Free Lana's Lawman by Karen Leabo

fix my roof?”
    His smile vanished. “No one. I took it upon myself because it needed to be done. And because I didn’t have anything better to do this afternoon. And …” He seemed reluctant to say more, but then he plunged ahead. “And because friends help each other out.”
    She raised her eyebrows. “Is that what we are?”
    â€œWell …” He shrugged. “I thought we might be headed in that direction.”
    Her eyebrows flew up. “Like maybe we’d take up—”
    â€œDon’t say it. That’s not what I was thinking. Whatever happened back then, it’s in the past. This is a new start. I think I like you, Lana. I like the person you’ve become.”
    She took a deep breath. How could she be so mad at him when he was only trying to help, and saying such nice things? But she was mad—furious. “I already called Hansen Roofing. They were coming out on Friday.”
    â€œAnd how were you going to pay them?”
    Oh, now he’d really gone too far. “I was going to trade my body, okay?”
    Sloan’s eyes widened and his nostrils actually flared.
    â€œFor heaven’s sake,” she huffed, “Mr. Hansen agreed to let me spread the payments out. I’m not destitute.”
    â€œI’ll give you better terms.” His cocky smile returned.
    â€œI’ll pay you what the job’s worth. Aren’t you cops always moonlighting for extra income?” She would see how
he
liked having his financial status questioned.
    â€œI wasn’t planning to charge you.”
    She pulled her checkbook out. “Three hundred twenty-five, that’s what Hansen’s was charging.” And she didn’t care if she wiped out her whole bank balance and had to live on peanut butter for the next two weeks. She wouldn’t have this debt to Sloan hanging over her head.
    â€œIf you’re so hot to write me a check, you can reimburse me for the materials. Sixty-eight dollars and some change. But I won’t accept your money for my labor. I’m doing this because I like working with my hands, and because I want to do something nice for you. Is that such a crime?”
    Not when he put it like that. “You should have consulted me first.”
    â€œI did. You said no.”
    â€œSo you came over anyway?” This was incredible.
    â€œI knew you’d like it when it was finished.”
    â€œOf all the—” But he wasn’t listening to her. He’d turned and was climbing back up the ladder.
    â€œI need to take advantage of these last few minutes of daylight,” he said matter-of-factly. “I can pick up the check later.”
    â€œYeah, in my dreams,” Lana murmured, admiring his backside despite herself. She wasn’t sure why she was so dead set against this. In simpler times she might have accepted his friendly gesture without worrying about repercussions. But if Bart had taught her nothingelse, he’d taught her that sometimes paybacks were a bitch.
    Sloan worked until it was too dark to tell whether he was about to hammer a nail or his thumb. Reluctantly he gathered up his tools, climbed down the ladder, and stowed everything in the back of his Cherokee. The job wasn’t done yet. He dreaded announcing to Lana that he would be back tomorrow to finish. In her present mood, she might be waiting for him in the front yard with a shotgun.
    He’d never seen a woman so dead set against someone helping her. Kinda made him wonder exactly what she’d been through in the past ten years. If he recalled, his eighteen-year-old Lana had been quick to accept a lift home from the library—provided no one saw them. She hadn’t minded when he wanted to buy her a hot fudge sundae with his hard-earned cash. When he’d bought her a small present—a crystal necklace—she’d accepted it without qualms.
    So what had happened in the interim?
    Recalling