Read Online Tennessee Touch, Sisters of Spirit #6 by Nancy Radke - Free Book Online
Authors: Nancy Radke
Ads: Link
Logan’s clothes and started laying them along the bench. Inside out.
“Can I call you back in a few hours? This is just not the right time. Or else you call me back. I won’t have my phone on me for awhile, so might not answer right away.”
Jake was doing all sorts of animated faces.
“Jake is here and thinks he’s a clown and is making it hard to talk.” Logan finally nodded “yes” to get Jake to leave. Which thankfully he did.
Her laugh was delightful. “Why don’t you call me then?”
“Yes. Thank you. In a few hours.”
“Bye.”
“Bye.” He hung up and dressed in record time, slowing down when he put on his socks. They were wet. Jake had dropped them in some ice water, so he had to fish through his bag and get a dry pair he carried, just in case.
Delighted to have heard from her, he went out and played his best game of the season. He’d have to get her to call early on game days more often.
5
Her interpreting work finished for the day, Alison came out into a particularly heavy September shower. A true Seattle dweller, she didn't bother with a rain hat or an umbrella. They were a nuisance to carry around, and if the rain did come down hard, a person just waited a few minutes until it lightened up or quit and then went on about one's business. Or else made a mad dash from building to car like Alison was doing right now, head down, hunched body protecting the book she was carrying, feet splashing through the shallow puddles.
It had been nice and warm and lovely out that morning—clear blue skies—so she hadn't even bothered wearing a coat. But her white cotton blouse and flared apple-green skirt wouldn't be hurt by a little water. And neither would she.
Unlocking her car door and flinging it open, she dove in headfirst, reached out to pull the door shut, and found Logan there, water pouring off him as he held the door open and looked inside.
She jumped. “Oh!”
“Sorry. Didn’t want you to drive away without knowing I was here. Anyplace we can go to talk?”
He was drenched. He must have waited for her in the parking lot, standing in the rain. His dark hair, plastered down, was dripping wet; raindrops still clinging to his face and hands. No coat or hat, and his clinging wet polo shirt revealed the depth of muscle tone she had only guessed at before.
It had been two weeks since she had seen him, two days since they had last spoken on the phone. He hadn’t mentioned coming to Seattle.
“The teacher’s lounge.” She thought about walking with him through the halls, still full of students, past some of the boys she saw every day, and decided against it. “No. Let’s go to another restaurant. A fast food place.”
“Okay.”
“I’ll follow you.”
“I sent my cab away. Didn’t know how long it would take.” He pulled out his cell phone. “You’ll have to wait.”
“Shut the door and get in,” she said. “We can talk in here.”
He nodded, closed her door and sprinted around to the other side. He was getting wetter, if possible, by the second.
Her door was still locked on that side and it took a second for her to realize that and click the switch, another second to toss her book onto the back seat and pull her purse over on her lap. Her purse with the Mace in it.
He dropped in beside her. “Thanks. I hoped you weren’t going to leave me out there.”
“A little rain won’t hurt you.”
“No. But that rain is not lit...tle.” He stopped speaking, looked out the window. The rain had stopped. He tossed his wet head sharply to fling away the droplets still running down his face. “I guess it was a little rain.”
He was fogging up the interior and she turned on the engine, then the defrost and heater. She turned the air on high.
“I’d just as soon not stay here in the parking lot,” she said, “since there are lots of curious young men who will entertain themselves with remarks about you for the rest of the school year.”
“Anywhere you want to
“Can I call you back in a few hours? This is just not the right time. Or else you call me back. I won’t have my phone on me for awhile, so might not answer right away.”
Jake was doing all sorts of animated faces.
“Jake is here and thinks he’s a clown and is making it hard to talk.” Logan finally nodded “yes” to get Jake to leave. Which thankfully he did.
Her laugh was delightful. “Why don’t you call me then?”
“Yes. Thank you. In a few hours.”
“Bye.”
“Bye.” He hung up and dressed in record time, slowing down when he put on his socks. They were wet. Jake had dropped them in some ice water, so he had to fish through his bag and get a dry pair he carried, just in case.
Delighted to have heard from her, he went out and played his best game of the season. He’d have to get her to call early on game days more often.
5
Her interpreting work finished for the day, Alison came out into a particularly heavy September shower. A true Seattle dweller, she didn't bother with a rain hat or an umbrella. They were a nuisance to carry around, and if the rain did come down hard, a person just waited a few minutes until it lightened up or quit and then went on about one's business. Or else made a mad dash from building to car like Alison was doing right now, head down, hunched body protecting the book she was carrying, feet splashing through the shallow puddles.
It had been nice and warm and lovely out that morning—clear blue skies—so she hadn't even bothered wearing a coat. But her white cotton blouse and flared apple-green skirt wouldn't be hurt by a little water. And neither would she.
Unlocking her car door and flinging it open, she dove in headfirst, reached out to pull the door shut, and found Logan there, water pouring off him as he held the door open and looked inside.
She jumped. “Oh!”
“Sorry. Didn’t want you to drive away without knowing I was here. Anyplace we can go to talk?”
He was drenched. He must have waited for her in the parking lot, standing in the rain. His dark hair, plastered down, was dripping wet; raindrops still clinging to his face and hands. No coat or hat, and his clinging wet polo shirt revealed the depth of muscle tone she had only guessed at before.
It had been two weeks since she had seen him, two days since they had last spoken on the phone. He hadn’t mentioned coming to Seattle.
“The teacher’s lounge.” She thought about walking with him through the halls, still full of students, past some of the boys she saw every day, and decided against it. “No. Let’s go to another restaurant. A fast food place.”
“Okay.”
“I’ll follow you.”
“I sent my cab away. Didn’t know how long it would take.” He pulled out his cell phone. “You’ll have to wait.”
“Shut the door and get in,” she said. “We can talk in here.”
He nodded, closed her door and sprinted around to the other side. He was getting wetter, if possible, by the second.
Her door was still locked on that side and it took a second for her to realize that and click the switch, another second to toss her book onto the back seat and pull her purse over on her lap. Her purse with the Mace in it.
He dropped in beside her. “Thanks. I hoped you weren’t going to leave me out there.”
“A little rain won’t hurt you.”
“No. But that rain is not lit...tle.” He stopped speaking, looked out the window. The rain had stopped. He tossed his wet head sharply to fling away the droplets still running down his face. “I guess it was a little rain.”
He was fogging up the interior and she turned on the engine, then the defrost and heater. She turned the air on high.
“I’d just as soon not stay here in the parking lot,” she said, “since there are lots of curious young men who will entertain themselves with remarks about you for the rest of the school year.”
“Anywhere you want to
Similar Books
