Read Between the Lines by Erica Spindler

Author:Erica Spindler [Spindler, Erica]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Double Shot Press
Published: 2016-09-26T21:00:00+00:00

Chapter 6

Michael paced. Where the hell was she? She’d left the bar—he checked his watch—six hours and ten minutes ago. He pictured her and Dean strolling out the door arm in arm, and his blood pressure rose.

He shouldn’t have let her go, Michael thought for the hundredth time. He should have leaped over the bar, punched that intellectual bozo out and hauled Katherine into his arms. It certainly was what he’d wanted to do.

Michael flexed his fingers. But he’d had no right to follow his instincts. He had no claim on her, so he’d stood by and let her leave with a man who had sent her flowers on Valentine’s Day and asked her to say “yes.”

What if she did? Michael cursed and dragged his hands through his hair, his heart thudding against his chest as he pictured Katherine in the other man’s arms, in his bed.

He started to pace again. Where was she? It was two o’clock in the morning, for God’s sake! He checked his watch, then groaned as he saw it was actually after two. What could they be doing? Activities at this time of the morning were limited. He imagined several of the juicier possibilities and broke out in a cold sweat.

It’d been torture watching her all night. She’d been beautiful, vivacious, alluring; men had been falling all over themselves for her attention. A panicky sensation settled in his stomach. He’d experienced it earlier tonight and he remembered feeling the same way at eighteen when faced with Katherine’s brainy friends, or, worse, her parents.

The sensation made him feel young and uncertain, and he strode to the window and glared out at the night. There was no movement on the river; there wasn’t a light shining on either shore. Of course there wasn’t, he thought derisively, everyone in Rockford except him, Katherine and Dean was home sleeping.

He swung away from the window and stared at the front door, willing it to open, willing Katherine to be on the other side. What had gotten into her? Bars, low-cut sweaters and martinis weren’t her style. Neither were provocative glances or throaty laughs. What was she trying to prove, or rather, who was she trying to impress?

Not him, he thought, frustrated. She’d barely looked at him before her professor friend had come in, and not at all after. Michael grinned as he thought of her drink refill and her reaction to it. A moment later his smile faded. There were lots of ways to have fun, and all of them could be had without liquor.

Fun. The panic tightened in his chest, almost overwhelming, him. He wanted his old Katie back. His serious, quiet, a little shy Katie. He wanted the woman who was cautious, analytical and covered from head to toe in conservative wools. And he wanted her home.

Michael started to check his watch again, then gritted his teeth and stuffed his hands into his pockets. Watching the clock wasn’t going to help—neither was pacing. A drink, he decided. A drink would help, and several would be even better.

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