With Strings Attached by Kelly Jamieson Read Free Book Online Page A

inside.
    Damn. He should be happy they liked each other and they were all having fun.
    He got called away to take some drink orders and was unreasonably annoyed. As soon as he had a chance, he returned to where they sat, served them more beers, spent time chatting and joking. Then Corey flipped open her phone to check the time. “I have to go,” she said. “I have to get up early to get to the farmers’ market.”
    “Shit,” Matt said. “You okay to drive, Dylan?” He’d served him a lot of beers, not even thinking about him driving Corey home.
    Dylan grimaced. “Damn. Probably not.” He glanced at Corey. “You had as many as I did.”
    “Yeah.”
    “I’ll drive you guys home,” Matt said. “Things are under control here. We can get your car tomorrow.”
    So they all piled into Matt’s Jeep parked out back. Not that he’d planned this, but he was glad Dylan and Corey weren’t leaving together. Alone. After all the sexy innuendos and all the drinks, who knew what would happen.
    So what if it did? Thoughts kept going around in his brain, confusing him, even as he made lighthearted conversation with them on the way to Corey’s place. He dropped her off first, made sure she got inside safely, then headed for home with Dylan. Why the hell was he feeling so mixed up about Dylan and Corey?
    It probably meant nothing. Corey was fun to be with and so was Dylan. Corey liked to be friends with guys, as evidenced by her friendship with him. It didn’t necessarily mean anything. Although she and Matt had ended up in bed together. And she really liked sex. And…
    Whatever was developing between Dylan and Corey, whether friendship or something else, was none of his business. He had to stop thinking about it. But that was easier said than done.

Chapter Four
    The next morning, Corey rose early, carefully loaded all her precious, painstakingly packaged chocolates into the trunk of her beat up old Toyota, then slammed down the trunk lid. She dusted her hands off, pulled the keys from the back pocket of her jeans and slid into the driver’s seat. When she turned the key in the ignition…nothing.
    She tried it again. And again. Click. Click. Click. Nothing.
    Fuck! She rested her head against the steering wheel for a moment. Now what was she supposed to do?
    Goddamn this fucking useless piece of shit car! It was old, it kept breaking down on her and she didn’t have enough money to pay for major repairs. How the hell was she supposed to get to the farmers’ market?
    It was her best source of revenue right now. Until she had enough money to open her own store, the farmers’ market was the only way she had of reaching out to new customers. Yeah, she’d built up a client base, had enough special orders coming in that she’d been able to quit her waitressing job, but she needed cash flow, cash to be able to rent a storefront, to buy more equipment, and cash to live off. And if she didn’t get to the farmers’ market, she’d have no cash this week.
    Well, next to no cash, anyway. She had the money she was saving, but now she was going to have to dip into it yet again to fix this damn car.
    She blinked away the tears that stung the corners of her eyes, tried to start the car one more time, but it didn’t happen. She knew nothing about cars, dammit, so it was crazy to get out and lift the hood and stare helplessly into the engine, but she did it anyway. She bit her bottom lip. It couldn’t be the battery. She’d replaced it a couple of months ago. And the engine wasn’t making any noise whatsoever. Just dead. The starter? The alternator? Hell, she had no clue.
    She blew out a long breath, ran a hand through her hair, shaking it down behind her back. What could she do? Think. Think.
    She could take the bus. The bus ran to the park at the south end of the beach where the farmers’ market was held every Saturday and Sunday morning. She wouldn’t be able to take all her chocolates, but she could take some. Somehow. Her