Free Have Gown, Need Groom by Rita Herron

steadily, pounding with an intensity that spoke of strength and determination. They moved slowly, awkwardly up the steps. He leaned against her slightly while digging inside the envelope for the key. When he finally opened the door, he tried to push away from her, determined to prove he could stand on his own two feet, but Hannah refused to release him until they stood beside the couch, a thread-bare plaid sofa that looked as if it had come straight from Goodwill.
    “I rented the place furnished,” he said, as if he read the questions in her eyes. “It’s easier to pick up and leave that way.”
    The second time he’d mentioned that he moved around a lot. His house mirrored the truth of his words. Three cardboard boxes sat in the small den, the contents spilling out as if he virtually lived out of them. No pictures, personal or decorative, adorned the walls or filled the built-in wooden shelves flanking the gas fireplace. An eerie kind of loneliness echoed off the shabby bare walls. At the hospital, she remembered Jake saying he had no family to call and wondered what had happened to them.
    She gave herself a mental shake while he angled himself into a semi-comfortable position on the sofa. Whether or not the man was all alone in the world or wandered the streets with no job at all shouldn’t matter to her. After all, he made no bones about the fact that he wasn’t a settle-down type of guy so he obviously didn’t miss his family or want one of his own. Definitely not the kind of man Hannah would ever get involved with.
    So why the heck had she dreamed about him as if he were her destiny?

    J AKE WATCHED H ANNAH fidget with her hands and fought a chuckle. After he’d situated himself on the sofa, she’d made a quick trip to her car and returned with two bags of groceries, then packed them in his cupboards. Not only had the woman bought him clothes and underwear, but now she’d bought him food. A regular little caretaker.
    “I’ll just heat you some soup, then leave you alone to rest.”
    “You don’t need to—”
    “Yes, I do. I promised my father I’d take care of you personally today,” she said softly. She leaned against the doorjamb, her luminous blue eyes sparkling in her heart-shaped face.
    His gut clenched at the wariness in her expression. And the sweet scent of her delicate skin wafted toward him, reminding him of gardenias. Was it his second, or had it been his third foster mom who’d liked gardenias?
    “Dad had to go out of town this morning to film that ad or he would have driven you home himself.”
    “I know. Wiley told me.” He grimaced silently, trying to forget her intoxicating scent and wondering what exactly Wiley was up to in Atlanta. An innocent ad or something more devious—like meeting with potential buyers for his stolen cars? Irritation crawled through him. Wiley’s absence from the dealership would have provided the perfect opportunity for Jake to sneak into his office and check out his computer files. Besides, Joey DeLito, Wiley’s right-hand man and the person Jake suspected of being the main front man, would be running the place. He could have watched DeLito for signs of subterfuge, maybe even found some concrete evidence to tie up this case so he could move on.
    “Jake, are you all right?” The concern in Hannah’s voice startled him. There was nothing personal here—not with Dr. Hartwell. Hell, Wiley was probably afraid he’d sue him so he’d sent Hannah to baby-sit. Or maybe Wiley suspected Jake’s real reason for being in Sugar Hill and wanted Hannah to spy on him.
    The mere thought angered him, cementing his resolve to have her help him.
    “I’m fine.” He reached for the remote, but she beat him to it and placed it beside him on the scarred end table. Their fingers brushed slightly as he took it, and their gazes locked. He felt a current of something spark to life between them, reflected both in the way her hand trembled and the small hitch of her breath.