Such Rough Splendor by Cinda Richards & Cheryl Reavis

Author:Cinda Richards & Cheryl Reavis [Richards, Cinda & Reavis, Cheryl]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2011-09-20T20:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER SIX

AMELIA WOKE AT seven o’clock—Eastern time. The house was completely silent, and when she could lie in Mac’s bed no longer she got up and quietly showered, then dressed in a pair of white cotton slacks and a navy-blue T-shirt. The morning was cool—cold to her—and she slipped on Mac’s denim jacket, again savoring his masculine scent in the cloth. She stood in the small bathroom, staring into the mirror and trying to decide what to do with her sleep-starved face. She had cried a long time, and it showed. She finally put on some lip gloss, and then some gray eyeshadow, impulsively following that with mascara and some blusher—all the while berating herself because she was doing it for Houston McDade, and she knew it. She took one last look in the mirror and sighed. She still looked as if she’d spent most of the night crying.

The smell of freshly brewed coffee came from the kitchen, and Mac was sitting by himself in a straight chair in front of one of the large windows that reached nearly ceiling to floor. Amelia bent down to retie one of her running shoes, not seeing him until she straightened up again.

“You’re up early,” she said in what she hoped was a neutral voice. Her heart was pounding at the sight of him, her entire body sensitized to his presence in the room. She should have been upset that he went off with Marlene after all, but in actuality she was—she was happy. He was here now, and nothing else mattered to her.

“Haven’t been to bed,” Mac answered, his voice distant and preoccupied. His feet were propped on the low win-dowsill, his white socks drooping over the ends of his toes, and his boots were carelessly dumped near his chair, one standing upright, one toppled over onto the tile floor.

Amelia hesitated, pushing up the sleeves of his denim jacket so she could take down a coffee cup from one of the sculpted shelves over the kitchen counter. She filled it half full of coffee, then walked to the refrigerator, careful not to spill the coffee or to look at Mac.

“What are you hunting for?” he asked.

“Milk,” she answered, still not looking at him. His hair was mussed, the sprigs of crisp, dark hair all askew and making him look absolutely adorable. Amelia forced herself not to think of Marlene and how his hair could have come to look that way.

“Are you going to drink that?” he asked as she poured her half cup of coffee full of milk.

“Not until I find some sugar,” she said, and he watched as her sacrilege continued. She found Rita’s copper sugar bowl in a stuccoed niche near a large fern that sat on the end of the kitchen counter. She stirred two heaping tea-spoonfuls of sugar into her coffee. “Maybe you shouldn’t watch,” she suggested at the look on his face.

“Maybe I shouldn’t,” he agreed as she took a sip.

“So,” she said after a time, determined to keep up the sophisticated front if it killed her.

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