Fall Guy by Liz Reinhardt Read Free Book Online

deluge of paper spiraling in every direction isn't what makes my heart drop.
    Winchester isn't here.
    I edge a pile of documents aside with my toe and consider that he might just be late. I put my back to a huge filing cabinet and push off with my feet to move it and rationalize that maybe last week was just a fluke. There is no reason to expect we'd be assigned together every single time.
    The cabinet slides against the wall and gives me a tiny square of space to work in, and I pick up a few manila folders and put them back down, shuffle some papers into a heap, and stare at the never-ending, impossibly overwhelming whirlpool threatening to suck me down. I put my hand to my mouth, praying I won't turn sissy, cry my eyes out, and make all my lovingly applied eye makeup roll down my face.
    A light knock at the window glass makes me jump and skid on the files and folders, and I can't help the upswing in my heart when I see his face, all soft blue eyes and wry smile.
    I throw up the sash and say, "Hey, slacker. You having a picnic out there?"
    "I'm on weeding duty." He leans in and looks around, making an eyeball pitstop on me that fine-tooth-combs from the top of my hair to my glitter-red-painted toenails. "I thought I had it bad today. They stuck you with some crazy pile of shit."
    "I agree. At least I'm not in the heat."
    Not that the stuffy little room with its tiny, rusty fan is much better than being outside under the blistering sun. And not saying I wouldn't be happy to sweat under said blistering sun if I had Winchester Youngblood to keep me company.
    After our paint fight last week, the hours we spent together slipped by too fast, and by the end, I felt like a little kid regretting the dip of the sunset at the reluctant end of a perfect day.
    It was clear he was attracted to me, sneaky as he thought he was with all those long looks he threw my way when he assumed I wasn't looking, like he was a big bad wolf and I was some fairytale character flouncing on his path. But I could also feel that he was pulling back, trying to stomp that out. And that's why I let my temper cool when he acted like such a lowlife douchebag . Once I thought about it, I realized it was all an act and wondered why.
    And the only answer that makes sense is that he felt a spark between us , and it scared him.
    But nothing scares me. Not since I fucked every single thing in my life up anyway. What do I have to be scared about?
    Well, maybe he scares me a little. I have a shitty track record with guys, and there is this gnawing fear that this is just another potential disaster, which is why I lied to Brenna. Or tried to lie to Brenna. But that little prickle of fear isn't enough to keep me from hurling myself towards this whole potential craziness with complete abandon.
    It feels scarily good to freefall when I'm with Winch. I've been treading carefully for months now, and it goes against my natural grain. Winch is someone who makes me happy to attempt dipping my toe into crazy waters of possible romance again .
    "I don't mind working out here." He jerks a thumb at the ground, choked with weeds. "I'll hammer this out in no time. My grandfather used to make us weed as punishment when we were kids. I got pretty damn quick." He glances around at the hills and valleys and oceans of paper and files on every surface of the floor. "You're gonna be swamped. Wanna hand when I'm done?"
    "Are you implying that you need to do my work and yours?"
    I lean out the window, and our faces are so close I can see the starbursts of navy around his pupils.
    He twines a piece of my hair around his finger. He tries to look nonchalant, but the tight dr aw of his lips hints at all the tension he's working to hide. His voice drops and he leans his face so close to mine, I can smell the sweet mint on his breath.
    "I'm implying that if I have to kill my self to get through this damn weeding so I can come inside and spend the day with you, it would be cool if you'd let me."
    And