Free Goes down easy: Roped into romance by Alison Kent Page A

nap while Kachina handled the shop. But I couldn’t sleep—” she shrugged, tossed the towel to the countertop and shook out her hair “—and I thought a shower might help.”
    He wasn’t certain if she meant it would help her sleep or help her stay awake. He wasn’t certain what to say because he hadn’t expected to find her here, and because she smelled so damn good. Like oils and incense. “I can leave, or just get a hotel room.”
    “No. Stay here, please. I like the idea of the place not being empty.” The teakettle whistled, and she glanced over, the smile returning. “Thanks. Do you want a cup?”
    “Sure,” he said, moving aside as she took over the small kitchen.
    She lifted the kettle from the heat, and quickly grabbed two mugs from the cupboard and teabags from the pantry. Steam rose when she poured the water, deepening the color on her face. He leaned against the counter behind him, hooked his palms over the edge and watched her.
    “How did things go with the reporter?” she asked as she emptied the kettle and returned it to the stove.
    He shrugged. “Not so good.”
    “You didn’t learn anything you can use?”
    “The only thing I learned is that she doesn’t have time to give. Only to receive.”
    “How so?”
    “She’s got a great information flow going. All of it incoming. I’m lucky I got the time of day.”
    “Well, that sucks,” Perry said, spooning sugar into her mug, offering him the same. He nodded, and she stirred before handing his mug to him. “What are you going to do now?”
    “Do you have an Internet connection? Or a phone jack I can use to dial up?”
    “I have cable, and this place is wired like you wouldn’t believe. The previous owners were connectivity freaks.” She pointed toward the main room. “You can set up on the desk in the living room, or on the dining room table. Either one.”
    “Great. What about a subscription to the Times-Picayune? I want to dig through the archives and see if our reporter ever wrote anything on Eckton Computing or on Dayton Eckhardt before his move to Texas.”
    “Here’s my login,” she said, jotting the information onto a notepad hanging on the fridge. “And I’ll be out of your way—” the ringing of the phone cut her off, and she smiled “—as soon as I get that.”
    Jack left his mug on the counter, returned to the front door for the laptop case packed inside his duffel bag. He decided the dining room light would be best, and started setting the computer up on the table.
    He could hear Perry’s, “Sure. No, it’s not a problem. I’ll see you tomorrow,” coming from the kitchen. And since his was the business of snooping, he listened without remorse to her side of the conversation, curious about what wasn’t a problem, and who it was she’d be seeing.
    She walked into the dining room a few minutes later, bringing him the tea he’d left in the other room. He took the mug from her hand as she settled into the chair opposite the one he’d chosen. He watched her sip at her drink; she did so nervously, flexing her fingers around the mug, refusing to meet his gaze.
    “What’s up?” he finally asked, when he realized she wasn’t going to come clean on her own.
    She toyed with the charm at her neck. “That was Della.”
    “She feeling okay?”
    Perry nodded. “She’s fine. Better than fine, actually.”
    “How so?”
    “It’s Book’s night off. He’s going to stay over and take care of her.”
    Ah. He’d wondered about that. “So you don’t have to.”
    “I don’t think that’s the reason he’s staying, but no, I don’t have to go back.”
    “Which means I should pack up and see about that hotel.”
    “Not necessarily.”
    He didn’t say anything. Just lifted his drink and waited for her to offer him exactly what he wanted.
    “You’re already set up here,” she finally said, waving her hand toward his laptop. “And I’ve actually spent a lot of nights on the couch. If it’s not too