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

short, you’re welcome to use it. Or I can sleep there, and you can have the bed.”
    “I don’t have to stay, Perry. Have duffel bag, willtravel, and all that. I can plug in at a coffeehouse and, if I can’t find a place, bunk in the back of the Yukon.” He’d done it often enough that it wasn’t even a hassle. “It’s not a problem. Trust me.”
    “I do trust you. And I’d rather you stayed here with me.”

6

    D ELLA LET her hand rest on the receiver now cradled in its base, pleased that both of her calls had turned out so well. The timing had been iffy on the first; she wasn’t sure, when she finally tried to reach Book, if it would be too late to put her plan into motion.
    When she’d heard Jack enter the shop to pick up Perry’s key from Kachina, Della had made her move. Still at his desk in operations, Book verified that he was off work the next day. Her only moment of panic had come after asking him if he’d like to spend the evening with her. At home. Alone.
    His silence had gone on too long. She’d listened to the void, finally hearing him clear his throat and breathe before accepting. They’d talked for a few minutes more, and he’d agreed to stop by around seven. He’d even offered to pick up Chinese, a typically thoughtful gesture. She’d thanked him, certain that nerves would keep her from eating a single bite.
    Months ago, she’d given him a key to the front door of the shop as a safeguard, should Perry ever be out of touch. Tonight, the key would come in handy. He could let himself in, and she could stay off her foot. Thingscouldn’t be coming together any better than if she’d plotted this evening for weeks.
    Her conversation with Book had given Jack time to make the short drive to Court du Chaud. She’d waited a bit longer in case he’d run into traffic, made any stops or been otherwise delayed. Then she’d dialed her niece’s number and made her case. Perry hadn’t minded the change of plans at all, and that made Della smile.
    As a rule, she was not a busybody—even as she recognized that was drawing a fine line between truth and fiction, considering her entire livelihood was based on what she knew about other people’s affairs. She kept her client information confidential, the same as if she were an attorney or physician.
    The difference tonight was that her interference was an effort at making amends.
    Hobbling around her sitting room, putting things in order, Della wondered if there had ever been another woman less suited to being a mother. The skills that it took had never been in her repertoire. She wasn’t sure when she’d first recognized that raising a family was not a lifestyle that suited her situation, but it ended up making no difference. She’d been twenty-eight when Perry had come to her as a frightened child, lost and alone, and nothing else had mattered.
    They’d made their way together, Della following to the letter her late brother’s instructions for his daughter’s rearing, instead of relying on instincts that had never let her down. She hadn’t paid any heed to Perry’s wishes to be like the other kids.
    The result, all these years later, was that they were both products of circumstances into which they’d been thrown, rather than the individuals, the women, they would have become had their lives not been so inexorably intertwined.
    It was an interesting look at the human condition, wondering what path each would have chosen had tragic events not determined their way. Her only regret was how insular their world had become as she’d looked after Perry, and Perry, in turn, had looked after her.
    And, foolish or not, Della had always put her niece’s needs above her own. Which was why she hadn’t yet allowed herself to admit her feelings to Book Franklin.
    She’d always told herself that if Perry were settled, if Perry didn’t depend on her, if Perry this and that, if Perry a dozen different things, then exploring a relationship with Book would