Hell, I’d been thinking about the freckle under her ass since the first moment I saw her. But it was more than just lust now. I liked Reese. I liked the woman she was inside. At first, I’d been afraid it was pity and that my emotions were wrapped up in feeling sorry for her and wanting to help her.
I didn’t think that anymore. Reese didn’t want pity. She didn’t require it. She was tough. Much tougher than I had given her credit for. I respected her ability to roll with the punches of life and keep fighting. With a body like hers, she could have used those assets to follow another path in life. One where her looks paid the bills. But she hadn’t done that. Instead, she worked hard cleaning houses, and she was proud of her job.
There was much more to Reese than I had first assumed. So much more than I could have expected. And she was getting to me, slowly reeling me in, and she didn’t even realize it. But I had to face the fact that she might not want that. It was very likely that Reese wasn’t interested in me for anything more than friendship.
Maybe that was for the best. For starters, we lived several states away from each other. That in itself was an issue. And it wasn’t like she would up and move just to date me, and moving my ranch to Rosemary Beach was impossible. I had a job and a future here.
Stepping into the shower, I decided that I wouldn’t think about that now. There was no point. This needed to be taken slowly. My fantasies about her would remain just that.
Thirty minutes later, my phone rang as I was standing on my front porch finishing a beer, still thinking about her.
“Hey,” I said, as I answered on the first ring.
“Hey. I’m earlier than usual. I hope that’s OK.” She sounded excited.
I smiled. “Yeah. That’s fine. I wasn’t doing anything but waiting for you to call anyway.”
“Oh,” was her only response.
“How did tonight go?” I asked. Astor Munroe was also giving me full reports once a week via e-mail. He had agreed not to mention the fact that I was paying him to help Reese. I didn’t think she would be as willing to work with him if she knew. I wanted her mind completely free of any distractions from learning.
“Great. I read him a chapter of the book he had given me last week. It wasn’t a picture book. It was my first chapter book. I wasn’t fast or anything, but I read it without panicking or getting a word wrong. I also took a spelling test. The first one I’ve ever passed in my life,” she added, sounding giddy. The idea of never being able to pass a spelling test sliced me a little inside. I hated thinking about the little girl who had struggled and been ignored.
“That’s amazing. I’m so proud of you, but then, I knew you could do it. Never doubted you,” I assured her. “I’m still waiting for you to be brave enough to read to me.”
That always made her go silent on me. She was still scared to read to me, but dammit, I wanted her to trust me. I wanted her to feel comfortable with it. Knowing she read for Astor made me jealous of the man. Which was ridiculous but true.
I started to assure her that she didn’t have to if she wasn’t ready, but she spoke first.
“OK. Um, let me go get the book I read tonight,” she said softly.
Maybe it was selfish to let her do this when she was obviously so nervous, but I wanted this bad. “I’m honored,” I admitted.
A soft laugh came over the phone. “I keep telling myself you’ve heard me sing, and my reading isn’t as bad as that, so I can do this.”
Only this woman could make me grin like a fool over the damn phone. “This is true,” I agreed, teasingly.
She laughed again. “It’s not a deep read or anything. Tell me when you’ve had enough. My feelings won’t be hurt. This may bore you to death.”
I’d let her read the whole book if she would. “I will. Read to me.”
For the next thirty minutes, I settled into the rocking chair on my front porch with my legs propped on up the railing and listened to Reese’s sweet voice reading to me over the phone. She only got hung up a few times, and I helped her quickly so she wouldn’t get nervous and stop on me.
It was the best thirty minutes I’d had all week.
Reese
After my first time reading to Mase, our twice-a-week phone calls became a nightly thing. On the days when I didn’t go to my lessons, Mase called me. He wanted me to read to him before he went to bed. I wondered how much he really wanted to hear me read. I had a feeling he was trying to get me to practice with him. This was his way of making sure that I got comfortable reading in front of people.
Hearing his voice at night before bed was comforting. It was odd how easily I drifted off to sleep once I had talked to him. He always ended the calls with “Good night and sweet dreams.” As if my body was at his command, I had exactly that. Each night was good, and my dreams were always of him. So they were very sweet.
Getting control over my growing affection for this man was something I needed to do, and fast. Mase was a friend. One of the best a girl could have. I didn’t want to mess that up for anything. And if I made him uncomfortable, this could all end. That was too depressing to consider.
“Earth to Reese. I’m asking you a question. Where did you go?” Jimmy sat down across from me on the sofa.
His visit was unexpected, but he’d come with ice cream again, and I couldn’t kick him out. But my phone would ring soon, and I wanted Jimmy to be gone when that happened. I didn’t want to tell Mase that I couldn’t talk.
“Sorry. I was thinking about stuff. Ignore me. I’m tired.”
Jimmy cocked an eyebrow as if he didn’t believe me. “Really? Too tired for rocky road?”
No. I wasn’t too tired for rocky road. I was too excited about hearing Mase’s voice for rocky road. “Of course not.” I took the spoon he’d stuck into the container for me and took a big bite.
“Easy, girl. Brain freeze is a bitch,” Jimmy warned.
Smiling, I silently agreed and took my time before another bite.
“Next weekend. I’m not waiting anymore. You are going out with the doctor. It’s a double date. You pick the night. Friday or Saturday. Because it is happening. I’m done waiting for you.”
Crap. He wasn’t letting this go. He mentioned it at least once a week. I had been avoiding answering.
But maybe this was a good thing. I was so focused on Mase, and that couldn’t be good. If I dated, I might be able to distract myself. That seemed highly unlikely, but at least if Mase was getting the idea that I was interested in him, this would throw him off. He wouldn’t have to worry about my affection for him. And that meant he wouldn’t stop calling me.