Free Forever After by Catherine Anderson Page B

secrets, yeah, I guess so.”
    Meredith didn’t miss the glint of curiosity that crept into his eyes. She looked quickly away, laughing nervously. “Not state secrets. It just tends to make you feel vulnerable. I prefer the traditional introduction. An exchange of names, shaking hands.”
    “You’re right.” He turned loose of his dog to straighten and thrust out his hand. “My name’s Heath Ian Masters,” he said, his voice laced with teasing amusement. “I’m the guy with the crazy dog who lives up the road.”
    She had endured one handshake. She wasn’t eager to experience another. But there he stood, waiting. She cast a wary glance at the dog then touched her fingertips to Heath’s work-hardened palm, hoping to get this over with quickly. No such luck.
    How was it that he could touch only her hand, yet make her feel the heat all over? A tingling, radiating warmth that shot first to her shoulder, then did a U-turn to her belly.
    “And you are?”
    She blinked. “Oh…I’m Meredith Lynn Kenyon, the woman down the road who doesn’t like your crazy dog.”
    He chuckled at that, then trailed his fingertip over her wrist bone again, slowly and lightly, as if he were committing the feel of her to memory.
    “Or me, either, I’m afraid,” he observed huskily. He released his hold on her and turned to shoo his dog out the door ahead of him. “We’ll have to work on that. Seems to me a lady living alone should be on good terms with the one neighbor she’s got.”
    Not if she had anything to say about it , she thought a little frantically. This man threatened her peace of mind in more ways than one.
     
    Heath was still standing on Meredith’s rickety porch when she turned off the outside light, leaving him in the moonlight that slanted under the sagging overhang. She had to know he was still out here. A grin settled on his mouth.
    “Well, Goliath, you’ve really done it this time,” he said softly. “What in the hell were you thinking, huh?”
    Goliath glanced at the closed door and whined.
    “I don’t wanna hear it, blockhead.” Picking his way carefully, Heath moved down the rotten steps. When the dog didn’t follow, he snapped his fingers. “Damn it, Goliath, get your keister down here.”
    Head hanging, the Rottweiler finally obeyed. Heath cut across the yard. At the road, he turned to look back. The floors in that house were a hazard. He couldn’t believe she’d set out flower pots to divert the foot traffic. Damn . Why didn’t she just hound Zeke Guntrum to death until the old fart repaired the place?
    Somehow, Heath couldn’t feature Meredith doing that. He recalled the wariness in her eyes and the nervous way she’d hugged her waist in the kitchen. She wasn’t the type to stand toe-to-toe with a man. And Zeke would take advantage of it. The old man had a history of leasing this house, promising to make repairs, then pocketing the lastmonth’s rent and deposits when the snookered tenants left before the lease was up.
    Heath hated to see a single woman with a kid get taken. He ran his gaze over the crumbling foundation and sagging porches, wondering if he shouldn’t call Zeke himself.
    The thought brought him up short. This wasn’t his problem, and it sure as hell wasn’t his business. Meredith wouldn’t appreciate his interference. But, then, she probably wouldn’t be too pleased when she or Sammy fell through the floor, either.
    He remembered how fragile her wrist bone had felt. If she went through that floor, she’d break an ankle or something. The lady wasn’t exactly sturdy. And if she got hurt, who’d play Good Samaritan? Yours truly, that’s who. He was her only neighbor. That gave him a vested interest. It wasn’t that he was attracted to her or anything. He was just anticipating trouble before it happened and trying to head it off at the pass.
    Right. And if you believe that, next you’ll be investing in the Golden Gate Bridge .
    No wonder Goliath was so bent on coming