Free What She'd Do for Love by Cindi Myers

of the road project.”
    She clucked her tongue. “And here I thought I had some juicy gossip.” She studied the shelves, and then confidently pulled down a couple of navy blue rugs. “Start with these. I suggest you put them over any stains in the carpet.”
    “Okay.” He took the rugs. “What else?”
    “Are you seriously telling me you’ve never furnished an apartment before?”
    “I never needed to.”
    She shook her head and added a stack of bath towels. “Hang these where your mom will see them if she uses your bathroom. That will keep her from focusing on the ratty ones you probably use every day.”
    “You’re starting to scare me. Have you been peeking in my bathroom?”
    “I don’t have to. Most people—especially single men—use ratty bath towels for everyday, and save the good ones for company. Put these in the kitchen.” She added dish towels and a matching pot holder. “Oh, and these will help dress up the sofa.” She piled on four throw pillows in shades of gold, brown and blue.
    Ryder peered over the top of the growing stack. “Anything else?”
    “You need pictures. Art.” She looked around. “I don’t see anything here, but if you stop by Wildwood Flowers, she has a good selection. Buy a couple of plants, too. Ask her for anything that thrives on neglect. It would help if you framed a few photographs, too.”
    “Photographs of what?”
    “You—with friends. Hanging out. Doing stuff. You know, to personalize the place. Let your mom see that you have a life.”
    He tried to remember if he had any photos of himself with other people besides his family. Maybe he’d been captured in some shots other people took, at work or casual gatherings with acquaintances. But he had no albums or computer files with candid shots of himself at parties or barbecues or dinners. Those were things people accumulated when they lived somewhere for a while—at least long enough to establish a history.
    “Thanks,” he told Kelly as they headed toward the checkout. “I’m sure this stuff will help warm the place up a little.”
    “Maybe you should ask Christa to help you,” she said, her tone was casual, but the inference was not.
    He smiled. “I thought she was in marketing, not decorating.”
    “She’s a smart woman, so I’m sure she’d have good ideas for you. And it would give you an excuse to see her again.”
    Ah. More matchmaking. “I didn’t know I needed an excuse to see her.”
    She set her purse on the counter and faced him. “Etta Mae said you two looked pretty cozy at the Blue Bell last night.”
    “We enjoyed talking.”
    “You could continue the conversation at your apartment.”
    If he was worried about his mom seeing where he lived, he definitely didn’t want Christa to know what a failure he was at putting his own stamp on the place. “I think I’ll leave Christa out of the decorating, thanks.”
    “Maybe that’s a good idea. Get the place fixed up first, then invite her over.”
    “Christa and I are just friends.”
    “That’s a good place to start. And I’m really happy for you. I think the two of you are a good match.”
    “We’re not dating. She made it very clear she doesn’t want to date me.”
    “And half the women in town would tell her she needs her head examined, but that’s just Christa—it takes her a long time to warm up to anything new. She just moved back to town, so she has to adjust to that before she can move on to dating. But she’ll come around. Trust me, I’ve known her all her life.”
    “So she’s always been slow to accept change?”
    “Are you kidding me? She carried the same backpack all the way through high school, even though it was falling apart, because she couldn’t stand to get a new one. In ninth grade, she ate a cheese sandwich every single day for lunch. When the Dairy Queen closed down, she practically went into mourning. It’s not that she doesn’t like new things—she just wants all the old, familiar things to