I Never Let You Go (I Never 3)

Allen wrench.

Alligator wrench.

Who the hell knew there were so many different wrenches? And those are just the ones that begin with the letter A. So much for a productive Sunday. I roll my eyes and huff in frustration. A clogged drain in the kitchen sink is what landed me at the local hardware store to stare at the many different wrenches. Like seriously? Who needs all these wrenches?

I reach up and grab a monkey wrench in one hand and a stubby wrench in the other. I look back and forth between the two. Eeny, meeny, miny—

“Come here often? You look like something threw a real wrench in your plans for today,” a voice says, chuckling from behind me, interrupting my decision making. Not just any voice though— I close my eyes and even out my breathing. Just because he’s back, does that mean I’ll be seeing him everywhere?

“Does that line actually work?” I spin around to see Finn staring at me.

“I don’t know, you tell me?” He tilts his head to the side.

I sigh heavily. “No. I’m already irritated that my Sunday plans got ruined. The last thing I need is cheesy pickup lines, especially coming from you.”

He clutches his chest. “You wound me, Lauren.” Lauren, not Lo. His expression softens as he approaches. “But seriously, you look lost right now. Anything I can help with?”

I turn back around and settle on the monkey wrench, placing the other wrench back on the shelf. “Nope, I’ve got it all taken care of. I can fix the kitchen sink all by myself. I don’t need anyone’s help.” My voice becomes harsher in the last sentence, which I didn’t mean, but I’m already frazzled.

He runs his hand over his chiseled jaw, looking down at the wrench. “Got it all under control, huh?” I want to slap that smug look off his face. Is he enjoying this?

“Yup,” I say, making a popping sound on the p. I begin to pass by him when his fingers lightly clutch my elbow, stopping me.

“If you have this all under control, then you know that you’re about to buy the wrong wrench.”

My mouth gapes. ”Umm.” I look down at the floor, shuffling my feet. My shoulders sink. “Okay, so maybe I have no idea what I’m doing, but I watched a YouTube video before coming here.”

He smirks and covers his teeth with his lips, holding back his laughter. “Right, a YouTube video. Why don’t you let me help you? I happen to own a pipe wrench, and I know how to use it.”

“I think I’m good.” I pull my arm from his hold, set the wrench back on its shelf, and begin to pass him. “I’ll just call a plumber.”

“Lo,” he says over his shoulder, and I stop. “It’s Sunday. No one is going to be available until tomorrow. Just let me help you.” I close my eyes, hating myself for what I’m about to do.

“You honestly know how to fix it?” I exhale, spinning around to face him, resting my hands on my hips.

He nods. “I mean, I won’t know exactly what the issue is until I see it, but yes, I can fix it.”

I groan. “Fine.”

The subtle upward quirk of his mouth tells me all I need to know: he knows that he’s won. “All right, well, give me your address, and I’ll run home and get my tools and can meet you there.”

I hesitate for just a moment before giving in and give Finn my address.

“Don’t be late.” I poke at his chest before walking away and leaving him in the aisle. I hope this isn’t a mistake.

Twenty minutes later, there is a knock on my front door. I stand there looking at the door handle, debating whether or not I should open it. He knows you’re home, Lauren. Your car is in the driveway. Just open it. The sooner I open the door, the quicker he leaves. I brush my hair out of my face and adjust my clothes before opening the door and having the breath knocked right out of me at what I find. Finn is leaning on the doorframe with a toolbox in hand. He changed his clothes from what he was wearing earlier in the store and is now in dark-wash jeans and a tight white T-shirt. Does Finn need to look good in everything he wears? Hell, he could probably make wearing a paper bag look sexy.

“You gonna let me in, or should I try to fix it from here,” he asks, snapping me from my perusal of him.

I roll my eyes and move to the side. “Come on, let’s get this over with.”

He follows me into the kitchen. I wave my hand to the sink. “Have at it.” I hop on the counter and let him work in his element.

He sets his toolbox down on the floor. First, he examines the sink, confirming the clog before opening the cabinet doors underneath. He crouches down and twists so that he is on his back. The bottom of his T-shirt rides up, exposing a small line of hair that leads from his belly button to underneath his jeans along with muscles I have never seen before.

He gets to work using the pipe wrench.

“What’s on your mind, Lawson? I know your mind is racing.” He continues to work while I watch his muscles flex.