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She jerked her chin at him. “Just do your thing, wise guy.”
“Nope, you’re doing it.” With his free hand, he motioned to the wrench she’d picked up and grasped like a weapon. “I’m holding the spout steady, so you unscrew the washer. Okay?”
She leaned in and did as he asked, hesitantly turning it clockwise. A curl fell in her eyes and she blew it away, her focus so intent she didn’t realize at first she was making the washer tighter, not looser.
He shifted behind her and placed his arm next hers to guide her hand in the opposite direction. His stomach tightened at the first contact of their skin. She smelled like summer—flowers, and sunshine, and yes, even chlorine—and he wanted to tilt his hips forward and bury his face in her hair. Not bound tightly as it was now, but loosened around her shoulders so he could use it for leverage when he—
“Oops, sorry. I was doing it wrong. Like—” She glanced over her shoulder and broke off, her question ending in a hot exhale. Her eyes narrowed as he closed his fingers over hers on the wrench. “Like this?” she asked, her voice noticeably lower. Huskier.
“Just like that. Slow and easy.” He leaned in to adjust her grip and she stiffened, her curvaceous body going rigid between him and the sink.
That wasn’t all that was rigid right now. Not even close.
“How long do I do this?” she asked breathlessly, arching just enough to bring her bottom hard against his erection.
He barely muffled an oath and leaned in closer, just enough that she made a noise in her throat he almost thought he’d imagined. Then she did it again. A sigh. A gasp. Some mixture of the two. He shut his eyes and gritted out, “Until I say stop.”
“But I think—” She broke off and shifted restlessly against him. Bringing them flush together and wiping away the last of his good intentions.
When he flexed his hips, her hand spasmed and she whimpered as the loosened piece slipped off and fell into the bowl. He let go of the spout and stepped around her, thankfully breaking the contact of their bodies, then snatched up the part.
Damn, that had been close. Too close.
Not nearly close enough.
He moved to her side, breathing hard. Trying to remember he had ethics, somewhere down deep beneath the need churning in his gut. He cast a sideways glance at her, and they tipped toward each other like bowling pins pulled by magnets. Her lips were so close, a breath away. If he leaned in, if he just could taste her once—
At the last second, he jerked back. Christ. Her pupils were dilated, her lips parted. She’d been ready for that kiss. Hell, she’d wanted it too.
In another second, he would’ve been in the middle of the best mistake of his life.
“Now what?” she whispered.
Dumbly, he glanced down at the part he held. What was its
purpose again? Sink. Water flowing. Release.
Shit.
“Washer looks good,” he said, as he rushed to put everything to rights before his shaking fingers gave him away. “Turns out I just need a part from the hardware store. Everything else is fine. I’d be happy to go get it and take care of this for you.”
Operative word being “go.” He’d just come way too close to crossing the line. As much as he wanted to taste her, he couldn’t. Not until she knew he wasn’t just the plumber. Not when she’d knocked him so far off his game he couldn’t see straight and she didn’t even know his name.
“The store?” she echoed, shutting her eyes as if she needed a moment. He understood the feeling. She took a deep breath then opened her eyes. Their sheer power nailed him square in the chest. “What store would you get the part from?”
He fought to get his brain back in gear as he rubbed his scruffy chin. “Uh, Haven’s only hardware store. Val—”
She set aside the wrench and crossed her arms over her chest, a move she repeated with alarming frequency. It was probably a minor miracle she didn’t have a sign across her cleavage declaring No Trespassing.
Clearly, the moment they’d shared over the sink was already ancient history.
“Don’t say it.” She dropped back down on the toilet, her shoulders slumping. “You are not to speak that name within these walls.”
Now this was interesting. He cocked his head, waiting for her to explain herself. Had she gotten bad service at his parents’ store or something? Maybe gotten a batch of bad paint? Even so, why would that make her face redden and her eyes burn? “You going to elaborate?”
“Nothing to say.” Her crossed arms came up again. Naturally. “I’m just not fond of that store. At all. In fact, I think it sucks mule testicles.”
He coughed and thumped his fist on his chest to get the oxygen moving again. “Haven’t heard that expression before.”
