getting a sugar rush.â
Mia watched Jarrett finish off a glazed donut in record time. He looked good even with his finger-combed hair and wrinkled clothes. There were just some men who couldnât look bad. He was one of them.
âI should let you rest.â He stood, but his gaze never left hers. âIs there anything you need me to do before I go?â
She hesitated to ask him anything else.
âCome on, Mia. What is it?â
âI can wait for Nola.â
âWhat for?â
âI need to take a shower, but the doctor said someoneshould be close by.â She waved her hand. âDonât worry about it, Nolaâs coming in a few hours.â
He swallowed. âHow close by?â
âJust in the apartment. In case something happens thereâll be someone to help me.â
He stood there for what seemed like forever, and then he said, âSure, what are friends for?â
Â
Once Jarrett heard the shower go on, he took out his cell phone and began to check his messages. He had to get some things done today. One was to stop by the office for a few hours and check in with his agents.
Over the last couple of days, between the repairs here and keeping watch on one pregnant lady, heâd neglected his other business.
He was surprised at the next message. It was from Carrie Johnston. He smiled. The pretty blonde from Glenwood Springs heâd met at the real estate conference in Denver last summer had left him another suggestive message. She wanted to see him.
Jarrett should feel a little more excited. During their time together, the two had definitely set off sparks. So why wasnât he more interested in her invitation?
When it came to women, heâd always loved having variety in his life. So why suddenly did it seem too much trouble to make the effort? Maybe thirty-seven was too old to keep playing games.
He thought about what Mia had said, You look it.
He wasnât that old. Wasnât he considered in his prime? Okay, so most men were married by now, like his younger brother. Trace had found Kira years ago. And it had been love at first sight.
Jarrett didnât believe in that. He wasnât sure he believed in love at all.
Suddenly the bathroom door opened and Mia stepped out. She was dressed in her black stretch pants and a soft-pink sweater. Her dark hair lay against her shoulders in waves. Those big blue eyes looked at him and it became difficult to breathe. Damn. What was wrong with him? This woman came with far too many complications.
âWell, since youâre finished, Iâll go.â
âOf course.â She sat down on the sofa. âI appreciate you helping me. Thank you, Jarrett.â
âJust do what the doctor told you and stay in bed. He pulled out his wallet and handed her his business card. âIf you need anything.â She nodded.
âI mean it. Donât be stubborn about asking for help.â He found he wanted to be the one she called.
Â
The snow had been coming down like a holiday greeting card, but by the next afternoon, Mia was getting cabin fever.
She had watched every television talk show and finished up her work on the computer, even cried over an old movie. Neighbors stopped by with offers of help. Even parishioners from her brotherâs church had called her. Sheâd taken naps off and on for the past two days and she was still exhausted and totally bored. And no Jarrett.
âYou know next week is Thanksgiving.â Nolaâs voice broke through her reverie. âAnd we have a problem. The oven in the community room is broken.â
âYou can use mine. Itâs a little tricky on the temperature, but we could adjust it. Itâs small though. Donât we usually cook three or four turkeys?â
The older woman nodded. âRemember last year we fed those people from the mission? There were nearly fifty here.â
Mia thought back to last year. Sheâd had family then.
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