Читать книгу Balancing Act - Lilian Darcy, Lilian Darcy - Страница 11

“Make yourselves at home?” Libby muttered, after Brady had gone.

For how long would they need to do that? A week? A month? There was a pile of newspapers on the table in the breakfast nook, and she realized that he must have been collecting and saving the real estate section from the Columbus Dispatch for her, for the past three or four weeks. Flipping through the top copy, she saw that he’d circled a few places with a yellow highlighter pen.

Thoughtful.

Or was he just trying to get rid of her fast? She supported that plan. Standing in the kitchen together just now, the current between them had almost glowed. Her spine still tingled. Her breasts still ached. When she wrapped her arms around herself, it was his heat that she felt.

Colleen tugged at her skirt. “Fir-sty,” she said.

“You’re thirsty, honey?”

“’N hundwy, too.”

“Let’s see what we’ve got.”

There was milk in the fridge. Not a lot else.

She remembered some packets of peanut butter crackers in one of the pantry boxes and dug them out, looked around and discovered Colleen’s own high chair sitting beside Scarlett’s in a corner of the big kitchen. Libby slid the high chair out from the wall and lifted Colleen into it, and Colleen seemed quite happy to accept that it was here.

Hello, chair.

Libby peered through to the living room. There was none of her stuff in here. In the end, she’d rented her house out partly furnished to some friends who were renovating their own place, and she’d only brought enough to furnish a modest apartment here in Columbus. It was part of the not-burning-her-boats strategy she and Brady had both agreed on. She’d have to fly home in a couple of months to make a more long-term arrangement, but she didn’t want to think about that yet.

Brady’s living room was very masculine, furnished with brown leather sofas—a two-seater, a three-seater and an armchair—a large, low, heavy-looking coffee table made of dark wood, a square of Persian carpet on the hardwood floor, an open fire-place and a series of framed, limited edition photos of spectacular moments in sport.