Read Surge (St. Martin Family Saga: Emergency Responders) Book 3: St. Martin Family Saga: Emergency Responders for Free Online Page A

defensively.”
    “I want to use my dad’s credit card to get your car repaired.”
    “Absolutely not. You know how I feel about that. Now”—he squeezed her thigh—“I would love to stay here and argue with you all day, but I really must go. I more than love you.” He kissed her deeply.
    “Be safe Cracker Jack. If you die, I die. Remember?”
    “I remember how crazy you are.”
    “Crazy in love with you,” she whispered and nuzzled behind his ear.
    “Screw it. I need to be inside of you now.”
    They made slow, deep love—all encompassing until she couldn’t tell where he ended and she began.
    ≈
    At the restaurant, Mr. Moretti nursed a hangover and was crankier than usual. At six thirty in the morning she wasn’t in the mood to deal with his nastiness.
    “What the fuck is this shit?” He held menus high in the air above her head.
    She frowned and snatched the menus from his grip. “These are the new menus Lucian designed. They turned out quite nicely. She smiled at the memory of how proud Lucian had been when he’d showed them to her.”
    “What the fuck was wrong with the old menus? Where is that cocksucker?”
    “Stop!” She tugged him by the sleeve into his office. He reluctantly followed.
    Shutting the door she said, “Mr. Moretti, what’s wrong with you? Without your son and his skills in the kitchen you are nothing. A new menu was overdue. It’s fresh and includes new dishes. Did you even see the scene he drew by hand on the back cover?”
    His brow furrowed and he massaged his scalp with stubby fingers.
    She hovered at the office door about to leave, but then turned back. “And one more thing Mr. Moretti.” He looked up at her from his office chair. “The next time I hear you call him that name I’ll be turning in my resignation.”
    “He’s gay, Clara. What the fuck would you have me call him?” He ran a hand through his greasy sparse hair.
    “Lucian or son.”
    “Get out of here and take these with you.” She took the menus and placed them at the hostess station. She retraced the steps to his office this time bearing a cup of coffee and a Danish. He lifted his head when she entered the room with the steaming brew. The pain she saw in his eyes froze her in place.
    “Mr. Moretti, I realize it has been hard, but it’s been hard for Lucian too. Mrs. Moretti would have wanted to see you two happy and connected. Love him while you are still able to.” She placed the breakfast on his desk. “Let me know when you’re ready for a second cup.” She wrapped her arms around his round form. His arms slowly rationalizing they too could reach out to her. Finally he embraced her.
    She left him in his office and wiped the tears from her face before returning to the kitchen to get started on preparing the cheese exactly how Lucian had taught her.
    Around eight thirty she left to attend her philosophy class. It was not a class she enjoyed. Actually, she didn’t enjoy any of her classes. She’d much rather be enrolled at some culinary school, but that would have required moving away from Jackson. It didn’t matter anyway because she had specific interests. She liked to talk about food. It may have started at the small cheese counter at the Italian shop, but her culinary interest had grown. In Austin, Texas she’d visited a cheese shop that had varieties of cheese from around the globe. Over one hundred cheeses had been on display and she and Jackson spent an hour in the shop tasting all the different varieties.
    She realized she’d been sitting in class for thirty minutes and not heard a word. She felt her phone buzz in her pocket and discreetly fished it out.
    Sunday off from hospital and FD. Calling it National Clara Day.
    Sounds nice. It’s Dad’s birthday.
    Right. I’ll drive you to the estate.
    Told everybody I’d be there Saturday.
    I’ll make it happen Bug. Love you.
    It was around three o’clock when she returned home. She settled in to study for an anatomy exam on the