Carolyn Faulkner Forever in Love (pdf)

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giggling in her ear about it.
So, when are you going to see him again?
An unexpected blush settled on Laurel s features, making her glad that Niki wasn t there
to see it. Uh . . .
Come on after a night like that he didn t ask you out again?
Yeah, he did.
So? When?
For some reason, Laurel didn t want to admit that they were getting together again so
soon, but she knew Niki wouldn t let it lie. Tomorrow. He s cooking for me tomorrow at
his place.
Niki s knowing, dragged out mmmmmmm-hmmmmmmm made Laurel frown fiercely
at the phone.
Can I go to bed now? she asked petulantly.
Yeah, I guess so . . .
You re soooooo generous not!
Humph.
G night already!
Night.
Amazingly, Laurel was asleep almost as soon as she put the phone down. It seemed that
annoying friends demanding intimate details of your evening were excellent diversions,
not to mention sleeping potions.
The day was not going well. Work was flat out with problem after problem, and she was
barely able to leave on time. Laurel had taken a half-day off from work, using part of her
one and only personal day, to re-register her car. She left work at lunchtime and, of
course, hit noon traffic downtown, which might not seem like much in a small New
England burg, but when you weren t used to it, it was awful. She had to circle the block
around Town Hall four times before she found a space, and even then, when she slipped
into it and got out of her car to feed the blasted meter, she realized she was in front of a
fire hydrant. Well, she rationalized, she was only going to be in there for a few minutes
as long as there wasn t a line then she d be right out. Practically running into the
building, she told herself that if she heard fire trucks, she d run and move her car.
The process took longer than she d thought it would of course because there was a
small line and only one person working the window. So much for where my city taxes
are going, she thought. It certainly isn t into employing enough people to handle the
volume of customers.
By the time she got out of there, she was grumpy and cranky and just wanted to get
home. The administrative end of owning a vehicle was a pain in the neck, as far as she
was concerned taxes, registration, inspection, insurance sheesh! She was busy trying
to put her wallet back into her purse as she trotted down the steps to her car, so she didn t
see him before she ran right into him.
John Beauchamp was standing on the edge of the sidewalk, near the front bumper of her
car. And he looked as unhappy as she felt. When she walked into him, he was so solid
she practically bounced off of him, throwing herself backwards a couple of stumbling
steps. His hands shot out to catch her before she fell, steadying her firmly. I m sorry. I
didn t see you there. She tried for a light, friendly tone and a small smile, but knew she
failed miserably at both.
Obviously, there are a lot of things you don t see. He stared pointedly at the fire
hydrant, then back at her.
Oh, Laurel mumbled. I was only in there for a few minutes Her voice trailed off
as a police cruiser pulled up alongside her car, and the officer got out.
Hey, John. Ma m. He touched the tip of his hat to Laurel. What do we have here?
She s parked in front of a hydrant. John said the words as if he was saying that she d
set fire to a baby or something equally horrific.
Both of the men looked at her in that disappointed fashion her father had when she d
done something wrong. Laurel began to feel like a naughty schoolgirl at the principal s
office instead of an independent woman in her forties. Look, officer, I had to get my car
registered today s the last day. You wouldn t want me to drive around in an
unregistered vehicle, would you?
I m more concerned about the fact that, by parking in front of a fire hydrant, you ve
endangered other peoples lives.
Yeah, John agreed heartily. What if there was a fire?
Laurel knew there was going to be no winning this argument. Fine, fine. Give me a
ticket, officer, and I ll be on my way.
To her chagrin, he proceeded to do exactly that, saying as he was leaving, Thanks for
calling me, John. There s been too much of this lately. Someone s going to get hurt. [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]

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