“Are you sure?”
“Yes. Is there a toolbox there?”
“Yeah.”
“I’m on my way.”
***
Fifteen minutes later, I’m desperate because the water isn’t leaking anymore—it’s coming in a heavy stream. I place a bucket underneath the pipe, but unable to just stare at the water and do nothing, I sit on my haunches and inspect the pipe closer, hoping the water won’t come anywhere near my dress. I swear loudly.
“Sailors have nothing on you, Bennett.”
I bang my head against the sink as I flinch.
“Jesus,” I exclaim, pulling back and putting my hands on the painful spot above my eye. Nate is just a few steps behind me. “Announce yourself next time.”
“I did.”
“Try knocking at the door first, then saying something like ‘Hot plumber here. At your service, ma’am.’”
“I love how you don’t lose your sense of humor even when you nearly poke your eye out.”
Chuckling, he motions me to step aside. He glances at the toolbox, then lowers himself to his haunches like I did minutes before. While he busies himself under the sink, I call the restaurant where we’re going for our date, informing them we’ll be late. Afterward, I hop on a counter, ogling Nate’s ass. Damn, from this position his backside looks even more perfect than usual. A naughty voice at the back of my mind tells me there are plenty more pipes I could accidentally break around the kitchen.
“Are you ever gonna offer to help?”
“I’d rather stay here and enjoy the view,” I tell him.
A few short minutes later, Nate pulls back, rising to his feet. He turns the sink on, which nearly gives me a panic attack, but what do you know? Not one drop leaks from the pipe.
“All done.”
Hopping off the counter, I check his work for myself, even though it’s not necessary.
“Thank you, Nate.”
“At your service, ma’am,” he says, repeating my earlier words.
“Can I give you a tip? Take your shirt off next time.”
He pulls his head back. Up close, I can see a thin sheet of sweat dotting his upper lip. I barely hold back the impulse of lifting on my toes and licking him.
“To fix a pipe?”
I shrug one shoulder, offering a grin. “They do that sometimes in movies.”
“What kind of movies have you been watching, Alice?”
“Naughty ones.”
I haven’t been watching any movies other the ones in my head, but seeing his look of shock was totally worth stretching the truth a tad.
“Since we’re exchanging information, I was half hoping you’d be waiting here for me wearing just an apron.”
Damn, damn, damn. The air between us instantly charges, firing up my synapses. As if sensing it too, Nate cradles my face with both hands. I cuff his wrists with my hands, loving the feel of his pulse under the pads of my fingers. It races frantically. As he kisses my forehead, the smell of him overpowers everything else. This feels so impossibly good; I wish we could stay like this the entire evening. But the strong smell of soap and man serves as an aphrodisiac, clouding my brain and awaking all my senses. My body responds to his proximity by humming incessantly, pure energy coursing through me, jolting every cell to life. I clamor for him, needing him to touch more than my face. I initially went to the spa for a mani-pedi, but then thought I’d better get a Brazilian wax too. I’m oversensitive after waxing. When Nate kisses the spot above my eye where I hit myself earlier, my center becomes slick. With a low sigh, I press my thighs together. Gathering my wits, I step to the side, needing to gain some distance.
“You’re handy to have around,” I say once I’m out of his grasp. “How would you know how to fix a pipe?”