Montana Homecoming. Jillian Hart

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put more physical distance between them?

       All good questions. The fact that she actually felt a little comfortable with him surprised her more. Maybe it was how he’d protected her earlier in the courtroom corridor, hauling her purposefully away from the nosy reporter. She wasn’t good at letting anyone do something for her, even family. She’d become very self-reliant. Maybe too self-reliant. His help had felt nice.

       Liam gave the front door a push, closing it with a final click. He squared his shoulders as he surveyed the room. “I’ve been wanting to redecorate anyway.”

       Funny. She liked that about him, too. The left side of his mouth crooked upward into a grin and a dimple dug into his lean cheek. Totally a likeable guy.

       “Do you know what you need?” She did her best to drag her gaze away from his riveting dimple.

       “A swift kick for my brilliant idea to get a dog?”

       “No, because it was a brilliant idea. You saved him. You gave him a new life.” She tried to sound casual, keeping her approval tucked down deep. Did she succeed? Who knew? She suspected probably not. “What you need is someone to help you clean up this mess.”

       “You would do that?” Liam’s gaze harpooned her and she could see into him, where his kindness lived.

       “Why not?” She wasn’t affected by him. Really. And that was the story she was sticking with. “I like to help where I can, and let’s face it, you have a problem here. It’s hard to believe one dog could do so much damage.”

       “Wait till you see the kitchen.” The dimple cutting into his cheek deepened and so did the gleam in his eyes. “That’s nice of you, Brooke. It’s the best offer I’ve had all day.”

       “Probably the only offer you’ve had all day.”

       “True.” His chuckle rumbled smooth and warm like butter melting, and a matching dimple bracketed the right corner of his mouth. For most women that would probably be irresistible.

       Good thing she was immune.

       “I may as well feed you since you’re here anyway.” A casual invitation as he knelt to gather up a bunch of DVD cases. Most of them only had a few teeth marks. “I’ve got some meat defrosting in the kitchen. All I can offer you is a hamburger.”

       “I’ve never met a hamburger I haven’t liked.”

       “Excellent. Another thing we have in common.”

       “You’re counting?” She rescued a couch cushion from the floor.

       “Just making conversation. Trying to figure out the puzzle that is Brooke McKaslin.”

       “I’m a puzzle?”

       “Only in that I don’t know anything about you.” He set the DVDs on a shelf. “I’ve known Colbie and Lil for years, ever since they moved in next door to my grandmother. We attend the same church.”

       “Then why didn’t I see you at yesterday’s service?” She studied him with an analytical arch to her amazing blue eyes and it made his heart catch.

       That lurch in his chest bothered him.

       “Let me guess.” He rescued more DVDs from the floor. “You went to the early service.”

       “And you didn’t?”

       “Nope. I find it tough to get up early on Sunday.”

       “Ah, another piece of the puzzle that is Liam Knightly.”

       “I’m no puzzle. With me, what you see is what you get.”

       “That’s too bad.”

       He rolled his eyes, laughing along with her. He rescued a few stray DVDs that still might work once the dried slobber was cleaned off. He gave them a swipe with his sleeve. “So, what do you do besides coming to the rescue of desperate dog owners?”

       “I’ll let you know. I’m currently unemployed.”

       “Ouch. Been there.” He matched up DVDs with their mangled cases, but where were his eyes? Watching her. “It was long, long ago but I remember it clearly. Unemployment is not fun.”

       “No, but I’m not dwelling on it. Something will work out.” She straightened the last cushion. Her movements, graceful and self-conscious, stole him. It was as if she’d reached right over and tried grabbing his heart.

       “Well, something worked out for you today. Oscar is your next job.” He swallowed against the tightness in his throat, but nothing could dispel the odd sensation of almost being caught by her.

       He didn’t want to be caught by anyone.

       “I’m sure Oscar will be the best job I’ve ever had. He’s a sweetie.”

       “I’m glad you think so.” He ambled around the coffee table, still on its side, and bent to right it. “Colbie might keep finding you work.”

       “You never know. She’s certainly determined.” She dug in her purse and withdrew a packet of needles and different-colored thread bobbins. “I think she wants me to find something here so that I’ll stay in Montana.”

       “Do you want to stay?” He heaved the oak coffee table onto all four legs, watching her through his lashes.

       “I don’t know.” Her voice dipped. “I’ve gotten used to life in Seattle.”

       “Oh, I get it. You have someone there. A boyfriend?” Why was he disappointed? He should not be bummed because Brooke had a significant other.

       “No, no way. Just a life I’ve gotten comfortable with.” She held up a length of thread to one of the couch cushions, nodded and chose a needle.

       No boyfriend? Why was he relieved? “Sometimes you have to step out of your comfort zone. Take a risk.”

       “I’ve done that. Got burned.” She shrugged, oddly vulnerable and trying to hide it. “Lived to regret it. Hugely.”

       “Who hasn’t?”

       “True.” He didn’t know what it was about her that drew him. It was a mystery he had to figure out. Was it her honesty, like the quietest note of a hymn, that hooked him? Or the promise of an amazing spirit that went along with her breath-stealing beauty? He wished he knew. One thing he liked was a puzzle. It was the reporter in him. He had to know more, so he tried again. “What do you do for a living?”

       “A little of this, a little of that.” She threaded the needle. “I think the couch cushion is totally salvageable, but what about that throw pillow?”

       “Not a chance of saving it, and I’m the one asking the questions.” He swept up the pillow missing half its stuffing. He had more pressing matters, mainly the intrigue of Brooke McKaslin. “Where did you go to college?”

       “I didn’t.”

       Curious. He would have pegged her for

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