Free The Fix (Carolina Connections #1) by Sylvie Stewart

to her hip.
    Oooh,
she’s a sharp one. “I will as soon as you give me her address. Can I come in
before the neighbors start calling the cops?”
    After
a few moments she opened the door a touch. “I guess. But you have to act like a
normal person. I have company and my son is here.” Ah, so the little kid was her son, not Gavin’s. But she didn’t have a ring, I’d noted earlier. Still, I
reminded myself to tread carefully. She stepped aside and left the door open
for me. I followed her into the house and closed the door behind me. The door
knob fell off into my hand. Huh? I looked at her questioningly. She
looked at my hand.
    “Oh
crap,” she said and grabbed the knob from my hand while pushing the door to
rest in a position that was mostly closed.
    “You’re
worried about my building threatening your kid’s safety and your front door
doesn’t even close?” I couldn’t resist.
    Her
hand shot to my mouth and covered it. “I thought you were here to apologize,” she
hissed.
    I
was too distracted by the effect her touch had on me to respond. Her warm hand
stayed over my mouth a few seconds too long as her eyes rose to meet mine.
    Could
she feel that too? Apparently so, because the next second
her hand dropped like it had been burned and then both of her hands went to her
cheeks and started running up and down over the sweet little freckles I’d just
noticed. Sweet little freckles? What am I now, a girl?
    She
turned her back and hurried from the entryway. I couldn’t do anything but follow.
    It
turns out we were headed into the kitchen where a very petite blond woman stood
at a stove that was older than dirt stirring something in a pot. The little boy
from yesterday, whom I now knew was Laney’s son, was sitting at a blue table
with a pile of Legos in front of him. He had on a gray t-shirt with a yellow
chick on it and sported the words “Chicks Dig Me”. Just under the sleeve of the
shirt I could see one of those stick-on tattoos but I couldn’t tell what is was
supposed to be. I liked this kid already. I could work with this.
    “Nate,
this is my friend Fiona and my son Rocco.” Laney did the introductions, one
hand still holding her cheek.
    Oh
shit ,
a thought suddenly occurred to me. Were these women a couple and this was their
son? I was usually so good at spotting signals and I could have sworn Laney was
into me, even if she didn’t want to be.
    The
woman named Fiona whirled around suddenly, clearly not expecting a strange man
to appear in the kitchen. She looked me over and I can tell you she was not shy
about her head to toe perusal. I was beginning to feel a little violated she
was so thorough. Okay, so totally straight – that was a relief.
    “Fiona,
Rocco, this is Gavin’s boss, Nate Murphy. Rocco, say hello to Mr. Murphy,”
Laney gently directed.
    “Nate.
Nate’s fine. How’s it going Rocco?” I waved to the kid. “Nice tattoo. Did you
get that in prison? I’ll bet it kills with the ladies.”
    Crickets.
    “Five-year
olds don’t really get sarcasm,” said Fiona, leaning toward me and offering her
hand.
    “Oh,”
I said stupidly as I took it. Fiona couldn’t have been more than about 5’4” and
she was wearing sky high heels so her actual height was probably closer to an
even five feet. She had blond hair and a tiny face to match her tiny body. She
was cute in a spunky kind of way, but was a complete contrast to her bombshell
of a friend.
    “So,
Nate, I hear you’ve been stirring up some trouble in the neighborhood,” Fiona
led with a wink.
    “Oh
no,” Laney interjected, “none of that. Nate is just here to apologize for yesterday
and then he’s going to be on his way.” She had lost her slightly frazzled
demeanor and was back in command.
    “No!”
Fiona argued and looked beseechingly at me. “You have to stay for dinner. I’m
making penne with a fabulous tomato cream sauce and meatballs for my main man
over there.” She tipped her chin toward the table where Rocco