that had stained the cloth. She found her crutches perched by the wall next to the nightstand, and with a few hops, she fitted the crutches in her armpits and stabilized her weight on her hands.
Thanks to Blake’s thoughtfulness, all her stuff had been packed as if she’d done it herself. She dressed in a pair of denim shorts and comfortable T-shirt.
The house was almost too quiet except for a scratching sound coming from the living room.
She found Blake’s dog perched on the sofa, looking out the window.
Drew spun around, and if dogs could smile, she would have sworn he was greeting her with a big good morning grin. He looked grateful, almost relieved, for the company. He’d seen her once yet seemed comfortable and not showing any aggression toward her. The powerful-looking animal approached her, his tongue lolled out.
“Hey, Drew. You aren’t surprised to see me at all, are you?” She reached down and patted him on the head. “Where’s Blake?”
The dog’s ears perked up when he heard his master’s name, and he glanced back at the window.
“So that’s what you were doing . . . waiting for him?”
Jennifer was surprised when Drew rose up on his hind legs and rested his paws on her chest, almost knocking her off balance.
She giggled. “You must be good company for Blake.” She patted his head again and turned in the direction of the kitchen.
Although Blake hadn’t shown her around, it wasn’t hard to guess since the layout of the house seemed to be similar to hers. Besides, all she had to do was to follow the scent of freshly brewed coffee. With care, she hobbled into the adjoining room and found a mug sitting next to the coffee maker.
After pouring a cup for herself, Jennifer sat at the dinette and took stock of her surroundings in the light of day. She had no idea how he lived, but judging by the limited provisions around her, Blake seemed to be a simple man.
The memory of their kiss surfaced, and another wave of shame filled her. She had acted on impulse when she’d returned his kiss, but had he not pushed her away, and stopping had been the last thing in her mind.
Jennifer intended to have him drive her home as soon as he appeared. If the prospect of limping outside on a crutch in this heat didn’t make her break out in an exhausted sweat, she would have started the long walk home now.
Halfway through her first cup, the telephone rang. She debated whether to answer the call, but Blake had given Officer Cortez the number in case he had news about the break-in.
As soon as she picked up the receiver, a reprimanding female voice lashed out. “Blake Connor, didn’t I teach you better manners? You should be ashamed of yourself, letting your poor mother worry about you.”
Jennifer pulled the phone away and stared at it.
Should I say something or just hang up?
Her good manners prevailed. “Hello? I’m sorry, but Blake isn’t home at the moment.” She cringed at the sound of her voice.
“Oh . . . I’m so sorry.”
Jennifer gripped the phone and struggled for the right thing to fill the silence.
It’s okay, Mrs. Connor. I’m not just some random woman . . . here . . . at your son’s home . . . first thing in the morning . . . well, I am, but . . . I’m just a friend.
Oh yeah, sounds great!
“I’m Claire, Blake’s mother. Who am I speaking with?”
“Um, I-I-I’m Jennifer . . . Jennifer Owens, Mrs. Connor. My house was burglarized last night and I’m a neighbor and I cut my foot on a broken vase and Blake offered for me to stay for the night while I get my window fixed.” She leaned on the wall to support her body and tried to catch her breath.
“Oh my! Are you okay?” The pure concern in Mrs. Connor’s voice made Jennifer ache for her own mother.
“Yes. Blake took me to the ER last night, and I’m waiting for a call from the police department to see if they have any information on the burglar.”
“Blake did? Bless his heart. I’m glad
Thanks to Blake’s thoughtfulness, all her stuff had been packed as if she’d done it herself. She dressed in a pair of denim shorts and comfortable T-shirt.
The house was almost too quiet except for a scratching sound coming from the living room.
She found Blake’s dog perched on the sofa, looking out the window.
Drew spun around, and if dogs could smile, she would have sworn he was greeting her with a big good morning grin. He looked grateful, almost relieved, for the company. He’d seen her once yet seemed comfortable and not showing any aggression toward her. The powerful-looking animal approached her, his tongue lolled out.
“Hey, Drew. You aren’t surprised to see me at all, are you?” She reached down and patted him on the head. “Where’s Blake?”
The dog’s ears perked up when he heard his master’s name, and he glanced back at the window.
“So that’s what you were doing . . . waiting for him?”
Jennifer was surprised when Drew rose up on his hind legs and rested his paws on her chest, almost knocking her off balance.
She giggled. “You must be good company for Blake.” She patted his head again and turned in the direction of the kitchen.
Although Blake hadn’t shown her around, it wasn’t hard to guess since the layout of the house seemed to be similar to hers. Besides, all she had to do was to follow the scent of freshly brewed coffee. With care, she hobbled into the adjoining room and found a mug sitting next to the coffee maker.
After pouring a cup for herself, Jennifer sat at the dinette and took stock of her surroundings in the light of day. She had no idea how he lived, but judging by the limited provisions around her, Blake seemed to be a simple man.
The memory of their kiss surfaced, and another wave of shame filled her. She had acted on impulse when she’d returned his kiss, but had he not pushed her away, and stopping had been the last thing in her mind.
Jennifer intended to have him drive her home as soon as he appeared. If the prospect of limping outside on a crutch in this heat didn’t make her break out in an exhausted sweat, she would have started the long walk home now.
Halfway through her first cup, the telephone rang. She debated whether to answer the call, but Blake had given Officer Cortez the number in case he had news about the break-in.
As soon as she picked up the receiver, a reprimanding female voice lashed out. “Blake Connor, didn’t I teach you better manners? You should be ashamed of yourself, letting your poor mother worry about you.”
Jennifer pulled the phone away and stared at it.
Should I say something or just hang up?
Her good manners prevailed. “Hello? I’m sorry, but Blake isn’t home at the moment.” She cringed at the sound of her voice.
“Oh . . . I’m so sorry.”
Jennifer gripped the phone and struggled for the right thing to fill the silence.
It’s okay, Mrs. Connor. I’m not just some random woman . . . here . . . at your son’s home . . . first thing in the morning . . . well, I am, but . . . I’m just a friend.
Oh yeah, sounds great!
“I’m Claire, Blake’s mother. Who am I speaking with?”
“Um, I-I-I’m Jennifer . . . Jennifer Owens, Mrs. Connor. My house was burglarized last night and I’m a neighbor and I cut my foot on a broken vase and Blake offered for me to stay for the night while I get my window fixed.” She leaned on the wall to support her body and tried to catch her breath.
“Oh my! Are you okay?” The pure concern in Mrs. Connor’s voice made Jennifer ache for her own mother.
“Yes. Blake took me to the ER last night, and I’m waiting for a call from the police department to see if they have any information on the burglar.”
“Blake did? Bless his heart. I’m glad
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