Waking Up To Love (Lakeside Porches Book 4) Read Free

just good times.
    Some weekdays he’d picked her up at the flat she shared with her friend, Karin. Usually he was worn out and tense from work, but within minutes they’d be laughing over some silly thing she’d seen or done that week, and off they’d go to dinner or a show or an event at the university.
    He’d been married once “briefly” he’d told her, a decade ago, when he was Lyssa’s age. No children. An only child of older parents, he’d gone to the best schools, had a doctorate in something to do with computers and “worked too much.” He’d described his job as “computer security, very boring stuff, believe me it’s a yawn.” But judging by his hand-tailored suits and jeweled platinum cufflinks, he made a lot of money.
    She hadn’t felt compelled to ask for details. She simply knew he was the sweetest, smartest, most-caring man she could ever meet. How can I get on a plane tomorrow and never see him again?
    But she had no other choice. No options to keep her in the UK. Just a promising job interview in the very city where her sister lived. Manda, her only living relative. Their parents, both teachers, had named them Lyssa and Manda without the leading A’s, as incentive to earn their A’s. And they had.
    The storm rattled the windows, and Lyssa’s stomach growled. She set down her teacup and reached for the plate. Fiona’s tea sandwiches were crustless and cut on the diagonal. She lifted up the bread for a peek. No wimpy canapés for Pennington House. These were packed with thick-sliced cheddar, fresh tomato, and watercress.
    Midway through the third little triangle, she was stuffed. Her fatigue had lifted, but her sadness had not. Face it, Lyssa, you’re in love with Kyle .
    And your heart is breaking. A few tears slipped down her cheeks.
    She refilled her teacup and stretched out her legs on the window seat. Sighing in harmony with the howling wind, she couldn’t think of a single reason Kyle was wrong for her. Although he is a little off-type for me. She’d always imagined herself falling for a hot, young guy who loved to dance and who lived on the edge. Kyle was handsome and muscled and sexy in a quiet, classy way. She didn’t know if he could dance, but he definitely didn’t live on the edge.
    And anyway that definition of Mr. Right was before she got sober and realized there was more to life than booze, pot, and a different band every night. Those pot-smoking, beer-drinking days were done .
    Even though she’d struck out with finding a job in her field in the UK, if Kyle asked her to stay and make a life with him, would she do it?
    But he doesn’t want that .
    She’d been trying to take their relationship to the next level for a month now. Hinting. Flirting. Touching. Always his gaze shifted or his eyes shuttered, and he moved away with a smile and a light-hearted remark.
    Let him go, Lyssa.
    But she couldn’t. Kyle had touched her heart with his gentle smile and refined manner, warm gray eyes, well-toned body, and incredibly sharp mind. Why can’t I reach his heart, too? Sadness washed over her. Or even sleep with him once .
    Try again tonight , her sexy self urged. He had obviously liked what he’d seen when her T-shirt got drenched this afternoon.
    Yes, and then he sent you up to your room and had food brought up to you , her grown-up self pointed out.
    He wants to be alone.
    Kyle swirled the snifter until the heat of his hand lifted the aroma. He held the Courvoisier 21 Year Old under his nose for a moment before downing half. The tingle and heat stilled his shudders but couldn’t touch his anger or sense of betrayal.
    Justin Cushman hadn’t answered his cell a few minutes ago, so he’d left a message telling him exactly what he thought about snatching away, with no warning, the wholly desirable woman he’d put in his path a year ago. Did he imagine I would lose interest in her after a month? Or a year?
    Ever since that soiree at the university in London, Lyssa had