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lady-killer of McKinley High. Many women would happily commit felonies just to have him put his hands on them, even in such an innocent way as this. “I can’t ask for more than that. Thank you.”
    She took a step back from him before she could start blushing or, worse, stammering. “Yeah, sure. Fine.”
    “Call me when you’ve thought it over. Got a pen? I’ll give you my cell phone number.” He spotted a ballpoint pen she’d been using to mark measurements on the lumber and picked it up. “Here, give me your hand.”
    Hesitantly, Shannon held out one hand and tried not to jump when he took hold of it to write his number down on her palm. She really was inept around men, apparently even the ones she didn’t like all that much.
    “I’m staying at a motel in the city. The Piedmont Place — kind of a dive, but cheap. You could leave me a message there, too, if you can’t get through to my cell.”
    She only half heard him, distracted by the feel of her hand in his very warm one. Her fingers must seem awfully stiff to him, but despite her best efforts, she could not will them to relax. Did he notice?
    If he did, he was careful to avoid showing it. Probably wouldn’t want to risk blowing the tentative agreement they had reached. He handed her pen back to her. “I think my five minutes were up a while ago. Thanks for letting me say my piece.”
    She shrugged, feeling awkward as usual. “I’m not making any promises.”
    “I understand.” Michael gave Bo one last scratch behind the ears. “You really should try the soup. It’s good stuff.”
    “I know. It’s even better when you eat it.”
    He blinked and then started to smile. “Well, well. She jokes. The world is full of possibilities today.” Then he put his sunglasses back on and started walking back the way he had come.
    Shannon caught herself staring at the way his jeans fit him so well and forced herself to look away. She glanced at the phone number on her hand and then met Bo’s eyes. “What?” she demanded defensively. “I’m a big girl, and I know what I’m doing.”
    She hoped.
    • • •
    Michael emerged from behind the house without the company of a canine escort this time, and as he walked back to his truck his step was lighter than it had been before.
    Finally. Finally there was a reason to hope he might be able to fix things. Well, he thought with a pang, as much they could be fixed. Some things couldn’t be undone no matter what he did now. But for the first time in recent weeks, Michael felt as if a weight might be lifting from his shoulders. It had been there for a long time, way before he ever saw the article about Drew’s plans for the family home. Certainly since his parents’ funeral. Granted, Shannon hadn’t agreed to do more than just think about helping him yet, but they at least seemed to be on better terms now.
    Their truce was a fragile one, though. He didn’t dare push his luck and hound her any further, which meant he was essentially stuck waiting by the phone and praying that Somebody up there took pity on him. He had never been good at waiting, and now when there was so much riding on one woman’s decision, it was likely to be sheer torture. Distraction was the logical course of action, but a man could only play so many games of pool before getting a little restless.
Right
, Michael thought with a self-deprecating laugh. Restless. He’d passed restless years ago and was well on his way to someplace darker than that.
    He chose to change his train of thought.
    Stopping by the driver’s side of his truck, he glanced back the way he had come.
    Shannon Mahoney. She was an interesting creature, and one that was hard for him to figure out. Sharp-tongued and handy with power tools one moment, but then blushing and awkward the next. It made for an unusual combination, one that he’d never seen in a woman before. There was something almost, well …
likeable
about it. And she was loyal, too. That much was clear. She