Love Somebody Like You by Susan Fox Read Free Book Online Page A

noted the way the fading sun gleamed off the hints of chestnut in his hair, and saw concern in those beautiful brown eyes. “I did have one. She had to leave because of a personal issue.”
    â€œSo you’re hiring?”
    Embarrassment and the habit of privacy kept her from sharing her financial woes. “I haven’t found anyone suitable yet. It has to be the right person, because they need to live here.”
    â€œHere? You mean they share the house?”
    She shook her head. It was tough to let anyone, even Corrie or Dave’s family, cross the doorstep of her house. No way could she have someone else living in it. “There’s a little apartment in the loft of the barn. My assistant gets a free room and utilities.” Because Sally couldn’t afford to pay more than minimum wage, she needed someone who was willing to accept a free room as part of the compensation package. Now, though, unless she got some new business soon, she couldn’t even manage minimum wage.
    â€œSounds like a decent arrangement. For the right person.”
    â€œCorrie liked it. And she was perfect. She loved horses and riding. She’s a hard worker, quick to learn, strong, and never complains. Her previous job was at a plant nursery, and this spring she put in the vegetable garden.” Which, sadly, Sally wouldn’t have the time to keep up.
    â€œShe does sound ideal.”
    â€œHard to replace.” Perhaps best of all, Corrie had been private and self-sufficient, like Sally. So much so that Sally didn’t even know the nature of the personal matter that had called the younger woman away. It wasn’t that Sally didn’t care, but you couldn’t start a personal conversation without being expected to reciprocate. And talking about herself was something she didn’t—couldn’t—do.
    â€œYou been dating?” Ben asked. “Have some guy to help you out sometimes?”
    â€œDating? No, not at all.” Nor would she. Ever. “I do have a couple of friends who come by from time to time, but they’re away right now.”
    â€œMakes it tough.”
    â€œI manage.”
    â€œFeel like managing some pie?”
    â€œMost definitely.” In her weekly orders from the grocery store, Sally bought whichever fruit was cheapest. Apples, bananas, oranges, typically. One or two a day, that was her dessert allotment. “Want some coffee with it?” He’d only drunk the one beer, and she hoped he didn’t move on to a second. As for her, she’d had a third of her bottle and, though she’d have loved to drain it, she would pour the rest down the sink.
    â€œCoffee sounds great.”
    When she rose and took their plates and forks, he stacked the now-empty takeout containers and got up, too. “I’ll give you a hand.”
    â€œNo!” Realizing how abrupt that had sounded, she added, “Sit and enjoy the view.”
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    A high-pitched whine and a sting on his right forearm had Ben slapping at a mosquito, an unthinking response that sent pain radiating to his broken shoulder. Wincing, he sank back into his chair and watched Sally pile the stacked containers on top of the dirty plates. As she’d instructed, he turned his gaze toward the view where a doe and an adolescent fawn grazed, illuminated by rosy light as the sun dropped toward the hills.
    Was he imagining things, or did Sally not want him going into her house? Maybe she’d been too busy to do housework and was embarrassed. Women got like that.
    Or maybe she just wanted a few moments’ privacy. Talking about her family had clearly upset her. Ben sure wished he knew what was going on there. Sally’d always been such a friendly, outgoing person and he’d assumed she came from a loving, supportive family.
    She returned with several metal cans, which she stacked around the railing of the deck. Then she took a match to each, and he realized they were