Miss Fix-It

Where was the squabbling of the kids? Why weren’t they yelling at each other? That was their M.O., after all.

“Hey,” Brantley’s voice came from the doorway. “How are you doing?”

I shifted from my knees to my ass and looked over at him. Damn it, he looked good in a white polo shirt and light, ripped jeans. “Hey—good. You?”

“Good.” He paused, pursing those full lips of his. “Shit, it’s quiet.”

“That was my next question,” I said teasingly. “Did you leave them in the candy aisle at Irma’s store?”

He laughed, a deep, rich sound that sent goosebumps up my bare legs. “No. I’m sure she wouldn’t appreciate that.”

“I don’t know. It’d give Mr. Pickles something else to chase than customers’ ankles.”

“Mr—oh, that cat.”

“Ah, you’ve met the town’s resident sweetheart.”

Another laugh. “Fortunately, I was wearing jeans. Protected myself well.”

“Smart,” I agreed. “Where are the twins, if not terrorizing Mr. Pickles?”

“Trial afternoon at daycare,” he said slowly. “No preschool in Rock Bay apparently.”

I shook my head. “Nothing until Kindergarten. Not enough kids in the area. Are they at Summer’s?”

“How do you—never mind. Small town.” His lips quirked. “Would you believe she knew everything about me before I’d even walked through the door?”

I dragged my lower lip between my teeth, grinning.

His eyes flickered down.

I think.

Damn, I’d been looking at plain walls for too long.

“Absolutely. Half the town probably know your security number and birth weight by now.”

His eyes widened, making the turquoise hue of his irises seem ten times brighter. “Seriously?”

The shock that saddled his expression made me giggle. “No. I’m messing with you. But don’t put it past Irma…Or Marcie at the Coastal.”

He relaxed, shoulders slumping, but he laughed lightly at the mention of Marcie. “Ah, yes. We just met for the first time. I saw she did take-out lunch on my way out of Summer’s place, and stopped in.”

“My condolences,” I offered. “It’s always stressful to meet Marcie for the first time. So I hear. And see when she deals with people’s unruly dates.”

“Unruly dates?” He quirked a dark eyebrow. “Experience with that?”

I held up a hand and fluttered my eyes shut. “Don’t. Just, don’t.”

He laughed. “Story for another time, right?”

“Sure, if by ‘another time’ you mean never.”

A lopsided, half-grin took over his face, making his eyes sparkle. “She heard you’re working for me—but you’re not surprised at that, are you?”

“About as surprised as if you told me the temperature outside feels like we’re halfway up Satan’s ass.”

That grin turned into another bout of laughter. Goosebumps tripled in quantity at the sound as they took over my arms. God, I wouldn’t look colder if I were naked in the Arctic.

“Well, she gave me twice the amount of food she should have, and ordered me to make sure you were well fed. Apparently, she’s able to make me wish I was never born if I don’t.”

“She’s feisty.”

“No kidding. Thanks for the warning.”

“Write me a list of the places you need to go next and I’ll give you the rundown.” I grinned.

“I’ll make sure I do.” He folded his arms across his chest. “So, I have lunch for you downstairs. It beats eating alone. Care to join me?”

I glanced over him quickly.

I’d had worse offers—and dates, lately. Not that this was a date. No, this was Mar—

Shit the bed. She knew what she was doing here.

I was going to kick her ass next time I saw her.

Just not too hard. ‘Cause, you know. She saved my ass more times than she needed hers kicked.

“Let me finish up this edging, then I’ll meet you downstairs,” I said. “Is that okay?”

He nodded. “She said it’s your favorite.”

“Oh my god, she made her pasta?”

“I asked her what was the best, and she said the pasta you love.”

I bit the inside of my cheek. “Is it unprofessional if I say screw it, I’ll finish this after pasta?”

A smile crept back onto his face. “I won’t tell if you don’t. Take it as my apology for my kids terrorizing you at the start of the week.”

“I wouldn’t say they terrorized me,” I said slowly, laying my brush on the side of the roller tray. I set the lid on the paint can and pushed it in just enough I’d be able to pop it off again without trouble.

“You’re too nice.” His eyes twinkled. “You can say it how it is—I won’t be offended. Fuck knows they terrorize me at seven a.m. every day.”

“I’m maintaining my stance,” I replied, trying not to meet his eyes, because I knew I’d get butterflies if I did.

There was something about the way his damn eyes sparkled.

“It’s best if I finish this edging.” I picked the brush back up. “I’ll be down in a few minutes. I don’t have much left on this wall.”

He glanced at the wall and where I was sitting. “Sounds good. I have some work to handle—I’ll keep it warm.”