Up by Five by Erin Nicholas Read Free Book Online Page A

themselves differed. But they were guys. They all had the basics. Entertainment centers, a couch, a recliner, a table with anywhere from one to four chairs for meals. But they didn’t have things hanging on the walls, they didn’t have plants, they didn’t have throw rugs.
    Conner Dixon had throw rugs.
    His living area consisted of a matching sofa, love seat and oversized chair with an ottoman and a beautiful coffee table. A coffee table that was not covered with magazines, remote controls or empty glasses.
    Conner’s held a stack of four books, a set of coasters—Gabby wasn’t sure her brothers even knew what a coaster was—and one remote control. One! Unbelievable.
    The living room was separated from the kitchen by a long, marble-topped bar with three tall stools. The bar held a bowl of fruit. Fruit!
    The kitchen was huge, with a center island—that was not covered with junk mail. Even Gabby’s center kitchen island was covered with junk mail. There were a few dishes propped in the sink and there was a bag of chips and a twelve-pack of bottled water on the counter, but otherwise it was clean.
    And there was a throw rug covering the faux-wood floor in front of the sink.
    “Did your sisters decorate for you?” she asked, facing him again.
    He frowned. “No, why?”
    “Your place is really nice.”
    Even the lighting in the living area was bright but warm, provided by nice lamps that sat on matching end tables.
    Gabby suddenly felt her eyes well with tears. She sniffed. Crap.
    “You okay?” Conner stepped close, his hand closing around her elbow.
    She nodded. Then shook her head.
    “Here.” He pushed her into the chair. He disappeared into the kitchen and returned with a cold bottle of water that he held out.
    She took two big drinks before she gave him a small smile.
    “Sorry. I just got a little choked up.”
    “Your apartment?”
    She nodded. “All of my stuff was hand-me-downs, not worth a quarter at a rummage. None of it matched. But it all had a story. The kitchen table and chairs had been my grandmother’s. My couch was the first thing my uncle bought after he graduated from law school. My bed was the one my mom slept in growing up. My coffee table was from my other uncle’s frat house. It had the best stuff scratched in the surface.”
    She looked up at Conner, feeling stupid. He was sitting on his coffee table, facing her, their knees almost touching.
    “I am really sorry that happened to you, G,” he said quietly. “And I’m sorry that I hesitated for even one second when you said you needed to stay here. Of course you can. However long or short you need.”
    And then there were the sweet Conner moments. They spent most of their time together at work, of course, but she’d seen him calm an older woman after she’d fallen and broken her arm, she’d seen him with kids at the scene of a car accident, she’d seen him go into a condemned building after a litter of kittens.
    “Thanks, Conner.”
    He nodded. “I like it better when you smile.”
    She smiled. “Doesn’t everyone always like it better when other people smile?”
    “Probably. Except IT guys. I think the ones at the hospital like to see people cry. All that ‘have you tried restarting the computer?’ bullshit and using big terms just to make us feel stupid.”
    She grinned.
    “And personal trainers. If you smile around them, they make you do double reps.”
    She chuckled.
    “But dammit, Gabby, I really like it when you smile. When you smile it means things are okay. I always look for your smile at scenes. Once I see it I can breathe deep again.”
    Her smile died and she felt her eyes widen. “What?”
    He nodded. “I didn’t realize it until just now. But there’s always this churning in my gut when we’re at a scene. Adrenaline, all of that. And it doesn’t stop until I see you smile.”
    She swallowed hard. “I don’t always smile at a scene.” There were too many times that the smile didn’t come for several