And I’ll tell the guys to turn down the boom box, too.”
I stifled my laughter. “That’s very considerate of you, Josh. Thank you.”
“Pick you up at seven?”
I should say no. My conscience jabbed me to say no. The ice cream-loving girl in me urged for a different reply. After all, no one said I had to kick ice cream cold turkey.
“I’ll be ready,” I said.
For anything.
Chapter 6
Emily
I pulled into my driveway at eight-thirty and sat in the driver’s seat, engine off, keys still dangling from the ignition.
Whirrrrrr! Screeeeech!
Ah, no place like home. On a sigh, I pushed myself into my house and headed for the kitchen. Maybe a nice cup of flavored herbal tea would lull me to sleep, despite the ruckus behind me. In my kitchen, I picked up my tea kettle and flipped the tap on my faucet. As I filled the kettle with water, I glanced up and out the window.
What exactly were the McNeills doing to their house now? The roof was ripped off, and bare wooden beams pierced the sky. A dormer. Of course. Decades ago, Snug Harbor had been a summer haven, and most of those original homes were built as bungalows or Cape Cod-style. Whenever families moved into these teeny houses, they blew them up and out with expanded second stories, additions, or converted garages. Sometimes all three.
At the McNeills’ house, a dozen men strode across the skeleton that would eventually become the family’s second floor. The tool belts dangling from their hips, hard hats perched on their heads, and sweat-soaked muscle shirts reminded me of Josh.
As if my crazy thoughts had conjured him from thin air, he suddenly appeared on the roof. He must have sensed I watched him because he shielded his face from the morning sun with the back of his hand and flashed a dazzling smile in my direction.
The tea kettle fell from my hand and clattered against the sink’s edge. I dropped my gaze from the window, picked up the kettle and found a new chip in the taupe porcelain of the basin. “Dammit!” I slammed the kettle onto the stovetop and flipped the burner to high.
Seconds later, my cell phone jingled from my purse in the living room. Crap on a cracker, when would it end? Leaving the water to boil at its own pace, I strode to the couch to dig out my phone. I was so frazzled, I didn’t even bother to look at the Caller I.D., just hit the connect button and slammed the phone to my ear. “Hello?”
“Rough night?”
I tiptoed back toward my kitchen and peeked out the window. Sure enough, Josh stood on the McNeills’ roof, one hand holding a cell phone cupped to his ear. Frustration seeped away, and a smile twitched my lips. “You could say that. And then to top it off, I came home to a big construction project going on at the house behind me.”
“The nerve of some people,” he exclaimed in mock horror. “Get some sleep, Frannie. I’ve got big plans for you tonight.”
A rush of heat washed over me. Plans? What kind of plans? A hard, dry lump rose in my throat. “I…” I couldn’t speak.
“I could come over and tuck you in, if you think it’ll help.”
Now there was a visual I could have done without. The image of Josh in my bedroom, leaning over me, swept through my psyche, and my knees weakened to globs of jelly. This man-boy could mean serious trouble to my carefully constructed façade. Like living on nothing but ice cream sundaes, the idea of Josh and me as a couple seemed fun—a laugh a minute. In reality, though, a constant diet of ice cream sundaes wasn’t fun or good for me. Josh: cute, fun-loving, laugh-a-minute Josh was my never-ending ice cream sundae.
Stiffening my spine, I replied, “I’ve got a better idea. Quit wasting time over there and finish the day’s work so I can at least get a nap before tonight. Otherwise, I might have to cancel our dinner date.”
“I’ll hang up,” he blurted. “And I’ll tell the guys to turn down the boom box, too.”
I stifled my laughter. “That’s very considerate of you, Josh. Thank you.”
“Pick you up at seven?”
I should say no. My conscience jabbed me to say no. The ice cream-loving girl in me urged for a different reply. After all, no one said I had to kick ice cream cold turkey.
“I’ll be ready,” I said.
For anything.
Chapter 6
Emily
I pulled into my driveway at eight-thirty and sat in the driver’s seat, engine off, keys still dangling from the ignition.
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