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afraid she might lose her balance and fall, she sat down. Then using her hands for support, she took the stairs slowly on her butt.
    “I like resourceful women,” Gabe said, coming around the corner.
    Janie shot him a look, but didn’t bother responding.
    “Hungry?”
    “A little. Do I smell coffee and bacon?” When she reached the last step, Gabe held out his hand and helped her to her feet. He ran his gaze over her tank top and denim shorts, lingering on her bare feet a moment before meeting her eyes again.
    “Yes. And I made you a cheese omelet.”
    He’d obviously gone shopping, because her kitchen wasn’t stocked with things like bacon and eggs. She mostly lived on take-out, or whatever leftovers Sara pushed on her. “Not so fast,” she said when Gabe started to pull her along. “This is my first hangover, you know. Hey, wait a minute! What happened to my living room? And where’s all my stuff?”
    He stopped, running a hand through his thick, dark hair. “I straightened it up. As challenging as it was, I managed to find mates for all the shoes, and I tossed the clothing items in the hamper in your bedroom. It’s full, by the way. I got rid of all the old newspapers and fast food wrappers, too. And I loaded the dishwasher and ran the vacuum cleaner.” When she only stared at him with her mouth open, he rambled on. “I hope you weren’t planning on eating any of the furry leftovers in your refrigerator because I deep-sixed them. And while you were showering, I changed the sheets on your bed and cleared off your bedroom floor. Did you know you had carpeting under all those piles of clothes?”
    “Very funny. So, how am I supposed to find anything now?”
    “You’re kidding, right?”
    She stuck out her chin, met his gaze. She found him irritating and pragmatic at the same time. “I happen to like the messy look. It’s in right now.” He was still holding her hand, she noticed as she leaned against him for support. “Besides, when I’m in my writing mode I’m totally absorbed in my characters and my story. I can’t be bothered with little things like cleaning. So I’m a little messy . So what.”
    “Jane, you’re not a little messy, you’re a slob. Maybe you should take a few lessons from Sara. It amazes me how you and your sister are so different from one another.”
    “You should talk.” She was referring to him and Alex, and he knew it.
    “Point taken. C’mon, the food’s getting cold.”
    He walked slowly this time, his big hand--with those long fingers--wrapped around hers, and led her to the kitchen. There should be a law against men wearing jeans that looked that good, she thought. He’d set two places at the table and had already filled their plates with bacon, eggs and buttered wheat toast.
    “This looks heavenly,” she told him. The sound of the chair scraping against the vinyl floor made her wince, but she didn’t complain. Gabe nodded for her to sit. “I don’t think I’ve ever eaten a meal at the table before. This will be a real treat.” Then she eyed the tall glass of red liquid in front of her. “What’s this?”
    “A great hangover remedy. Don’t ask what’s in it, just drink it.” He picked up a bottle of aspirin from the kitchen counter and shook two out into his palm. “Here , take these.”
    Janie picked up the glass and sniffed. It smelled like tomato juice. So, it couldn’t be too bad. She popped the aspirin in her mouth and took a huge swig of the thick, red liquid. “That’s disgusting!” With a sour face, she pushed the glass aside.
    “Drink it down,” he ordered, picking up the glass and holding it in front of her face. “C’mon, don’t be a baby.”
    “I’m not a--”
    “That’s a good girl,” Gabe said, pressing the glass to her lips until she had no choice but to drink.
    The second swallow wasn’t quite so lethal, and by the time she’d drained the glass, the mixture had started to grow on her. She’d forgotten all about the