Mr. February Read Online Free

the one to do that,” Rafe volunteered. His own words and gruff tone pulled him up short. What had gotten into him?
    “I expected JR to help, but whenever I need a hand, he manages to be gone.” She blew out an exasperated breath.
    “Watch out for this guy,” Gus warned, jerking his thumb Rafe’s way. “We call him ‘stud’ for a reason.”
    Rafe rolled his eyes. “Don’t believe everything either of these fools tell you.”
    She didn’t comment. “Your jacket is in the dryer. I’d planned to drop it by the station, but since you’re here… I’ll see if it’s dry, and grab some flyers for the pottery class.”
    She disappeared inside.
    “Loaning her your jacket—nice move,” Hank said.
    Gus nodded. “No wonder you’re building a house here. Jillian’s hot.”
    That Rafe agreed bothered him. “She’s a free spirit,” he said.
    “Then she probably doesn’t want to be tied down any more than you.”
    Rafe narrow-eyed him. “I wouldn’t know, and who the hell cares?”
    “It’s just an observation,” Gus muttered.
    “Rafe has a point,” Hank said. “Dating her would make for a difficult neighborly relationship after the breakup. Because, sooner or later, he always breaks up with them.”
    Jillian returned with flyers and jacket, neatly folded. She passed out flyers and then handed Rafe the jacket. “Thanks again for letting me borrow this.”
    As he took it from her, his fingers brushed hers. Yesterday her skin had been cold. Today she felt warm, nice and warm.
    His body took notice and began to stir. Damn . “I need food,” he told the guys.
    He nodded at Jillian and took off.
    *
    The exterior of the studio wasn’t exactly huge, but Jillian’s aching arms thought so. Pushing the paint roller over the siding proved challenging—especially the area above her head.
    “Why couldn’t you stick around and help, JR, as you promised?” she grumbled.
    He and Chelsea had left this morning while she showered, the little sneaks. Jillian had no idea when they would return, but, knowing JR, it would be after she finished the job, probably just in time for dinner.
    She couldn’t take much more of this.
    Her empty stomach growled. As determined as she was to finish painting today, while the weather cooperated, she needed food, and her arms needed a rest. Lunchtime.
    Over a sandwich, she thought more about her brother. If he could find a job, he and Chelsea could move out. He wasn’t looking very hard, and Jillian was beginning to wonder if he even wanted to work. This worried her. Who would take care of Chelsea and the baby?
    Why couldn’t he be more responsible? Why couldn’t he be more like Rafe? Yes, Rafe was too meticulous and controlled for her tastes, but he had a good job and seemed a genuinely decent guy.
    Plus, he was yummy to look at. She let out a dreamy sigh. He and his two equally buff firefighter friends had no business jogging past her house in shorts and tees.
    Since the breakup with Douglas, Jillian had dated her share of men uninterested serious relationships. Until recently, she’d felt the same way.
    But now that she wanted a baby, she needed to find a man ready to settle down and start a family. Which meant steering clear of guys like Rafe. Labeled a stud by his own friends.
    Jillian didn’t expect to see him again, and there was no point in thinking about him.
    She finished the sandwich and returned to the great outdoors to resume painting.
    She was maneuvering the roller and trying to hold her shaking arms steady when she heard a car pull up the driveway. The purring engine did not belong to JR’s rattling van. Glanced over her shoulder, she noted Rafe’s BMW pulling to a stop near her sedan.
    He’d come back. As she clambered down the ladder, her wayward heart lifted.
    In one smooth, graceful motion, he slid out of his car. Faded jeans hugged his muscular legs, and a faded T-shirt clung to his broad shoulders and flat belly. Firefighters—Cool under pressure , the