Free Falling For You - January Cove Book 3 by Rachel Hanna Page B

As much as she was lonely and would love someone to be there to comfort her, she knew her focus had to be on her son right now. And the truth was that no man in his right mind would want to take on a teenage boy who was acting the way Leo was. She was destined to be alone until he was grown, she thought herself.
     
    She turned on the 80s music channel and started bopping around the coffee shop. Something about dancing to Madonna and Michael Jackson made her happy. Even though she knew the glass windows would allow people to see her dancing, she didn't really care. After all, she was off duty and didn't have anything to prove to anyone. Besides, the lights were turned down low enough that hopefully no one would notice her horrific dance moves. The downtown area was a virtual ghost town the day after Thanksgiving anyway, so she decided to let loose and have fun.
     
    She dragged the ladder from the back storage room and set it up against the far wall. She couldn't help but dance as she heard some of her favorite songs including Thriller. She was dancing around on the ladder and swooshing the paint up against the wall having a good time when she felt someone looking at her through the window.
     
    Oh crap, she thought to herself.
     
    She turned around to find Jackson Parker was standing in the window with a sly smile on his face waving at her. She smiled back and went to step down off the ladder but slipped and fell right on her butt in the open paint container at the foot of the ladder. Jackson looked horrified in the window, especially since he couldn't open the door and help her because it was locked.
     
    She waved her hand at him and said she was okay before she ambled up to her feet, paint dripping down her jeans. This was not the way that she wanted to impress a man. And this is exactly why she didn't date. She was obviously out of practice. Her dance moves might actually have been better than her dating skills, and that thought scared her.
     
    She walked carefully over to the door, dripping paint behind her onto the nice hardwood floors. It made her sick to think of what she was going to have to do with those floors just to make them look nice again.
     
    She opened the door and Jackson immediately stepped in and grabbed onto her so that she didn't fall down.
     
    "Are you okay? I'm so sorry that I made you fall!" he said pushing the door closed behind them and locking it.
     
    She looked down at the floor with blue paint splattered all over it. "It's not your fault. I had music going and I wasn't paying attention … "
     
    "Come on, let me help you get this cleaned up before it damages the floor."
     
    "I think it's too late. Hardwood floors and paint. I don't think those mix very well," she said shrugging her shoulders and covering her face with her hands. Still, Jackson ran behind the counter and got some wet paper towels and immediately got down on his hands and knees and started wiping up the paint. Luckily, it was coming up fairly easily because it was still so wet. She watched him for a moment, thinking how nice it was that there was a man in her life right now who was willing to help her. Even if he had caused her to divert her attention and fall off the ladder.
     
    "You don't have to do that. I can … " she said trying to reach down and take the paper towels from his hand. He looked up at her, his eyes dark with seriousness, and shook his head.
     
    "Rebecca, you have to let people help you sometimes. Go change your clothes, and I will get this all cleaned up. Okay?" he said. She knew that he wasn't asking a question, but giving her a demand. As she was okay with that. “ Oh, and you have a little paint right here... ” he said softly as he stood up and reached out, touching her right cheek. She froze in place, her breath seemingly caught in her throat.
     
    “ Thanks, ” she whispered trying not to let him see her trembling. What was he doing to her? He smiled slowly, and lowered his hand. “ I ’ ll