Free Burning for You by Michele Dunaway Page A

that entrenched tone. “Keep the house. It was Evelyn’s idea anyway.”
    Her mom patted Taylor’s arm. “I know you worry, as I do about you. But I’m fine.” She reached to wipe some cookie crumbs from the corner of Taylor’s lips. “I’ve got bridge tonight. Oh, I need you to take care of Yin and Yang for me next week.”
    As if on cue, two fluffy white Himalayans trotted into the kitchen and made figure eights between Taylor’s legs, tickling her with their fuzzy tails. “You can stay here while I’m gone. Take care of my babies. It’ll only be two days. I’m helping Charlene move her daughter to Topeka. We’re taking the car and she’s driving the U-Haul.”
    “Who? Charlene?”
    Charlene was even scarier than her mother when it came to driving. Taylor couldn’t imagine her behind the wheel of a U-Haul.
    Her mother shook her head, her short white hair barely budging. “No. Her daughter. I’m riding shotgun in Charlene’s car. We leave Friday. Sheila’s accepted an associate job at a legal firm there. Very promising. She can make partner.”
    Taylor didn’t touch that comment, lest she somehow inadvertently direct the conversation back toward her own current shortcomings. “I can be here.”
    “So you’ll stay over? I don’t want them to be alone. I know it’s the weekend, but …”
    Taylor sighed. She’d walked right into this one. “As long as this isn’t a ploy to get me to move home, I’m happy to house sit Yin and Yang.”
    Her mother feigned innocence. “Never. Although, you may like being home. I’ll leave you some homemade meals in the refrigerator.”
    Taylor resisted rolling her eyes. “Text me the details. I can get to work just as easily from here as I can from my apartment.”
    “Which is why you should stay here for a while. Save up some money. If the commute’s the same—”
    “Mom.” Taylor rinsed her empty glass and put it in the sink. She washed her hands. “I’d love to discuss this more but I’ve got photos to process, so I need to get going. I also have another job to plan.”
    Her mom knew when she’d pushed enough. She opened her arms for a hug and drew Taylor in. “Well, I’m glad you stopped by. I needed a break from being in the garden and I’ll need to clean up before bridge.”
    “One day I should learn that game.”
    Her mom nodded, leaned back. “You should. I can teach you.”
    With that, Taylor’s mom drew her in for another jasmine-scented hug. As Taylor drove home, her phone rang, and she put it to her ear. “This is Taylor.”
    “It’s Joe.”
    Joe. His deep sexy voice sent a thrill to her toes, as it had last night. “Hey,” she said, her heart racing. Distracted by his call, she failed to notice when a car came into her lane. Belated, she honked.
    “Are your hands free?”
    She frowned, picturing his scowl. “No, but I’m good.”
    “Do you know how many accidents I work that are caused by driver inattention? Hang up and call me when you’re safely parked with the engine off. You’ve got my number.”
    With that, he hung up on her. Thoroughly scolded, she tossed the iPhone on the passenger seat and drummed her fingers on the steering wheel. Really. The man was impossible. Talking on her phone was perfectly legal and she’d never even had so much as a speeding ticket, much less a fender bender.
    She pulled into her assigned parking space, the one building amenity she appreciated at four a.m., and walked up three flights of hot stairs. She stepped into her one-bedroom and immediately turned on the window air-conditioning unit. The art deco building in Richmond Heights wasn’t centrally cooled, and in the winter the radiators banged and hissed but did a decent job. Still, she loved her space. Her artistic nature had been drawn to large windows that let in copious amounts of natural light. She also loved the high ceilings, the plaster millwork, and the aged wood floors. She flopped onto the couch, letting the cool air blow over