Escaping the Past

“Oh, good grief,” she blew. “It’s not trash. It’s romance.” She arched a brow at him. “You only read the greats?”

“Tolstoy, Shakespeare…” he claimed.

“ Playboy?” she goaded.

“Playboy is not trash. It’s literature.” He grinned slowly. “Let me see what you have.” He held out his hand.

“Never,” she swore vehemently.

“We’ll see about that, won’t we?” he said as he grabbed her foot which was still hanging over the arm of the chair. He held it firmly with his two hands and started to tickle the bottom of her foot.

She squirmed in her chair and slapped against his hands with her own. “That doesn’t even tickle,” she promised as she stilled, hoping to fake him out. She held her breath.

“Then how about this?” he asked as he grabbed her big toe and pulled it. She heard it pop.

“Oh, God! Will you stop?” she screamed. She dropped the book to grab his hands. When she did, he released her foot and bent to pick up the book.

“I thought that would get you,” he goaded her as he opened her book.

He began to read aloud, “Chase brushed his hand against the side of her breast, making her quiver with excitement.”

“Would you stop!” she screamed and covered her ears.

“It was enjoyable to you a few minutes ago.” He grinned and continued. “Her breath stilled as she saw his gaze travel from her mouth to her breast.”

“Enough!” She got up and opened the door to her room.

He stopped her. “Hey! Do you care if I keep this? This isn’t half bad.” He feigned genuine interest as he read more.

She turned toward her bedroom. “Do whatever you want,” she grumbled.

“Hey, I was just kidding. Here! You can have it back.” He closed the book and laid it on her chair. She bent to pick it up.

“Oh, sit down, will you?” he pouted.

“Why should I?”

“Because I don’t have anyone else to talk to. Mom’s asleep and Lola’s watching her.”

“So, I’m just here for your entertainment?” she asked.

He appraised her from head-to-toe. “Yeah.” He grinned and cocked his head sideways.

She shook her head in consternation as she flopped ungracefully in the chair. She pulled her knees up to her chest and watched him out of the corner of her eye.

“Do you read a lot?” he asked c

almly.

“Just on Sundays. I usually don’t have time the rest of the week.” she stated.

“Always read romance?” he asked pleasantly.

“No! Not always! Just sometimes.” She grinned mischievously at him. “You know what they say. People who don’t get to have sex can at least read about it.”

After he picked his chin up off the floor, he grinned. “Point taken.”

“I’ll read just about anything. Where I grew up, we didn’t have a lot of access to libraries. So I never learned to enjoy it. After moving in here, your mom gave me some of her books to read.” She motioned with the one in her hand. “Not like this one, of course.” She smiled again.