Free While She Was Sleeping... by Isabel Sharpe

is not my usual guy—”
    “You want me out as soon as possible.”
    “No! I want to make sure we have dinner at a new restaurant—new to you—on North Avenue that I think you’d like.” Melanie laughed ruefully. “Will we ever be able to communicate normally?”
    “Probably not.” She crossed the kitchen and gave Melanie a long hug. “You and me?”
    The phrase was one they’d used often when their mother was out of the house or out of commission. Melanie squeezed her, then let go. “You and me.”
    “What, I’m not invited?”
    “Hey, Sawyer!” Melanie’s face lit up. “How was your second night?”
    “Better than the first. And also not as good.” He winked at Alana, who immediately turned to pour herself another cup of coffee, though more stimulation was the last thing she needed. He wore a loose T-shirt and khaki shorts, bare feet, his dark hair tousled appealingly; he moved with a lumbering swagger that was so masculine her mouth was practically watering.
    Melanie laughed as if she’d never heard anything so cleverin her life, though she obviously didn’t get the joke or she wouldn’t have found it funny.
    “Good morning, Alana.”
    “Hi there.” She tossed the greeting over her shoulder, safe by the coffeemaker. “Glad you slept well.”
    “Did you?”
    “Sure.” Not. Even with her new sleeping pill—but not the second one this time—she’d had a hard time dropping off, lying in the bed she’d slept alone in for over a decade. One night with Sawyer and it was as if he belonged there with her. She wished she’d taken the guest room after all.
    “So what’s on the calendar today, roomies? Looks like Alana got a jump on the cleaning.” He started opening cabinets. “Mugs here? Whoa, someone likes candles.”
    “We ate by candlelight all winter. Gran said it chased away the gloom of early darkness. She bought them by the case. Mugs are here.” Melanie got down a Green Bay Packers mug for him, apparently unconcerned to be caught wearing only a shirt, which lifted and clung sexily when she reached into the cabinet, though Sawyer didn’t seem to notice. Er, not that Alana had meant to check for his reaction.
    Sigh. Sometimes, Alana wished she was more like her sister. Not very often. But if Sawyer had come down while she was half-naked, she’d have turned beet-red and run from the room to put on sweatpants.
    “Alana cleans when she’s upset.”
    “Oh?” He moved next to her—too close, she felt her whole body wanting to lean into his tall strength—and poured himself a cup of coffee. “You upset?”
    “No. No.” She inched away, sat at the kitchen counter and sent Melanie a look of death behind his back. “I’m fine.”
    “Good to hear. Can you pass the Raisin Bran?”
    “What?” Melanie jumped to get him a bowl. “You like Raisin Bran, too?”
    “I have it every morning. Creature of habit.”
    “Then this is your box.” Alana knew there had to be some reason Melanie had healthy cereal in her cabinet. “I’m sorry, I had no idea—”
    “I think I can spare you a bowl of Raisin Bran.” He grinned and took the box, sat on the stool next to her across from Melanie, to Alana’s intense but not altogether unpleasant discomfort. “Especially after what I put you through.”
    “Oh. Well.” Dammit, she was blushing again. “That’s…it’s…I don’t—”
    “So what are you doing today, Sawyer?” Melanie had the slightest edge to her bright tone. “I promised Edgar—he’s my coworker—that I’d shop with him for a surprise for his girlfriend’s birthday, then I’m at Habitat for Humanity this afternoon. You coming?”
    “Yes, after lunch. I’m going to stay close to home this morn ing. Get settled in. What about you, Alana?” He got milk from the fridge and handed it to her; she tried not to notice how easy it was for him to hold the full gallon at arm’s length. Oh, what she’d missed by being asleep that first night, and not being able to see