Falling Read Online Free Page A

driveway.
    â€œWhere do you live?” she asks. “Did you walk over here?”
    â€œIt seemed silly to drive,” says Dominic, gesturing to a large red pickup truck in the driveway next door. “Given that I live next door.”
    â€œYou do? Why didn’t you say anything?”
    â€œWhat if it had freaked you out?” he says.
    â€œWhat if it’s freaking me out now?”
    â€œIs it?”
    â€œA little.” Emma frowns. This is something he should have mentioned. Surely this is relevant. She knows nothing about him, she realizes, thinking how unbalanced that is.
    â€œDon’t let it. I inherited both of these houses from my grandparents when they died. They lived in this one, and rented out the one I now live in. I do the opposite. I live next door with my kid, Jesse. It helps to supplement my meager income as bartender-slash-carpenter.”
    â€œYou have a kid? Sweet. How old is he?”
    â€œSix. He’s the coolest. You’ll meet him soon. I’m surprised he hasn’t poked his nose in already to meet the new neighbor.”
    â€œThank you for the warning! I’ll look out for him. So you’re a bartender? That’s cool. Where do you work?”
    â€œThe Fat Hen?” He looks at her, expecting a reaction.
    She stares at him, not sure what she is supposed to say. “Great.”
    â€œYou don’t know it?”
    Emma starts to laugh. “How would I know it? I’ve been living in town for, oh”—she looks at her watch—“approximately four hours and thirty-six minutes.”
    â€œWe’ve been on Guy Fieri’s show.” His chest puffs up proudly. “
Diners, Drive-Ins and Dives
?”
    His pride is endearing. Emma smiles as she watches him, certain now that whoever said all men are little boys at heart was right. “Should I have seen it?”
    He gasps. “Yes! Yes, you should have seen it! It’s the greatest show ever invented.”
    He’s sweet, she realizes. A big kid. “I’m not a big television watcher,” Emma admits reluctantly.
    â€œHow about the games?”
    â€œWhat games?”
    â€œWeekend sports. Baseball. Basketball. Come on. You’ve got to watch football, at least?”
    â€œNope.” Emma shakes her head and laughs. “I’m so sorry, but not even football.” She peers at him. “When you say football, do you actually mean American football? Or
real
football?”
    â€œYou mean soccer? Soccer is soccer and football is football. What’s American football?”
    The teasing is fun. She hasn’t had a sparky, teasing conversation for a very long time, she realizes. Her old colleagues took themselves too seriously to engage in conversations like this. “American football? It’s like rugby for wimps. With helmets and padding.”
    â€œOh, ha ha,” says Dominic, shaking his head. “I think maybe we should take the topic of sports off the table. You should come down to the Fat Hen, though. I’m working tonight. I’ll get you a good seat at the bar and make sure you’re looked after.” He leans forward, lowering his voice conspiratorially. “First shot’s on me.”
    â€œShot!” Emma barks with laughter. “Good lord! Do I look like a shot girl to you?”
    â€œEveryone looks like a shot girl to me. What’s the point of drinking if you don’t start off with a shot? Tell you what. I’ll help haul boxes for you if you promise to come and have a drink at the Hen tonight. It’s the perfect introduction to town. The real Westport. Not the prettied-up, perfect version.”
    Emma appraises him. Of course he doesn’t like the prettied-up, perfect version of anything. How could he? Everything about this man is real.
Integrity
, she finds herself thinking.
He has integrity.
“I suppose we’ll find out tonight which I prefer,” she says, challenging him