Her Fifth Husband? by Dixie Browning Read Free Book Online

“There, that better?”
    Wordlessly, she nodded, feeling her cheeks burn. The curse of a redhead’s thin skin. “This is so embarrassing.”
    â€œNo need to be embarrassed, it could happen to anybody.”
    If she read him right—and she was good at reading people—he might as well have added, Anybody crazy enough to wear skyscraper shoes lashed to her ankles. Was there such a thing as breakaway ankle straps?
    â€œHow’s the hand?” His were on his hips. Tanned, capable hands planted firmly on narrow masculine hips.
    Just quit thinking what you’re thinking! “It’s fine.” She looked down at the fingers she’d jammed. Her newly exposed natural nails looked like naked little orphans.
    â€œSit tight, I’ll be back with your ice pack in a minute.”
    â€œNo hurry. I think I’ll get up and tap dance on the coffee table.”
    He shot her a quick grin as he headed for the kitchen. Distracted, she almost forgot her misery. He had a nicesmile. He had a really nice backside, which she noticed only because it was more or less at her eye level as he left the room. Strong legs, too—at least he hadn’t dropped her when he was carrying her down all those steps.
    Not that she would have fallen too far, the way she’d clung to him with both arms.
    â€œPeas or corn, either one will do fine,” she called after him.
    â€œGot it.”
    â€œYou do this a lot?” he asked again a few moments later as he shaped a bag of frozen peas around her bandaged ankle. “Use ice packs, I mean.”
    â€œHeadaches,” she said, and then snapped her mouth shut. Just because he happened to be there when she’d needed a hand—just because he’d driven her to the hospital and waited for her, stopped at the drive-in window of the pharmacy while her prescription was being filled, taken care of her car for her and then driven her home after stopping to get barbecue—that didn’t mean he needed to know her entire life history.
    On the other hand, there was Lily, who definitely needed a man if Faylene could be believed. This one just might fill the bill if he happened to be available. The fact that he wasn’t wearing a wedding ring didn’t mean he was single. Some men didn’t.
    â€œWon’t your wife be worried?” Well, that was really subtle, wasn’t it?
    â€œI called the office to say I might be late.”
    Was that a yes or a no? Even if he was single, he might not be right for Lily. Men who stayed single past their midthirties were usually confirmed bachelors. She’d read that somewhere.
    On the other hand, Muddy Landing’s primo matchmakers never actually forced a couple to the altar. They simply engineered meetings between needy people in a setting that ensured they’d have to spend a little time together. Not all relationships had to end in marriage. The truth was, marriage itself ended many a good relationship, as both Sasha and Marty could confirm. Between them they’d gone through six husbands, Marty’s current bridegroom not included.
    â€œNice pictures,” Jake said, glancing around the cluttered living room.
    The rest of her house was even worse. Her personal art collection, which could best be called eclectic, hung in a haphazard pattern on the lime-washed cedar paneling—haphazard because whenever she added to it, she was forced to shift things to make room. Stacked on the floor were nine framed reproductions for two offices she was presently doing.
    â€œFood and a cold drink coming up,” Jake said.
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    In the kitchen, humming under his breath, Jake took a moment to get his bearings. The lady sure did like color. Nothing matched except for a couple of the appliances. One red wall, a couple of pink ones. No curtains at the window, but a bunch of vines hanging down both sides that looked more like sweet potatoes than flowers. But then, he was no