Free Goes down easy: Roped into romance by Alison Kent

their senior year.
    He hadn’t been the one whose opinions were never sought, whose questions were never considered, whose needs had taken a back seat. Who’d been as invisible as Sugar Blues’ ghost. Janie had been sick for a very long time. Jack had ceased to exist in his parents’ eyes, way before the final move.
    Staying in Texas wasn’t a show of rebellion. It was a show of standing on his own, of being the adult he’d been told for years he needed to be. His father had refused to allow it. He would move from Austin or there would be no money for school. Jack had been left little choice, his longhorn dream punted to the far side of a four-year enlistment.
    Four years, that became eight that became twelve. Janie had died during the fifth year. She’d been only sixteen to his twenty-two. He hadn’t seen his parents since attending her funeral and standing alone at the rear of the church. Even now, thinking of her life cutso short, of her suffering…he choked, swallowed, shook off the emotion. He could never take back that he hadn’t been there for her. And sharing his regrets wouldn’t do anyone any good.
    If that was what Della had seen…well, whatever it was, he hoped she’d keep her secrets to herself and not share them with Perry.
    Pity was the last thing he wanted.
    He hadn’t seen either woman when he’d dropped back by Sugar Blues to finish up with the door. It had taken him the better part of the afternoon to install the dead bolt and put up a coat of primer. He could’ve done more, but rain was threatening, and he was beyond beat.
    Kachina Leaping Water, the Native American seer Della employed, had been the one to give him the key to Perry’s townhouse when he’d gone into the shop to find her. He hadn’t needed directions; he remembered both Court du Chaud and Café Eros. He’d just wanted to make sure the offer to bunk at her place was still good.
    He could easily have found a room at one of the Quarter’s many bed-and-breakfasts. Or even at a hotel. Thing of it was, he liked the idea of sticking close to Perry. A sort of sticking that had nothing to do with what her aunt did or did not know about him or his case or his background, and had everything to do with that kiss.
    He climbed down from his Yukon, grabbed his duffel bag from the back seat and headed for her door. He was curious to see if she’d decked out her home tolook like Sugar Blues, with all its crystals, candles and statues of fairies that looked as if they should be baking cookies in an oven inside a tree.
    The key in the lock, he pushed her door and let it swing open while he stood in the entrance taking it all in. He should’ve known. No beads or Buddha figurines for this woman.
    Scarves draped over lampshades turned the walls into a rainbow. He could barely see her sofa, buried as it was beneath a mountain of pillows. And there wasn’t an inch of wall not covered with art prints and posters.
    “Jack, oh,” Perry yelped from the hallway door, drawing his gaze that way. “I wasn’t expecting you yet.”
    Obviously. She wasn’t wearing anything but a towel. He reached for the doorknob. “I’ll come back later.”
    “No, wait.” She reached out, halting him with the hand not holding the towel to her chest. “I was going to put on the kettle for tea. Let me dress. I’ll be right back. Don’t go anywhere.”
    Nodding, he dropped his duffel bag at his feet. “Sure. I’ll wait.”
    The look that came over her face, the light that sparkled in the dark centers of her eyes, her smile that spread until her cheeks plumped like red apples, all of it should have warned him away.
    Instead, he headed into the kitchen, filled her teakettle from the spigot on the refrigerator door and set it on the stove while he waited.
    She was back in minutes, toweling water from herhair and wearing a black T-shirt and a skirt with more colors than he could count. Not surprisingly, her feet were bare.
    “Sorry about that. I came home to