Free Second Chances (Nugget Romance 3) by Stacy Finz Page B

tossed a bit of the peel into the pot.
    As soon as the mixture came to a boil, she turned down the heat and let the liquid simmer for a few minutes before pouring it into two mugs.
    “Here you go.” She put down a napkin on the coffee table and set the cup in front of Colin, who was channel surfing.
    “What do you want to watch?” he asked.
    “I don’t care. What do you usually watch this time of night?” Most of the guys she knew would’ve said porn.
    “Nothing. I’m usually asleep.”
    “Well, why didn’t you say you wanted to go to bed?”
    “Because you seemed like you wanted to hang out.”
    She smiled because for all his weirdness, he really was very sweet. “Drink your cider before it gets cold.”
    He dutifully took a sip. “It’s good.”
    “You really like it? Or are you just saying that because you think that’s what I want to hear?”
    “I really like it.” He took a few more sips. “So you lost your job, huh?”
    “Yes.” She frowned. “Please don’t spread it around. Other than Darla, you’re the only person in Nugget who knows.”
    “What happened?”
    She put her mug down. “I didn’t do anything wrong. I was . . . I am . . . a great reporter. But the paper is losing money and they had to reduce staff. It’s a union shop. Last ones hired are the first ones fired, according to the rules.”
    “Did you like the job?”
    “I loved it. It was who I am.” She heard her voice tremble. “I’m looking around. But it’s tough right now. Just about every paper in the country is downsizing.”
    “Why didn’t you move in with your parents while you’re looking?”
    She blew out a breath. “Honestly, it would’ve made me feel more like a loser.”
    “You’re not a loser, Harlee. You lost your job through no fault of your own. These things happen.”
    She sniffled and swatted at her eyes. “Thank you for saying that. This whole thing has taken a toll on my confidence. You’ll probably find this hard to believe, but I used to be really outgoing.”
    She could see him smothering a smile. “You don’t say. What . . . uh . . . How are you getting by in the meantime?” Harlee could tell that he didn’t like prying, but she didn’t mind.
    “I have a business I’m trying to get off the ground. So far it’s going okay. But I sort of lived high on the hog in San Francisco and it’s caught up with me.” A skosh of an understatement, but it was better than saying she was swimming in debt.
    His brown eyes warmed and he smiled at her. Something about that smile melted her insides. She’d never been around someone who was so nonjudgmental.
    “I get the feeling that you’re the type of person who makes things happen. As far as the layoff,” he said, “just a minor setback.”
    “What about you?” She leaned her head against the back of the couch, feeling sleepy. But she didn’t want their conversation to end. “How’d you get into furniture making?”
    He looked away, gazing into the fire. “It’s just something I like to do. And people seem to think my stuff is nice enough to buy.”
    “Are you kidding? Colin, you should be taking your work to trade shows and furniture conventions all over the country. I’m serious. You could make a lot of money.”
    “I’m not all that ambitious,” he said, and she could’ve sworn she saw a flicker of sadness. “I did sell a piece to Della James’s manager.”
    “Get out! I heard she was here for some cookbook photo shoot. Oh my God, Colin.”
    He chuckled. “Emily Mathews, Clay McCreedy’s fiancée, was the editor and she used some of my pieces as props. She said I’ll be listed in the book on some sort of a resource page.”
    “That’s awesome.” He tried to look like no-big-deal, but she could tell he was really proud. “When’s the book coming out?”
    “Christmastime,” he said.
    “Colin, you better be ready. That book’s likely to be a New York Times best seller. You’re going to get orders up the