What a Man's Gotta Do Read Online Free PDF Page A

mumbled something about it not being a problem, and instead of letting it drop, like a smart man might’ve done, he heard himself say, “You tellin’ me you haven’t even gone out with anybody since your husband left?”
    Her chin shot up, right along with her dander. Not to mention the color in her cheeks.
    â€œI don’t see how that’s any of your business.”
    He let out a sigh. “You’re right, and I apologize. Guess that’s why I’ve never been much good at conversation. Can’t seem to talk to anyone for more’n five minutes without pissin’ ’em off. Which is why I suppose I prefer to keep to myself. Less hurt feelings that way.”
    After a moment, she said, “I don’t wound easily, Mr. King. Not anymore, at least. But if you prefer your own company, that’s fine with me. I’m only looking for a tenant, not a buddy.”
    â€œWhich I suppose means you’re not gonna answer my question.”
    Her eyes narrowed. He chuckled. Why, he didn’t know, but something about this woman brought out the worst in him. Or the best, depending on how you looked at it. “No, I didn’t think so. Okay—you want cash or a money order for the first month’s rent?”
    â€œMaybe…you should have a look at the place first?”
    â€œFair enough. Give me the address. I’ll be over tonight.”
    â€œ151 Mason. Three blocks east, one north. Two story house, white with blue shutters. Can’t miss it—the yard looks like a Little Tykes graveyard. Oh, but I won’t be there until after eight-thirty. The kids have a thing at school.”
    â€œGot it.” He straightened up, started toward the door, then turned back. And this time, he saw a protective set to the lady’s jaw that he doubted had anything to do with her children.
    Eddie considered several things he might say, only to decide anything he might come up with would only land him in a heap of trouble.
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    You wouldn’t think it would take so long to gather up a duffel bag, check out of a motel, then hit the grocery store for a few essentials, but it was nearly nine by the time Eddie got to Mala’s house. Being as her Escort was hogging the driveway, he pulled the Camaro up in front, smirking at the white picket fence bordering the toy-strewn yard. A pair of rangy, almost bare trees fragmented the lukewarm porch light, further littering the snow-dusted lawn with grostesque, undulating shadows. It had cleared up; he got out of the car, hauling in a lungful of sharp, metallic air as he swung open the screaking gate at the foot of the walk.
    His boots seemed to make an awful lot of noise as he made his way up to her front door.
    Still in the same skirt and sweater she’d been wearing earlier, Mala opened the door before he hit the steps, one finger to her lips. “The kids are asleep,” she whispered when he reached the top. Coffee-scented warmth beckoned from inside. “Come on in while I get the keys to the apartment.”
    He wiped his boots on the doormat, then did as she asked, quietly shutting the door behind him. The old-fashioned entryway was dimly lit, but enough for him to take in the wide staircase hugging one photo-lined wall, the faded Oriental rugs scattered crookedly on the scuffed wooden floor. And Mala. Her feet encased in thick, slouchy socks, she stood with one arm hugging her ribs, the other hand fiddling with a small gold loop in her ear. Caution hovered like a mistreated pup in her light eyes, at odds with the directness, the generosity of spirit that he now realized was what had intrigued him so much all those years ago. A tiny, fierce burst of protectiveness exploded in his chest, scaring the very devil out of him.
    â€œWant some coffee?” she asked. “I just made it.”
    Eddie caught the automatic “no, thanks” before it hit his mouth. Fact was, a cup of coffee sounded great, and he