you two. Trust me, Sophie,a mother always knows!"”
At least someone knew what was going on because Sophie sure didn't. “He's coming over for business, Mom.”
Lucy bit into another cookie. “Uh-huh. I know what kind of business too!”
“ Mom!”
That lady was getting sassy in her “advanced” years.
* * * *
After Reed ended the call with Sophie, he dialed Ben.
“ Carrington.”
“ Have you ever tried, 'hello?'”
“ Yes.”
When Bendidn't elaborate more, Reed gave up and got to the point. “I ran the figures for the Donaldson Building project. I thought I would drop the paperwork off with Sophie tonight.”
“ Okay.”
“ Just, 'okay?' No 'Reed, buddy, you should probably wait until we can set up a meeting?'”
“ I've never, in my life, called you 'buddy.'”
“ Don't you want to be the voice of reason?”
“ Why?”
“ I may be flying offthe handle, jumping the gun…”
“ If you say 'going off half-cocked' I'm hanging up.”
Reed gave a startled laugh. “Did you actually make a joke?”
No response from Ben.
“ So, you're saying I should go over there?”
Ben wasn't saying anything.
“ Okay, you talked me into it. I'll go.”
Reed thought Ben would remain quiet, but he finally responded. “I trust you. Trust yourself.” With that advice,Ben hung up.
If Reed had to trust himself, he was in some serious trouble here. He paced his living room, trying not to think about sugar coated Sophie. Naked, sugar coated Sophie. Naked, crying out his name, sugar coated Sophie.
That woman could tempt a saint without even trying. Just remembering the feel of her soft skin undid him. The vanilla and chocolate scent that seemed to be signatureSophie enticed him more than any perfume. Hell, he couldn't even look at a cookie without getting a damn hard-on.
Considering the amount of cookies he was about to be around, he was heading for disaster. If this kept up, there wouldn't be any blood left in his brain. He needed a distraction or he'd have a permanent zipper imprint embedded in his skin.
The sound of staccato tapping on his frontdoor, followed by his mom calling, “Yoo hoo! Reed? Are you home, dear?” did the trick. Nothing killed sexy thoughts quicker than the sound of your mother's voice. He didn't know whether to be relieved or irritated by the surprise house call. He opted for relief when he smelled the rich, garlicky aroma of lasagna, his favorite.
Reed found Dot placing a foil-covered casserole dish on the butcher-blockcounter in his kitchen. She was wearing dark blue cotton capris with a matching blue and white striped top. Her platinum blonde hair was swept back from her forehead by tortoise shell sunglasses. The style was meant to look carefree, but he knew if he removed the sunglasses, her hair wouldn't move. The helmet like hairstyle that seemed to be popular with women over fifty was sprayed to withinan inch of its life. A cyclone wouldn't budge one strand of her hair.
He leaned down and gave Dot's proffered cheek a peck. “Hey, Mom. What brings you here? Where's Dad?”
She busied herself around his kitchen, searching for and retrieving a clean plate and some silverware. Her high voice strained with her efforts to sound casual. “He's at the lake. Again. The basement freezer is already fullof fish. I don't know what we'll do if he brings home more. Want some?”
He wasn't sure if she was talking about extra fish or the lasagna. Reed gave a universal answer of “sure,” figuring either option worked for him.
“ So, Mom, why do I get blessed with lasagna?”
She started wiping down his already mostly clean counter top.
“ Mom? Stop cleaning my house and sit down with me. What's going on?”
Dot sat gracefully and folded her hands primly in her lap. “Can't a mom visit her son? I had an MFLIC meeting this morning so I thought I would stop by for a chat.”
Reed and his mother never spent much time chatting, but he'd wait to hear what she had on her mind. He
At least someone knew what was going on because Sophie sure didn't. “He's coming over for business, Mom.”
Lucy bit into another cookie. “Uh-huh. I know what kind of business too!”
“ Mom!”
That lady was getting sassy in her “advanced” years.
* * * *
After Reed ended the call with Sophie, he dialed Ben.
“ Carrington.”
“ Have you ever tried, 'hello?'”
“ Yes.”
When Bendidn't elaborate more, Reed gave up and got to the point. “I ran the figures for the Donaldson Building project. I thought I would drop the paperwork off with Sophie tonight.”
“ Okay.”
“ Just, 'okay?' No 'Reed, buddy, you should probably wait until we can set up a meeting?'”
“ I've never, in my life, called you 'buddy.'”
“ Don't you want to be the voice of reason?”
“ Why?”
“ I may be flying offthe handle, jumping the gun…”
“ If you say 'going off half-cocked' I'm hanging up.”
Reed gave a startled laugh. “Did you actually make a joke?”
No response from Ben.
“ So, you're saying I should go over there?”
Ben wasn't saying anything.
“ Okay, you talked me into it. I'll go.”
Reed thought Ben would remain quiet, but he finally responded. “I trust you. Trust yourself.” With that advice,Ben hung up.
If Reed had to trust himself, he was in some serious trouble here. He paced his living room, trying not to think about sugar coated Sophie. Naked, sugar coated Sophie. Naked, crying out his name, sugar coated Sophie.
That woman could tempt a saint without even trying. Just remembering the feel of her soft skin undid him. The vanilla and chocolate scent that seemed to be signatureSophie enticed him more than any perfume. Hell, he couldn't even look at a cookie without getting a damn hard-on.
Considering the amount of cookies he was about to be around, he was heading for disaster. If this kept up, there wouldn't be any blood left in his brain. He needed a distraction or he'd have a permanent zipper imprint embedded in his skin.
The sound of staccato tapping on his frontdoor, followed by his mom calling, “Yoo hoo! Reed? Are you home, dear?” did the trick. Nothing killed sexy thoughts quicker than the sound of your mother's voice. He didn't know whether to be relieved or irritated by the surprise house call. He opted for relief when he smelled the rich, garlicky aroma of lasagna, his favorite.
Reed found Dot placing a foil-covered casserole dish on the butcher-blockcounter in his kitchen. She was wearing dark blue cotton capris with a matching blue and white striped top. Her platinum blonde hair was swept back from her forehead by tortoise shell sunglasses. The style was meant to look carefree, but he knew if he removed the sunglasses, her hair wouldn't move. The helmet like hairstyle that seemed to be popular with women over fifty was sprayed to withinan inch of its life. A cyclone wouldn't budge one strand of her hair.
He leaned down and gave Dot's proffered cheek a peck. “Hey, Mom. What brings you here? Where's Dad?”
She busied herself around his kitchen, searching for and retrieving a clean plate and some silverware. Her high voice strained with her efforts to sound casual. “He's at the lake. Again. The basement freezer is already fullof fish. I don't know what we'll do if he brings home more. Want some?”
He wasn't sure if she was talking about extra fish or the lasagna. Reed gave a universal answer of “sure,” figuring either option worked for him.
“ So, Mom, why do I get blessed with lasagna?”
She started wiping down his already mostly clean counter top.
“ Mom? Stop cleaning my house and sit down with me. What's going on?”
Dot sat gracefully and folded her hands primly in her lap. “Can't a mom visit her son? I had an MFLIC meeting this morning so I thought I would stop by for a chat.”
Reed and his mother never spent much time chatting, but he'd wait to hear what she had on her mind. He
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