In a Heartbeat Read Online Free PDF Page B

to see an orthopedic doctor. With those words of wisdom, a pair of crutches and an elastic stocking to control the swelling, she was discharged from the clinic.
    Renard had only raised an eyebrow when the nurses had recognized her on sight. And if he thought it strange that they had listened to her chest and took her blood pressure before looking at her foot, he didn’t comment. He chuckled with the rest of them when the doctor pronounced this “a common injury”. His absence of questions made the ride home a bit awkward but now as they sat in his car across from her house, the silence became downright annoying.
    “You live here all alone?” he asked, assessing the old two-story brick building.
    “I live with my mother.” She reached behind the bucket seat, trying to grasp the crutches in the back, but Oreo kept interfering. “But she’s in Florida right now with my sick aunt.” She pushed the furry head back,
    “Stop that.”
    “And your father?”
    The question drew her up short. She stopped fishing for the crutches and glanced up into Renard’s eyes. “He died about ten years ago. Heart failure.”
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    In a Heartbeat
    “I’m sorry,” he said, a bit awkwardly. He glanced about, at everything but her. Eventually, his gaze found the house.
    “How do you plan to get up the porch steps?” He turned back toward her, one brow raised.
    “I’ll manage,” she answered tersely, though in truth, she wondered the same thing.
    “Isn’t there someone who could help you, a neighbor, a significant other?”
    She laughed at the suggestion of a boyfriend. “No, just Oreo and me.”
    She scratched between the dog’s floppy ears. “Right, girl?”
    “And the dog?” He petted the furry white head as it extended further and further between the seats. Oreo’s tail thumped out a rhythm against the back seat. “You’ll be able to manage this terror on paws all alone while on crutches?”
    That one stumped her for a moment. She supposed she could call Stephen. He should be back by now, but she dreaded the smothering attention that plea would bring. Wasn’t she the one who had demanded independence? The one who had asked her family to stop interfering in her life as if she were still an invalid, too weak to do anything but ask for help?
    “Is she housebroken?”
    Indignity on behalf of her pet flooded her. “Of course she is,” she snapped, “not that it should matter to—”
    “Give me your keys.”
    “Excuse me?” Indignity on her own behalf made her twist sideways so she could face him. She scooted her back to the door to maintain distance. “Why do you want my keys?”
    “The company provided me with a fully furnished ranch-style house to use until I find a place of my own.” He spoke more to the windshield than to her face. “There are four bedrooms, no stairs to hobble up and down, and plenty of room for Fido here.”
    “Oreo,” she corrected, “and the answer is no.”

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    “Look, I’m not interested in anything but giving you an alternative to doing permanent damage to your ankle.” He turned toward her. “The house is too big for one person.” His lips turned up in a faint smile. “We wouldn’t even have to see each other, if you like.”
    “Mr. Renard…”
    “Hank,” he interjected. She glanced up. “My friends call me Hank.
    And after our chance meeting this afternoon, you know parts of me better than my best friend.”
    She lowered her gaze, her memory of that meeting burning bright on her cheeks. “Okay, Hank. It’s not that I don’t appreciate your offer, but I can’t afford to lose my job.”
    “Who said anything about losing your job?”
    She looked up at him askance. “You did. Twice.”
    He dismissed her response with a wave of his hand. “I wasn’t serious.
    You just…managed to catch me at a bad time.”
    Skeptical, she wondered if he ever had a good time. She took a breath. “If Falstaff and