Free Jar of Hearts: (Family Stone, # 5 Keisha and Shane) (Family Stone Romantic Suspense) by Lisa Hughey Page A

going.”
    “Babe. I know you. It’s not nothing.”
    Keisha blinked slowly, tried to hide her emotions from him. He didn’t know her. He knew the her that gave in to his charm and her own traitorous body. Not the her that protected her heart at all costs. “Maybe I’m just prepping for this takedown.” It was going to be a delicate situation.
    “That’s not it either.”
    “Fine. I was just reminded that you’re a player.”
    “Why are you bringing that up again? Because our sex is off that charts?” he asked with frustration. “It’s off the charts because of us, together. We combust.”
    “I’m sure you…combust with plenty of women.”
    “Jesus, Keish. I’m with you right now.” But then as if he realized that she’d backed off when she opened the glove box, Shane peered inside. “What did you see?”
    Keisha shrugged.
    But Shane wouldn’t let it go. She should have known he’d be a bull dog when it came to getting to the bottom of her attempted dismissal.
    He didn’t even seem to see the incriminating evidence. “Come on, Keish. At least give me the courtesy of an answer, and a chance to defend myself against whatever perceived problem you’ve got with me now.”
    “Why do you care?” she snapped.
    “Hell if I know. But I do,” Shane snapped right back. “Tell. Me.”
    Finally she recognized the determination in his narrowed gaze, relented, and just told him what was bothering her. “The earring.”
    “What about it?”
    “You can’t be that obtuse,” she said.
    “It belongs to a client,” Shane said with exasperation. “She’s one of the clients who gets extra service. I do a lot of business with her company. I dropped her and her husband off at home after they got back from a business trip to San Francisco. Then I found it in the backseat when I was cleaning my car.”
    Keisha stayed quiet. She’d jumped to conclusions. But maybe that was just her brain trying to spare her future heartache. Because she was pretty sure that she was in too deep to totally avoid pain.
    “Hey,” Shane said gruffly. “Next time. Ask me. Don’t just assume.”
    Next time. As if there would be a next time. Keisha crossed her arms over her chest, she knew the posture was defensive but she was feeling the need to protect herself any way she could.
    “There will be a next time,” Shane insisted. “Okay?”
    “We’d better get on the road.”
    He sighed and put the car in gear.
    And she knew this discussion wasn’t over.
     
    ***
     
    They entered the offices of Food for Life only a few minutes late.
    The offices were built in a small corner of the warehouse. The walls had been painted a cheery pale teal, and gray linoleum covered the cold industrial cement floor. In the middle of the room, two standard office desks with fake wood veneer circa 1970 faced each other, and the wall was lined with old metal filing cabinets. A bulletin board, pinned with flyers printed on neon paper advertising the various fundraisers and donation days, was on the wall right inside the door.
    On the same wall as the door were two large windows with a view of the parking lot and the semi-trucks ready to be loaded with shrink-wrapped pallets of boxed food. Shane put a proprietary hand in the small of Keisha’s back, determined to let everyone know she was his. Silly, but the move was the civilized man’s equivalent of the caveman marking his territory.
    “Good afternoon, Mr. and Mrs. Washington.” Monica Peterson was dressed to work in the warehouse but the rest of the room’s occupants were in business suits. And while Shane could care less about fitting in and the ‘uniform’ of the casually wealthy, he knew that this group would take him more seriously if he looked like one of them.
    Keisha had obviously thought the same. Dressed in her black suit, short black skirt, tight pale yellow cami, a crop black jacket and those killer pumps she projected class and confidence. He loved her in her black cargo pants and