Dream a Little Dream (Chicago Stars, #4)(201)

The kiss deepened. He reached under her dress, pulled at her panties. She grabbed for the snap on his jeans.

There was a loud thump on the ceiling. They sprang back like guilty children, then realized Tom had merely dropped something in the projection room.

She grabbed the edge of the counter.

He took a long, unsteady breath. “I forgot we weren’t alone.”

Her delight bubbled to the surface. “You sure did. You got totally carried away by lust, Bonner. Totally.”

“I’m not the only one. And it’s not funny. Having somebody walk in on the two of us is the last thing your reputation needs right now. It’s bad enough that I’m living at the cottage with Kristy gone.”

“Yeah-yeah.” She regarded him mischievously. “That tongue thing . . . You did it on Saturday night, too. I like it.”

He rolled his eyes, exasperated, but also amused.

“Do you know the last person I did anything like that with?”

“Not G. Dwayne I’ll bet.” He moved over to the coffeemaker, as if he didn’t trust himself to stand so close to her. She saw the distinct bulge at the front of his jeans and felt a rush of womanly satisfaction.

“Are you kidding? He was a dry pecker.”

“A what? ”

“He used to give me these dry little pecking kisses that never quite made it to my mouth. No, the last time I kissed like that was my junior year in high school with Jeffrey Dillard in the Sunday-school storage closet. We’d both been eating Jolly Ranchers, so it was sweet in more ways than one.”

“You haven’t done any tongue kissing since your junior year of high school?”

“Pathetic, isn’t it? I was afraid if I did I’d go to hell, which is one of the good things about the last few years of my life.”

“How’s that?”

“I don’t worry about hell anymore. I’ve sort of developed a ‘been there, done that’ attitude.”

“Rach . . .”

He looked so distressed she wanted to bite her tongue. Irreverence might help stave off her fear, but it upset him. “Lame joke, Bonner. Hey, you’d better get back to work before the boss catches you loafing. He’s a real tightwad, and, if you’re not careful, he’ll dock your pay. Personally, I’m scared to death of him.”


“Is that so?”

“The man has no pity, not to mention being stingy. Luckily, I’m smarter than he is, so I’ve figured a way to get a promotion.”

“How’s that?” He took a sip of coffee.

“I’m going to strip him naked and then lick him all over.”

His lengthy coughing fit left her with a sense of satisfaction that carried her through the rest of the afternoon.



Edward crouched on his haunches, the heels of his hands braced on his knees, and gazed into the cardboard box. “It’s not dead yet.”

The kid’s pessimistic attitude annoyed Gabe, but he tried not to show it. He returned the mixture of ground beef, egg yolk, and baby cereal he’d been using to feed the sparrow to the refrigerator. Edward had been hanging around the box all evening to watch, but he finally stood, pushed his rabbit headfirst into the elastic waistband of his shorts, and wandered into the living room.

Gabe stuck his head through the doorway. “Leave your mother alone for a while longer, okay?”

“I want to see her.”

“Later.”

The boy pulled the stuffed rabbit from his shorts, tucked it against his chest, and regarded Gabe resentfully.

Rachel had been holed up in her bedroom with G. Dwayne’s Bible ever since Kristy had brought it over. If she’d found anything, the door would have blown open, but since it hadn’t, he knew she was facing another disappointment. The least he could do was keep the boy occupied while she dealt with it.

Now he watched as the five-year-old ignored his instructions and tried to sidle inconspicuously toward the back hallway.

“I asked you to leave your mother alone.”

“She said she’d read Stellaluna to me.”

Gabe knew what he should do. He should get the book and read the story to the boy himself, but he couldn’t do that. He simply could not let the child sit next to him while he read him that particular book.

One more time, Daddy. Read Stellaluna one more time. Please.

“The book’s about a bat, right?”

Edward nodded. “A good bat. Not a scary bat.”

“Let’s go outside and see if we can spot one.”

“A real bat?”

“Sure.” Gabe led the way to the back door and held the screen open. “They should be out by now. They feed at night.”

“That’s all right. I got stuff to do here.”

“Outside, Edward. Now.”

The boy ducked reluctantly under his arm. “My name’s Chip. You shouldn’t come out here. You should stay with Tweety Bird so he don’t die.”

Gabe swallowed his impatience and followed the boy outside. “I’ve been taking care of birds since I was only a little older than you, so I guess I know what I’m doing.” He recoiled from the harsh sound of his words and took a deep breath, trying to make amends. “When my brothers and I were boys, we’d find baby birds that had fallen out of their nests all the time. We didn’t know then that you were supposed to put them back in, so we took them home. Sometimes they’d die, but sometimes we could save them.”