Harlequin Special Edition December 2016, Box Set 2 of 2 by Christine Rimmer

Author:Christine Rimmer
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781488027383
Publisher: Harlequin
Published: 2016-02-15T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER ELEVEN

Tomatoes.

June was only half over, but if Sophia saw another tomato, she might scream. Or barf.

It turned out the potted plants lining one side of the flagstone patio were Mrs. MacDowell’s absurdly fertile tomatoes. There were so many, they ripened and fell off the vines, bounced out of their pots and split open on the patio, where they proceeded to cook on the hot stone in the June sun. Every deep yoga breath Sophia took brought in shimmering molecules of hot energy that smelled vaguely like lasagna.

The smell made her stomach turn.

She’d had such high hopes for June. She’d imagined basking in the sun, breathing deeply, feeling the health and strength of every muscle in her body as she went through all the yoga routines she could remember. Travis wouldn’t be able to resist spying on her. Drooling over her silver-screen-worthy body, he would spend lots of time with her, and she wouldn’t be lonely in the least.

Instead, she was the one who drooled over Travis, spying on him from the kitchen window. June had brought him back from wherever he’d been disappearing to, but although he spent part of every day in the barn, he was never alone. The ranch must be too big for just one person, because there were always other cowboys around. Usually, they left in pairs on horseback, off to do whatever the heck kept ranchers busy in the month of June.

Her eye was always drawn to Travis. She knew the way he sat a horse now, the set of his shoulders, the way a coil of rope always rested on the back of his saddle when he rode away, the way the rope was looped on the saddle horn and resting on top of his right thigh when he returned.

Not today. She heard what sounded like a motorcycle.

She ran to the window in time to catch Travis roaring away on an ATV. He was in jeans and a plaid shirt, as usual, but he wore no hat to keep the wind out of his hair. He drove the four-wheeler the way he galloped a horse, almost standing up, leaning over the handlebars into the wind. He looked so strong and young and free, something in her yearned to be with him.

“Wait for me.” But saying the words out loud didn’t make them seem any less pitiful than when they echoed in her head.

She put her hand on the glass, well and truly isolated. If only a director would yell cut. If only the prop team would help her out of a mock space capsule. If only Grace were waiting to bring her out of her self-induced sorrow, to remind her that it was only a movie, and the real Sophia could have a bowl of ice cream and paint her fingernails and never, ever have to wonder if she’d make it back to Earth.

Normalcy. It had always been such a relief to return to the normal world after experiencing a character’s intense emotions.

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