Free Can't Shake You by Molly McLain Page A

snug embrace. “I didn’t bring it up to upset you.”
    Carissa shook her head and pulled back, swiping at her cheeks. “It’s just so much lately. I’m fine. Really, I am.”
    Maddie’s eyes widened, realization dawning. “Sunday will be ten years. I can’t believe I forgot. Oh, sweetie, I am so sorry.”
    She smiled even through the tears. “You knew my mother just as well as I did, Mads. She’d have us running laps around the football field if she saw either of us moping around, feeling sorry for ourselves or for her. ‘Cheerleaders don’t cry, girls—they smile. No matter how badly it hurts.’ ”
    “Oh, God.” Maddie’s simultaneous burst of laughter and tears filled up the room. “I can totally hear her! We should go for a run. In memory of Ms. Cindy.”
    “Nah, I did that this morning. And every other day this week.” Carissa waved a hand in the air and dabbed at her face with a napkin. “Besides, I really am fine. I was thinking I’d go visit and plant some new flowers by her grave in a few weeks. When things with the flip get back on track and I’m all moved.”
    “And I will absolutely come with you. My own mother would shoot me if I didn’t. And about this weekend? Forget it. It was insensitive of me to even ask.”
    Carissa sucked in a slow, thoughtful breath. “No, I think I’d like to tag along. If for no other reason than the distraction. Otherwise I’ll sit home and watch sappy movies. Or worse, go slave away at the flip.”
    Maddie perked up. “Really? Because I think you’re gonna like Andrew.”
    About that... “How certain are you that he’s, you know, bejeweled? And how exactly does that works with a condom?”
    Maddie’s squeal gave Carissa goose bumps. “I have no idea. Let’s Google it.”

Chapter Seven
    Nope, he was definitely not that guy .
    Josh wiped his forehead with the back of his hand and rose slowly—very slowly—from his crouched stance near the sink in the flip’s kitchen. He hooked the tape measure onto his tool belt and cursed the erection he’d had since Carissa, the little vixen, had arrived earlier in a pair of miniscule white shorts and a pale blue tank top that looked like it’d be hard pressed to fit an eight-year-old.
    How the hell he’d ever thought he could pull off working for her without cutting off all circulation to his brain was beyond him. Clearly, he’d already been oxygen deprived when he shook her hand and made the deal.
    “So, what do you think?” She strolled in from the living room where she’d been cleaning up. Leaning against the counter, she picked drywall from beneath her fingernails and the white flecks of dust in her ponytail stood out in contrast to the brown smudges on her arms and legs. The dirt almost matched the chocolate brown lace playing peek-a-boo beneath the strap of her top.
    Even filthy, she was sexy as hell.
    “Josh?” she prompted, looking up at him expectantly.
    Yeah. What’d she ask him again?
    “Uh,” he stuttered, scratching a hand over his hair. He needed a break. And not a long one. Two minutes alone in the bathroom would do the trick. Tops.
    “They’re not salvageable, are they?” A line creased her forehead and she sucked her bottom lip between her teeth. Her concern snapped him back into reality. Her flip. His job. Not his dick.
    He cracked his neck, pulled open a drawer, and pointed to a blackened corner. “That’s mold.”
    Carissa propped her hands on her hips and muttered a curse under her breath. “But a drawer can be replaced, right? We’ll just have to reface it to match.”
    He opened the cupboard below the drawer and pointed again. Then another and another until she closed her eyes and growled.
    “This can’t be happening! Wouldn’t Reed have noticed those spots during the inspection?” she asked, her hands curving around her forehead in frustration.
    He shrugged. “If it was there then, but my guess is it started when Kelly’s guy broke the water pipe. Must’ve got