Free Slow and Steady Rush by Laura Trentham

cut off mid-growl, his head swiveling between them.
    A potent combination of anger, lust, and humiliation jolted her body into action. His cap lay on the floor and she kicked it, launching it to the ceiling. Avery caught it on a jump and loped after Robbie. He stopped to retrieve it from his dog’s mouth and mashed it on his head. Avery received a stiff, but gentle pat. Man and dog disappeared around the corner of the house.
    She stared out the screen door. A breeze rustled the roses climbing the trellis, the scent at odds with the bile climbing her throat. The spray and crunch of gravel under spinning wheels unstuck her. She picked up the nearest thing to her hand and hurled it at the screen. The overly ripe banana splattered on the floor, leaving a goopy, sweet-smelling mess.
    Damn him to hell.

Chapter 6
    Darcy splashed cold water on her face to cool her arousal and embarrassment. She had practically mauled the man. Why hadn’t she shoved him away? The answer was simple. She had wanted him to kiss her … and more. He had wanted more too, hadn’t he?
    Granted, it had been awhile, but that had sure felt like a huge erection pressing against her. What did he think about her now? Probably that she was a slutty gossip. Tears burned, and she patted her cheeks until they were gone.
    The last thing she wanted was to field questions from Ada. Pasting on an untroubled smile, she entered into the den. An old-fashioned pair of cat-eyed reading glasses perched on the tip of Ada’s nose, and a thick hardback book was spread open in her lap.
    Darcy waited until she looked up. Nothing was more annoying than being interrupted out of another world. “A little light reading?”
    “Decided to reread one of my favorites before I kick the bucket.” Ada tilted the book up so Darcy could see the spine. War and Peace .
    “You’re not going anywhere anytime soon,” Darcy said with fearful impatience. “That book is so depressing. Why not read something lighter?”
    “Reading about others’ tragedies makes the ones I’ve faced more manageable. Smaller.” No pity or sadness resonated from her grandmother’s voice, only a matter-of-factness that Darcy closely associated with Ada.
    Darcy wandered to the window where gnats swarmed, wanting to get in out of the heat too. Now that she was grown, she saw Ada as more than her grandmother and caregiver. Ada was a woman who’d loved and lost, dreamed and lived.
    “Can I ask you something personal?”
    “My life’s an open book,” Ada said with a chuckle, but Darcy didn’t laugh in return. Ada wiped the smile from her face. “Sorry, librarian humor. You know you can ask me anything.”
    “Why didn’t you remarry? I’m pretty sure Henry Wilson wanted to court you.”
    “After Raymond died so young, I couldn’t imagine loving anyone else, and when your mother and your aunt Sara were little, I was trying to keep afloat. Then you and Logan were such handfuls.”
    “Logan was a handful. I was the model adolescent.” Darcy forced a teasing tone.
    “Logan was wild. But, I worried—worry—about you even more than Logan.”
    “Me? Why?” Her stomach rolled, and she flopped down on the couch.
    “You work so hard not to be like your mother, you aren’t living. You go to work, date the most boring of men, and never do anything that scares you.”
    The truth of her grandmother’s words settled on her chest like a bucketful of river mud. “Would you rather I slept around, experimented with drugs—”
    “You’re getting defensive. You always do that when I even mention your mother. That’s why I worry about you. You’ll never have a worthwhile relationship unless you open up and trust someone.” Ada licked her finger and flipped the page, her eyes on the text.
    “I have friends in Atlanta.” She did, didn’t she? Several had texted, and Alice, her replacement and a friend, had called several times. To ask about the job. Darcy pulled the old afghan over her lap and poked her