Sizzling(Buchanans, Book 3)(57) by Susan Mallery
“Get it out, get it out,” she said quickly.
“Okay. Look up. Keep your eye open.”
Then it was gone. Dr. Grayson handed her a tissue. “So maybe contacts aren’t for you.”
“There are a lot of great styles in glasses.”
Lori blinked several times to clear the tears, then looked down at her glasses. Maybe it was time to admit defeat.
Five minutes later she walked out into the waiting room. Madeline stood up.
“You’re not wearing contacts.”
“I’m not a good candidate.”
“Oh. Okay. Now what?”
Lori pulled the appointment card out of her back pocket and tried not to hyperventilate.
“Now I get my corneas burned off by a stupid laser.”
A TRUTH OF BASEBALL IS that the pitcher is going to get hit by a few balls. Either throws that go wild or an unexpected low hit that flies right down the middle. Reid had taken his share of knocks and he remembered how each one hurt like hell. The ones that hit him in the gut had pushed the air out of his lungs.
He felt like that now—as if he’d been sucker punched. He wondered if he would ever catch his breath again. Sure he’d done the right thing, but damn.
He walked into the kitchen and saw Lori making Gloria’s lunch. She turned, smiled, then put down the knife she’d been using and hurried over to him.
“What’s wrong? Do you feel okay? Are you sick?”
“You look awful.” She touched his forehead. “You don’t have a temperature, but you’re a little pale.”
“I’m fine. Just getting used to the fact that I gave away one hundred and twenty-five million dollars.”
Her eyes widened. “You did what?”
“Gave it away. I’m starting a foundation. Its mission is to help get kids involved with sports. We’ll give away equipment, build play fields, send kids to camp, that sort of thing. At least that’s what we’re working out right now. The details.”
Lori touched his arm. “Impressive. That’s a lot of money.”
“I’m just getting that.”
She smiled. “So are you poor now? Do you have to get a job?”
“I’m trying to do the right thing, but I’m not crazy. I have money left. Besides, I have a job. I’ve quit the sports bar and now I’ll be working at the foundation.”
“No. I’m hiring experts for that. I’m going to be the front man. I was talking to Cal about it. I want to do something. Those letters…” He shook his head. “They haunt me.”
She squeezed his arm. “It wasn’t your fault.”
“It was my picture and fake signature that got sent to those kids. When I think of how disappointed they must have been…” He didn’t want to think about it, but he couldn’t seem to stop.
“I don’t want it to happen again,” he said firmly. “I’m going to make sure I get it right. I’m a celebrity of sorts. I can use that. I’ll go out there and meet people. I’ll get other donations, bring focus to important causes. Who knows—maybe I can even make a difference.”
Even saying the words felt uncomfortable. While he’d tried to be a decent guy, he’d really only ever cared about himself and his family. Taking on the world’s troubles seemed daunting. So he would start small. One problem at a time.
“You’ll be great,” she said. “Maybe this was your destiny all along. Maybe you were supposed to end up here, doing this kind of work.”
He wasn’t a big believer in destiny, but maybe she was right. But if all this was his destiny, what did that make her?
He stared into Lori’s eyes, liking the way the colors swirled together. She was so beautiful, he thought. Beautiful and bossy and sexy as hell.
He dropped his gaze to her mouth and thought about kissing her. Kissing Lori was a great way to spend a day. Of course there was the issue of Gloria, and Lori being in the middle of preparing lunch, but…
He stared more intently. Something was different. Something was…
“You’re not wearing your glasses,” he said.
She nodded, her mouth pulling into a slight smile. “I know.”
“We’re not compatible.”
He winced. “I thought you were never going to do that.”
“I changed my mind. It wasn’t bad at all. They gave me a tranquilizer and I let them burn away. The whole thing took about fifteen minutes. There isn’t any downtime at all. Madeline even watched.”
He grimaced. “Eye surgery? No, thanks. When did you have this done?”
“And you’re okay?”
“I’m great. I can see perfectly.” Her smile broadened. “It’s kind of a miracle. And no more glasses.”
He sensed he was on dangerous territory. If he said or did the wrong thing, he could really piss her off.
“I’m glad you’re happy,” he said carefully. “You looked great before and you look great now.”
“You’re so politically correct.”
“I don’t want you to beat me.”
She laughed. “When have I ever beaten you?”
“You were very disapproving when we first met.”
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