Free Blown Away: A Small Town Military Romance (The Moore Brothers Book 1) by Abby Brooks

hands right now. Maybe I can help you find what you need?”
    “That sounds perfect,” said Juliet, eager to change the subject from the tantalizing Ian Moore. “I basically need a little of everything.”
    “Everything?”
    “Yep. Everything. I need a job. I need groceries. I need a cheap place to get some kitchen stuff.”
    “Well, I can’t help you with the job, and the way things are going, I’m not so sure there will be many people who can help with that. Times are tight.”
    Juliet’s stomach twisted at the thought of not being able to get a job. She did have that envelope full of money, and as long as she didn’t go too crazy buying new things, it’d support her for a couple months. But a job was going to be a necessity. Ellie was already telling her about the best places to get groceries and fresh produce. Julz put worries about finding a job aside and started jotting down names of the stores Ellie was mentioning on her map.
    Today was only day one of this grand new adventure and she’d covered more bases today than she’d expected to cover in the first week. Well, Ian had covered those bases for her, but still. She’d find a job. Somehow.
     

Chapter Ten
     
     
    Ian
     
     
     
     
     
     
    That night, Ian sat down with a glass of wine in hand and typed Juliet Lane, New York City into a Google search. He didn't know what he expected to find, maybe a Facebook page, maybe a Twitter feed, maybe a listing in the yellow pages. He definitely didn't expect to find pages and pages of images of her standing with Michael Phillips, CEO of fucking Tech Lord.
    Fucking. Tech Lord.
    Everyone knew who Michael Phillips was. You couldn't go through one evening of television without seeing him and his narcissistic smile leaning back in his pretentious office, spewing nonsense about the remarkable new product he’d willed (apparently single-handedly, if you listened to him) into existence this week. It blew his mind that Juliet had dated Michael Phillips. Was this the guy she was running from? Holy fuck.
    It had to be. There they were, in picture after picture, arm in arm, leaning into one another, smiling for the camera. What did that say about Juliet? Ian considered Michael Phillips to be a type-A douchebag. Always had. There was just something so condescending and uptight about those commercials, his smile so practiced, his hair so perfect it probably took four showers to get all the gel out at the end of the day. Juliet didn't seem like the kind of girl who would be drawn to a guy like that.
    So, what was it about the guy that had drawn her in? Was it his money? Ian took a long drink of his beer. That idea did not sit well with him at all. Considering his family, Ian had dealt with his fair share of gold-digging bitches and was in no mood to deal with any more. Is that would Juliet was? It sure didn't seem like it. But Ian couldn’t think of another reason for Juliet to be wrapped up with a guy like Michael Phillips. At least not a reason that made a whole lot of sense.
    Ian sat back in his chair and stared off into the corners of his home office as if he could find the answer hidden in them somewhere. Night had fallen a long time ago and morning was going to come way earlier than Ian wanted it to. There was just no way he could fall asleep with all these questions going through his mind. He trusted Juliet. It didn't make sense for him to trust her, but he did. Hell, he’d even set her up in one of his rental properties—free of charge—and given her a bunch of furniture to use while she was there. The thought that she was some kind of scam artist churned in his stomach.
    He turned his attention back to the computer screen and studied the pictures. At first, the pictures just made him madder. Michael smirking into the camera while Juliet beamed up at him. Michael wrapping his arm around her small shoulders, pulling her close as if she belong to him. But as Ian paid closer and closer attention to the images of