With Strings Attached Read Online Free PDF Page B

looked around, wondering if he could defend himself with his crutches if he needed to. But the street was empty. He heard footsteps inside and the door opened.
    “Hi.” Corey stepped outside and locked her door behind her, then dropped her keys into her big leather purse. “Thanks for picking me up. I could have met you there.”
    “No worries,” he said. Would it be rude to ask about why she lived there? “So, uh…this seems an unusual place to live.”
    She waited for him to gimp his way down the short sidewalk to the street. “Yeah, I know. I live here because it’s where I make my chocolate.”
    He rounded the front of the rental car. “Chocolate?”
    “Yeah. It’s what I do for a living. I make chocolate.”
    “No shit?”
    She laughed and they climbed in and did up seat belts. “No shit. I needed space for a commercial kitchen and I found this. I turned the upstairs into an apartment. It’s pretty small, but the rent is cheap and I was able to get my business license and food-handling permits to make my chocolates here.”
    “That’s cool.”
    “It’s not where I’d choose to live, if I had a choice. Obviously, I’d rather live near the beach or somewhere I could have a little yard. Like Matt’s place.” She shrugged. “But it won’t be forever, I hope. So why’s Matt working tonight?”
    “Someone called in sick or something. He went into the office to do some work this afternoon and ended up staying.”
    “That’s too bad. But he loves bartending. That’s what he was doing when we met.”
    “I’m stoked to see his place.”
    “It’s great. It’s really popular. The food is good, and of course the beer is great.”
    Dylan knew exactly where Laguna Dorada Brew Pub was located, although the last time he’d been there it had been a fish and chips restaurant. Right on Shore Drive across from the beach, it was a bitching location for a brew pub. He parked in the nearly full lot behind the building and they walked around front. The neon sign cast a blue and gold glow as he went to open the door, but Corey beat him to it and held it open for him. Shit. He was supposed to be opening doors for her, but that was tricky on crutches. He swallowed his sigh of frustration and entered the pub.
    The hostess smiled at him and he returned it with one of his own. “We’re going into the bar,” he told her.
    “By all means.” She extended a hand to indicate the bar on his left and Corey followed him into the vibrant atmosphere. Talking voices and laughter, music and clinking glasses filled the dimly lit room. The scent of some kind of char-broiled meat made him realize how hungry he was. He took in the stylish rock walls, big arched windows looking out onto the street and the beach, a long wooden bar lined with stools with small pendant lights above. Most of the tables were occupied with people eating and drinking, talking and laughing, and a lot of the stools at the bar had people seated on them too.
    “Down at the end,” Corey said in his ear, up on her tiptoes. “There are two seats.”
    He headed toward the empty stools and spotted Matt behind the bar, pulling a draft for someone. He slid awkwardly onto the stool, trying to maneuver his crutches, then lifted a hand and caught Matt’s eye. Matt’s face broke into a grin and he moved toward them.
    “Hey, buddy,” he said. He looked at Corey, and Dylan saw his smile change subtly, a slight softening and warming. “Hey, Cor. What can I get you guys?”
    “What do you recommend?” Dylan asked, picking up a small menu card. “This is quite a list.”
    “I’ll start you out with Riptide Red Ale.”
    Dylan grinned. “Riptide, huh? Okay.”
    Matt moved away and Dylan turned to Corey, seated on the stool to his right. He took the opportunity to admire her. She wasn’t a girly girl, dressed in skirts or particularly revealing clothes; both times he’d seen her she’d been wearing jeans and T-shirts. She didn’t wear much makeup. But damn,