Free Starstruck by Anne McAllister Page A

It’s a virus, she told herself. I’m coming down with something. She didn’t want to think about what.
     
     
    “ S hhhhhhh.”
    Giggle. Creak. Shuffle.
    “Hush.”
    Clink.
    “Is she still asleep?”
    “Stuff it, I said.”
    Liv squeezed her eyes shut against the sunlight. “Go ’way,” she mumbled.
    “See, she is, too, awake.”
    “Barely.” The voice was dry, amused, and very masculine.
    Liv’s eyes flew open.
    Joe stood at the foot of her bed holding a breakfast tray complete with pancakes, bacon and a bouquet of daisies. He was surrounded by a horde of grinning children. Liv dragged the covers up under her chin, stunned and staring. Only the smell of the bacon and the chirp of the flicker in the tree outside the window convinced her that she was really seeing him.
    “Wha … what?” she croaked.
    “Sit up and feast, Sleeping Beauty.” Joe carried the tray around to the side of the bed and stood over her, tall and devastatingly attractive.
    What a dream, Liv thought. It must be possible to smell bacon and hear birds in one’s dreams. Don’t let me wake up, she prayed, but then, in the same moment, realized with dismay that she had.
    “Sit up and eat, Mommy,” Jennifer commanded. “Joe and us made you pancakes and bacon.”
    “They were swell. We ate most of ’em,” Stephen piped up.
    Liv looked from Joe to the kids and back to Joe, feeling rather like a rabbit caught, in a trap. He had his tiger’s eyes again. “How long … ” she began. “Where did you ”
    There seemed to be so many questions. Mainly, of course, what was he doing here? He looked tired, despite the grin on his face. He was wearing a pale blue and white striped open-neck sport shirt and a pair of jeans even more faded and disreputable than the ones he’d left on her bathroom floor. And—oh dear, she remembered she was wearing his sweat shirt! She scrunched even further under the covers till only her nose, eyes and tousled blond hair were showing.
    “Just let me get dressed and I’ll come into the kitchen to eat,” she mumbled beneath the blanket.
    Joe shook his head. “Humor us. We shouldn’t have to go to all this trouble to give you breakfast in bed for nothing. I mean how often do you have breakfast in bed?” His eyes were mesmerizing her, drowning her in the deep-green sea of his gaze. It terrified her. Joe Harrington at two or five thousand miles was a wonderful friend—at two feet he was capable of inspiring only panic. But he wasn’t going away, and neither were the five other pairs of eyes that were fastened on her, waiting for her to sit up and eat her breakfast. Slowly, nervously, feeling as if she were disrobing in front of him, she did.
    “Very good,” she mumbled around her first mouthful of pancake, awash in syrup, and six smiles beamed back at her. Then five of them vanished in a flurry because it was really rather boring to sit there and watch their mother eat. The sixth, unfortunately, didn’t move an inch.
    “What a surprise,” she said stiltedly into the silence that enveloped them. “Thank you.” She could have been eating file cards for all she knew.
    “You’re welcome.” He looked excessively pleased with himself, and Liv recalled the misery she’d felt when he hadn’t phoned last night.
    “What are you doing here?” She demanded. “Really?”
    “Would you believe that I came for my jeans and sweatshirt?”
    Liv’s hand went to her breast , her face flamed.
    “But I’ve changed my mind.” He grinned. “The shirt looks far better on you than it ever did on me.”
    “Anyhow, that’s not really why I came.” He stuffed his hands into his back pockets and wandered over to stare out the window, away from her. His back was to her and she traced the line of his shoulders, then let her eyes drop lower to the elbows jutting out behind him and the narrow line of his hips. “I came to find me a house,” he said.

 
     
     
     
    Chapter Four
     
     
    “ T o do what? What did