Dream a Little Dream (Chicago Stars, #4)(153)

“Exactly how not-poor are you?”

“Didn’t your grandmother teach you it was rude to ask people questions like that?”

“You’re not people, Bonner. I’m not even sure you’re human.”

“I’ve got better things to do than sit here and let you insult me.” He snatched his empty Dr Pepper can from the sandy soil where he’d propped it and stood up. “Get to work.”

As she watched him stalk away, she considered the possibility that she’d offended him. He definitely looked offended. With a satisfied smile, she returned to her chocolate shake.



Ethan stepped out of his office and followed the direction of childish squeals to the playground at the rear of the church where the children were waiting for their parents to pick them up. He told himself this was a good way to connect with the members of the community who weren’t part of his congregation, but the truth was, he wanted to see Laura Delapino.

As he walked onto the playground, the Briggs twins abandoned their riding toys to run to his side.

“Guess what? Tyler Baxter barfed on the floor, and it got all over.”

“Cool,” Ethan replied.

“I almost barfed, too,” Chelsey Briggs confessed, “but Mrs. Wells let me pass out straws.”

Ethan laughed at the image that non sequitur conjured up. He loved kids, and for years he’d been looking forward to having a few of his own. Gabe’s son, Jamie, had been the apple of his eye. Even after two years, it was hard for him to handle what had happened to his nephew and to Cherry, his sweet-tempered sister-in-law.

He’d almost left the ministry after their senseless deaths, but he’d gotten off easier than the rest of his family. The tragedy had pushed his parents into a midlife crisis that had nearly led to divorce, and Cal had shut out everything from his life except winning football games.

Luckily, after a brief separation, his parents’ marriage had undergone a transformation that had left Jim and Lynn Bonner acting like lovebirds, as well as changing their lives. Right now the two of them were in South America, where his father was serving as a medical missionary while his mother set up a co-op to market the work of local artisans.

As for Cal, a genius physicist named Dr. Jane Darlington had come into his life, and now the family had another baby, eight-month-old Rosie, an impish blue-eyed darling who held all of them in the palm of her tiny little hand.

None of them, however, had gone through as tough a time as Gabe. Sometimes it was hard for Ethan to remember the gentle healer his brother had been. Throughout Ethan’s childhood, there had always been an injured animal somewhere in the house: a bird with a broken wing in the kitchen, a stray dog to be nursed back to health in the garage, a baby skunk too young to survive on its own hidden away in Gabe’s bedroom closet.

All his life, Gabe had wanted to be a vet, but he’d never planned on becoming a multimillionaire. His sudden wealth had amused everyone in the family, since Gabe was notoriously indifferent about money. It had happened accidentally.

His brother was insatiably curious, and he’d always liked to tinker. Several years after he’d opened his practice in rural Georgia, he’d developed a specialized orthopedic splint to use on one of the championship thoroughbreds he was treating for a local breeder. The splint had worked so well that it had quickly been adopted by the wealthy horse-racing community, and Gabe was making a fortune from the patent.

He had always been the most complex of the three brothers. While Cal was aggressive and confrontational, quick to anger and equally quick to forgive, Gabe kept his feelings to himself. Still, he’d been the first person Ethan had run to when he’d gotten into scrapes as a child. His quiet voice and slow, lazy movements could calm a troubled boy just as well as they soothed a frightened animal. But now his gentle, pensive brother had turned into a bitter, cynical man.

Ethan was distracted from his reverie by the arrival of Laura Delapino, the town’s newest divorcée. She’d tossed a gauzy lime-green blouse over a black halter top, which she wore with a pair of tight white shorts. Her long fingernails were polished the same deep shade of red as the toenails visible through the straps of her silver sandals. Her breasts were lush, her legs long, her hair big and blond. She exuded sex, and he wanted some of it.

Men of God who secretly lust after trashy women! Live today on Oprah!


He groaned inwardly. He wasn’t in the mood for this.

But it was no use. The Wise God knew a ratings hit when she saw one.

Tell us, Reverend Bonner—we’re all friends here—why is it you’re never interested in any of the nice women who live in this town?

Nice women bore me to tears.

They’re supposed to bore you. You’re a minister, remember? Why is it only our more flamboyant sisters who catch your eye?

Laura Delapino bent over to talk to her little girl, and he could see the outline of a pair of very lacy bikini underpants beneath those tight white shorts. A shaft of heat shot straight to his groin.

I’m talking to you, Mister, Oprah said.

Go away, he replied, which only made her mad.

Don’t you start with Me! Next thing you’ll be whining about how you’re not cut out for the job and how the ministry is ruining your life.

He wanted Eastwood back.

Pay attention to Me, Ethan Bonner. It’s time you found yourself a nice, decent woman and settled down.