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Riley jerks back with a muttered curse, but it’s too late. The front of his crisp white shirt is plastered to his chest. Water streams down his face and clings to his dark hair.
Across from him, another man is bent over laughing so hard he has one hand braced against the countertop to keep himself upright. I notice his other arm is in a sling.
“The YouTube DIY video you watched told you to shut the valve off first,” he wheezes between laughs.
“I did shut the valve off.”
“But did you shut off the right one?”
Riley’s glare could strip paint. “How many valves are there?”
For a second, I stand still, taking it all in. Trying to reconcile the image before me with the one I’d been expecting.
I’d pictured a con artist. Maybe a burglar. Or, at worst, an axe murderer.
Not ... this.
“Fucked if I know,” the other guy says. “I kind of tuned out when the bloke started talking about isolation valves.”
Riley shoots him a look over his shoulder as he reaches under the sink and tries to stop the water with his hands, but all he manages to do is spray himself in the face again. “You’re supposed to be helping,” he growls.
“I’m here for moral support only.”
“You’re here because that psycho you’re marrying told you not to come back to the house … your house, I might add, until she calms down. Is that woman ever fucking calm?”
The other guy casually lifts one shoulder. “She has her moments.”
Riley scoffs, and I have to roll my lips to hide my grin.
“Why are you in my house?” I snap before turning my attention to the other guy. “And who the hell are you?”
His laughter dies instantly as he looks between us, a growing smirk spreading across his face like he’s enjoying this far too much.
“Well,” he says, taking a step towards me, “this is awkward. You must be Bennett’s girl. I’m Nolan, the better-looking brother.”
They’re brothers?
He extends his good arm, offering me his hand, but I just stare at it for a moment before flicking my eyes back to his face. “Who’s Bennett?” I ask.
He pauses as a shit-eating grin curves his lips. “My bad,” he says. “I mean Riley.”
“Hello,” Riley, also known as Bennett, calls out. “I’m fucking drowning over here.”
Nolan chuckles at his brother’s outburst. “Do you know where the main water meter is, darlin’?”
“Out the front, in the garden next to the letterbox.”
He nods once and moves past me. “You might want to get some towels.”
I watch him disappear through the front door before I glance back at Riley … I mean Bennett. He’s still crouched beneath the sink, soaked through and looking like the world’s most expensive plumber who has absolutely no idea what he’s doing.
Seconds later, the water finally stops. The sudden silence is almost jarring after the chaos of what I’ve walked into.
Bennett slowly straightens, pushing himself up from the floor. He runs a hand through his wet hair, sending a few more droplets flying, then looks at me. He appears pissed and, if I’m being honest, slightly embarrassed.
Good.
Because if this is the same man who confidently walked into my grandparents’ house pretending to be a plumber, I think he deserves to suffer through at least a little humiliation.
