Read Fix You for Free Online Page A

it’s a bad whim, just tell me.” His brow crinkles a little above those very blue eyes.
    I wake up. “Oh, shit! I have to get my kids.” I start the car and gun it a little, rushing now to get across town.
    It’s ten minutes to three—the bell at school will be ringing, and Hunter and Beau will be standing on the curb waiting for me. I need to get my kids, but there’s no way I can do that with a man in my car. Fabulous movie star or no, the boys haven’t seen me with a guy since their dad. I haven’t had coffee with anyone, I haven’t done a single thing with anyone of the opposite sex who was not related to me or one of my friends, and I certainly haven’t dated anyone since their dad. Not that I am dating this person, but still, what will the boys think when they meet him? Will they freak out? How badly will they freak out?
    My hands shake all of a sudden. Andrew is still looking at me.
    “Okay, I have to drop you somewhere.”
    Now he looks really confused. “What?”
    “I have to drop you somewhere. I can’t think straight, and I have to pick my kids up, and you can’t be in the car when I get them. Then I have to think of something to say to them about you…” I trail off. We drive through downtown, headed toward the school.
    “You didn’t tell them you met me?”
    “I didn’t tell anyone about you. I didn’t think I’d ever see you again.” Now I’m blushing.
    “I got your number, and you didn’t tell a soul about me?”
    “I thought you were just being polite. I didn’t think you’d actually call. Or show up in my town. So, no.”
    “Geez. I appreciate you being discreet, but really…”
    We’re about to pass my house when inspiration strikes. I turn the car hard into the alley, throwing Andrew against the passenger side door.
    “What are you doing?” He looks a little panicked now.
    I brake hard and stop the car behind our garage. It used to be a standalone one-car, but the owners before us built it out with a loft above, which is connected to the house by a catwalk to the second-story deck. Peter used it as his man cave—watched TV and tuned skis in it. Since he’s gone, I put a bed in there so guests can stay, but it’s not a place I can spend much time in yet. It’s still Peter’s room.
    “Wait here.” I grip the steering wheel and smile at him, take a deep breath and blow my bangs out of my face. I’m kind of proud of myself for thinking of a solution.
    “In an alley?”
    I nod.
    “You’re ditching me in an alley.” He chews on his lip.
    “No, no, this is the back of my house. It’s our garage—a guest room, not just a garage. There’s a guest room over the garage. It connects to the house. Just wait here. I’ll get the boys, and I’ll figure out a way to introduce you. We can hide you in the guest room while you stay for the weekend.”
    “You do know I’m not wanted by the law, right?” He smiles a little.
    Thank God, because I’m pretty sure this is the worst hostess behavior I’ve ever exhibited in my life. There have to be thousands of Andy Pettigrew devotees who would skin me alive at this moment. Or offer to take my guest off my hands in a heartbeat.
    “I just don’t know about you staying in the house. Since Peter died, I just…” I seem to be running out of words a lot with this man.
    He breathes in. “No, I understand. Your boys might jump to conclusions. You don’t want to weird them out. I get what you’re thinking.” He swings the door open and nods. “Go get your boys. I’m fine. I’ll hang out back here and try not to look felonious.”
    “I do want to hang out with you. I think you’ll like Boise. I just need to figure it out.”
    “Go get them.”
    “I’ll text you when we get back to the house.”
    So I pull away, leaving my apparent friend, the international movie star, in an alley while I drive to the grade school of my two children. Life has officially become completely absurd. Maybe this is some French movie.
    And