First up is Josh, the architect at McMann Brothers.

He was tired are a. busy day and an intense. business dinner. He wanted to go home, kick back, find a game on television. Instead he’s stuck with a mouthy broad with a cast and a major attitude. The next thing he knows he’s playing rescuer and savior and trying to figure out where all this heat between them came form.

Excerpt:

He disconnected and shoved the phone back in his pocket.

“Well?” Ness looked to be more in control of herself, even with anxiety written all over her face.

“They towed it. About an hour ago.” He looked at her curious as to how this had happened. “Were you in the restaurant? Why didn’t you give it to the valet?”

She tucked her hair behind her ear. “Because I’ve already had one car demolished a couple of weeks ago and I was hoping to last another twenty-four hours before getting a second one dinged. I thought it would be a lot safer here.”

“Were you in there with friends?” He felt as though he was digging the information out of her. “Where did they go? Can one of them take you to get your car?”

She sighed, fiddling with her hair again. “It was a business dinner. I can’t ask a client to take me to pick up my car that got towed. Anyway, he’s gone.”

“Not friends. A client.”  

He looked at her cast then back at her face, one eyebrow raised.

She straightened her shoulders, trying to make herself taller. “My broken ankle has nothing to do with my ability to conduct business. I don’t talk with my foot.”

Josh swallowed a smile.

“Well, that kind of leaves you in a predicament, doesn’t it?”

She did that straightening thing with her body again, as if somehow she’d grow another six inches. “I am more than capable of taking care of myself, thank you very much.”

“Is that a fact?”

“Yes. It is. Without question.” Her words were underlined with heavy indignation. She straightened and tried to square her shoulders.

“Could have fooled me.”

“Besides, I’ve bothered you enough. I’ll just go on into the restaurant and they can call a taxi for me.”

“Why don’t you just do it yourself?”

She looked away. “My cell phone is out of juice. And do not make any smartass remarks.”

She turned and began to clump her way back down the sidewalk, shoving his handkerchief in her pocket.

“Hold it.” Josh reached out to take her arm. “Hold it a minute, will you? You don’t need a cab. I’ll take you. And it’s not a bother.”

How many times had he said that in his life?

She stopped almost in mid-clump and stared up at him. “Why would you do that? You don’t even know me.”

He grinned at her. “I know your name, the kind of car you drive and that you have a broken foot or ankle. That’s more than I know about a lot of other people.”

Including some of the women I date. So what does that make me?

 

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