Second Time's the Charm

Except it was.

Which pissed her off. Or something.

God, what was the matter with her?

“I can come back and do these later if you’re busy in here,” he said, his big brown eyes seeming to see her, the sink and tub, and probably any hair she’d lost while she’d hurriedly showered during the time it had taken him to drive from the cactus jelly plant to her place.

“No!” Giving the counter one last swipe with the paper towel in her hand, she took a deep breath. “Really, it’s fine. I’ll just go.”

She retreated to her office to look at the pile of bills she put off paying until they were absolutely due because she hated the paperwork involved.

Kirk hadn’t minded household bookkeeping. He’d been good at it. And good at spending whatever was left over each month, too.

With her computer screen open to her online bill payment screen, Lillie was typing in the last amount when Jon’s voice sounded behind her.

“I’m really sorry to bother you,” he said. “But I could use your help if you’ve got a second.”

Lillie jumped. Bought herself a breath of time to calm down as she minimized her screen. And followed him out the door.

“There’s hard-water corrosion on your shutoff valve.” He chatted as he led her through her living room and down the hall toward the bathroom. His ass was rock solid, sitting above thighs that were clearly muscled. And perfectly proportioned. Probably had a lot of hair on them. She’d seen the dark chest hair curling at the opening of his shirt the other day.

She was a hair girl—liked it gone on her but all over her man. Her preference was natural, instinctive—necessary for the procreation of the human species.

It had nothing to do with Jon Swartz.

“I’m going to have to replace the valve,” he was saying. “I had one in the truck, just in case.”

His tight ass preceded her down the hall. And turned into her bathroom.

“If you could just turn on the shower while I hold this bucket under here...” Now he was lying flat on his back on her floor, scooting himself beneath the sink. “I’d have done it myself, but the bucket I have won’t fit under the lines. I have to hold it at an angle.”

As he shifted his body, her gaze collided with his zipper. And it stuck there. She couldn’t help herself. She looked.

Her body reacted.

And on the floor not too far away, in a very neat pile, was her bin of nail polish, her hair spray, a container filled to the brim with hair ties. And a brand-new box of tampons.

“Why do you need the shower on?” Her words came out more sharply than she’d intended, so she added, as she stepped over the tools and opened her shower curtain, “I thought you shut off the water to the house.”

“I did, but there’s always water left in the lines, and if you open the shower faucet, the pressure will release the water that’s resting in these pipes. I catch it now, or catch it in the face later when I change the shutoff valve. If everything was working properly, I’d just shut off the valve and that would take care of any excess water in the lines. Since it isn’t, it’s less messy this way.”

Without another word, Lillie turned on the shower. Water gushed. And then, almost immediately, slowed to a mere trickle.

Jon emerged from under the sink with a bucket sloshing a couple of inches of water.

“Thanks,” he said, reaching for a heavy-duty-looking wrench from the big toolbox he’d carried in.

Those same hands had moved her personal items.

“If you don’t mind hanging around, I could use your help again in a minute,” Jon said from beneath the sink. Steel clanged against steel—tool against pipe. “It’ll be a lot easier to fasten the new faucets if you could hold them straight for me while I’m under here tightening them.”

He knew what brands of products she used.

“Sure. No problem.” She’d just stand there. Waiting.

There was that zipper again. Lillie tried to swallow, but there was nothing there. Her throat was uncomfortably dry. Other parts of her were uncomfortably wet.

Because a good-looking man was in her bathroom? Changing a faucet?