In A Heartbeat by Donna MacMeans Read Free Book Online Page B

balanced on the other knee, just as if they were in Wilson’s office. The triangle formed by his legs reminded her of her recent contact with that very region. Residual embarrassment collided with a bit of yearning warming her far beyond anything controlled by a thermostat.
    “Look, Hank—”
    “You didn’t tell your mother about your ankle.” Oreo sat by his side, content to have Hank’s fingers scratch her between the ears. Traitor , she thought. Hank patted the cushions next to him, inviting her to join him on the couch. She hobbled over to the opposite wing chair instead.
    “If I had even hinted about hurting my ankle, she’d be packing to return to Ohio before I could hang up.” She eased onto the cushions and relaxed. The chair felt good after the earlier ordeal on the steps.
    “Is there something wrong with that?” Hank’s brows rose quizzically. “Your family obviously cares a great deal about you.”
    “I know they love me, but that kind of love can be smothering.” She placed her injured foot on the coffee table. “All my life they’ve waited on me. Protected me. Never let me do for myself. Well, I’m not sick anymore. It’s time, past time, that I stand on my own two feet.” She glanced at her wrapped ankle. The irony didn’t escape her. She glanced at Hank half-expecting him to laugh, but he didn’t. He waited for her to continue.
    Before she could, her stomach rumbled, announcing to the world that she’d missed a meal. Hank shifted his position on the couch.
    “You can’t stay here by yourself, not with that ankle.”
    She started to protest but he held up his hand. “I know you’re not comfortable calling your family. Is there someone else? A neighbor maybe? A friend?”
    “Mrs. Kravitz next door is seventy-five years old. She’d have more trouble managing the steps and Oreo than I would. You’ve met my other neighbor. Obviously Mr. Thomas…” she smiled briefly. “Walter… wouldn’t be comfortable with Oreo.” She thought of Nicki, her best friend, but she was away for the weekend. “I can’t think of anyone else.”
    “Well, that settles it,” he said, patting one of her mother’s quilted throw pillows.
    “Settles what?”
    “This couch feels pretty comfortable. I’ll stay here.”
    “No! You can’t,” she gasped.
    “Why not? You need someone to help you. You won’t come to my house where I can see to you in private. So I have no choice but to stay here.” He kicked off his shoes then stretched to his full length on the couch. “Yes, this will do nicely.”
    “But my neighbors,” she argued. “People will see you. I told you I could lose my job.”
    “Are you afraid I’ll take advantage of you?” He smiled and liquid warmth eased through her body at the suggestion. “Relax.” His dimple deepened. “I’m involved with someone else, remember?”
    Elizabeth Everett, how could she forget? The image of the tall, dark model formed in her memory. Angie supposed this was his way of tactfully suggesting that she was not his type. Indeed, the exact opposite of his type. An unexpected disappointment tugged at her heart.
    “And,” he continued, tossing a pillow from one hand to the other as if it were a football. “When I answer the phone as I will, I won’t hesitate to tell the person on the other end about your foot or my identity. Even if it’s Falstaff himself.”
    Her throat constricted; her lips went dry. But with his gaze fixed so steadily on her face, she refused to moisten them.
    He smiled, his eyes claiming victory. “So you see, Angel—”
    “Angela,” she corrected. He merely nodded before continuing.
    “You can dig out some guest towels, or pack a weekender.” He paused. A wicked smile tilted his lips, sending an anticipatory shiver tingling her spine. “The choice is yours.”

Chapter Five
    “SEE WHAT I mean? Nobody can find you here. Not even Falstaff.”
    Hank guided his Lexus past a brick column supporting the numbers 1107. Even