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She shifted, conscious of the sensation of her legs rubbing together, a sexy feeling she hadn’t felt in alongtime. He’d made her feel that way last night—the way he’d looked at her, his presence next to her, radiatingman.
He’d been absolutely the most delicious man she’d ever seen. Even his forearms, bared by his rolled-up sleeves, had been erotic.
Forget him. She probably wouldn’t see him again. She didn’t even know his name. Besides, soon he’d be going back to Italy, and she lived here in Chicago.
How exotic was that? She’d dreamed of living in Italy ever since she’d watchedUnder the Tuscan Sun. His incredible tan was probably from lying in the warm sun. She wondered if he had tan lines or—
Stop that. Turning, she hid her burning face in her pillow. She wouldn’t think about him, or his body, clothed or otherwise. She’d go back to sleep and then wake up refreshed instead of hot and bothered, and then she’d get on with her day.
Half an hour later, it was obvious her thoughts—and her body—were going to be unruly this morning. Even after a session with Bob, she didn’t feel satisfied. As she swung her legs out of bed, she made a mental note to get him new batteries. Stretching, she pulled her robe on over her shortie pajamas and went downstairs.
Like every morning, Lottie was sitting at the small round table in the corner of her kitchen, next to the window. She had a cup of coffee—probably her second by this time of morning—andThe Tribuneneatly folded in front of her, open to the crossword puzzle. Her silver-bobbed hair was bent over the paper as she steadily filled in the letters into the boxes. The crossword puzzles got harder every day, culminating on Sunday, but it was a rare day when her grandma couldn’t figure out a clue. It was Rachel’s earliest memory, sitting on Lottie’s lap as she did the crossword puzzle after spending the night.
Really, she’d spent most of her youth here. Her parents, who lived in Arizona now, were absent from her life from the beginning. It didn’t matter though, because she had Lottie, and she was grateful for that every day.
Her grandma looked up with a smile, moving her glasses from the bridge of her nose to the top of her head. “Have fun last night, sweetheart?”
Just like that, she thought ofhimagain, and she felt her entire body flush. Turning so Lottie wouldn’t see her blush, she nodded as she got herself a coffee cup from the cupboard. “Chris had more customers, so that was good.”
“I was glad he came home to take over Clancy’s. It’d be a shame if it closed down. Your grandfather used to take me there on dates after we were moved into this house.”
Fixing her coffee, Rachel sat down across from her. She’d never known her grandfather—he’d died when her dad was a teenager—but Lottie always went soft when she talked about him. “Do you miss him?”
“Every day,” Lottie replied, giving the same answer she always did when Rachel asked her that question. And, also like always, her expression became sadly dreamy as she remembered her husband.
Lottie had never remarried. She’d told Rachel once that at first she’d been too busy, raising a son and working as a secretary, and then later she’d been too set in her ways to think about sharing life with someone else.
“Those people called again yesterday,” Lottie said as she returned to her puzzle. “The ones who want to buy my house.”
Rachel frowned. “Didn’t you tell them you weren’t interested in selling?”
“They aren’t the sort of people who take no for an answer,” her grandma replied dryly.
“Next time give them my phone number.”
Lottie looked up at that. “So they can hassle you while you’re at work?”
“I can—”
“Tell them no, the same as I’m doing,” Lottie finished for her. She smiled. “You never know. Maybe I’ll agree to their offer and sell the house. Lord knows it’s past time I do something with myself again. Maybe I’ll travel around the world and bartend, like Chris did before he came back home.”
“You don’t mean that.” She gaped at her grandma. “You mean it. I thought you were happy when you retired.”
“From secretarial work, yes. I spent enough years at someone else’s beck and call.” Lottie flashed a saucy grin. “I may be old, but I’ve got a lot of years left, sweetheart. It seems like I should find something to do with myself.”
Rachel sat back, blown away. “Why didn’t you ever tell me you felt that way?”
“I’m telling you now. It’s been a nice distraction, having you here, but you won’t be here forever.” Lottie winked at her. “You know I’d make a darn fine bartender.”
Rachel sipped on her coffee, thinking about that. Maybe she could come up with a solution for her grandma that’d keep her busy and happy and still in her home. Lottie was right; Rachel wouldn’t be here forever—hopefully. She wouldn’t have moved in to begin with if Kevin hadn’t claimed everything in the divorce.
Kevin was a jerk.
“I never liked him,” Lottie said for the millionth time.
Rachel rolled her eyes, but she smiled at the same time. “I hate it when you read my mind.”
“It’s a trait I picked up when I was a secretary. You have to anticipate what your boss wants.”
