Free Saving Sara (Redemption #1) by Nicola Marsh

wavy light brown hair the same shade as her favorite caramel. He had incredible eyes, the kind of blue that was digitally altered for advertisements of the Caribbean. Tanned, with light stubble covering his jaw, he exuded the rugged handsomeness associated with sports stars. With the body to match, if her quick glance at his chest and the way the navy cotton molded to it was any indication.
    The fact she noticed how damn physical he was annoyed h er anew.
    “I’m Jake Mathieson.” He held out his hand. “I’m staying next door with my aunt for a few months. Olly’s my nephew.”
    “I know. He told me,” she said, managing a brief shake before releasing his hand, disconcerted by how warm it felt. “I’m Sara Hardy. This was my gran’s house and I moved in a few days ago.”
    If he noticed the past tense, he didn’t say so and she was glad. Last thing she needed on the heels of Olly’s devastating question was to discuss how she’d inherited the house after Gran’s death.
    “I’m sorry if Olly upset you,” he said, eyeing her the same way he would a jittery filly, like he expected her to kick him before bolting . “He’s a good kid but going through some tough stuff at the moment.”
    “Aren’t we all?” she said, the response slipping out before she could censor it.
    “Yeah, you got that right.” As he continued to eyeball her with that same hopeful yet wary expression, she wondered what had made him so sad.
    Because he was. Sad. He wore it like an invisible cloak, draped around his shoulders, too heavy to bear. She recognized it because she felt the same way.
    Disgruntled, not wanting to empathize or have anything else in common with him, she crossed her arms and glowered, hoping he’d get the message to leave her the hell alone.
    “Anyway, sorry to intrude.” He backed away, almost having to bend double to squeeze through the hole. “Maybe I’ll see you around.”
    “Maybe.” Like never .
    Sara had no intention of following through and didn’t know why she said it, but when Jake smiled, a tentative smile that lit his face and transformed him from handsome to gorgeous, she couldn’t help but think maybe wasn’t so bad after all.
    As she headed back to the house, she pondered her reaction to him. That jolt she’d felt when he smiled had been sexual. The flush of warmth. The odd tingle. Reactions she hadn’t felt in a long time.
    When was the last time she’d had sex? She’d been separated for twelve months—and was officially divorced as of yesterday. Before that, Greg had been too busy chasing partnership in his firm and she’d been too tired at the end of each long workday followed by caring for Lucy to even think about it. Eighteen months, maybe? Longer?
    If she couldn’t remember, it had clearly been too long. And while she had no intention of doing anything about the lack of intimacy in her life, she couldn’t help but appreciate a fine male when he looked like Jake Mathieson did.
    For a split second, when he’d stared at her and smiled, she wondered what it would be like to be with a man again.
    She clomped indoors, kicked off her boots at the back door and spied the box. It still taunted her, beckoning with its crisp brown paper wrapping and shiny label featuring a pyrographed feather and inkpot. She liked the analogy, associating etching and burning into wood with old-fashioned writing. What she didn’t like were the nerves making her stomach churn with dread.
    “This is crazy,” she muttered under her breath, stomping across the kitchen to lift the box off the sideboard and place it on the table.
    She rummaged in the junk drawer, found scissors, and carefully slit into the paper and tape. Opened the box flaps. Inhaled.
    She’d always loved the smell of wood. Birch. Maple. Cherry. Each unique in its own way. It had been so long since she’d touched a piece of specially prepared wood that her hands shook as she lifted several pieces out of the box and laid them carefully