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“Chase, please, I need help.”
I can’t remember the last time I broke every traffic law—okay, maybe it was the other night, but still. Shoving my truck into park, I throw myself out and race toward the guesthouse. The door opens and a frazzled Bridget fills the open space. Her cheeks are flushed. Her hair is a mess and she’s wearing glasses. Damn, she is incredibly gorgeous.
“Oh my god, I need you!”
Okay, I wasn’t expecting this kind of approach.
“I can’t get the faucet to stop spraying!” Grabbing my shirt, she pulls me inside, stopping in front of the geyser shooting out of her sink. I rush over and fiddle with the knob, soaking my shirt.
“Shit.” I kneel in a puddle of water and open the cabinet under the sink. Leaning in, I reach for the valve and twist it to the right, shutting off the water line.
“Oh my god, thank you. I was trying to wash my coffee mugs and it just started shooting water at me. I couldn’t get it to stop.” I sit up as she inspects the flooded room. “Oh God, I’m so fired.”
I wouldn’t lose sleep if she was. I don’t like the way her boss looks at her, and I definitely don’t like the way he looks at me with eyes that scream with possessiveness. He has another thing coming.
“Nah, it’s fine. Gives the place character. Not that he couldn’t afford an indoor pool.”
“How am I going to fix this? The rugs are ruined. The furniture—”
“He’s rich. He can fix it. Why are you staying in a place that has faulty equipment?” Standing up, I wring out my shirt. “Good thing you called me, being your boyfriend and all.” I wink, easing some of her worry.
“Fake boyfriend. I don’t do those.”
“Good. I don’t do girlfriends. This is working out just fine.”
She eyes me, curious. “Good. We’re both on the same page then. This isn’t a relationship or anything. Just—”
“Wingman status. Besties who kiss. Water drowning savior.”
Her laugh is so damn cute.
“I’m not sure I would have drowned, but thank you for saving me.”
I bow. “You’re welcome. I’ll take a lunch date as my prize.”
“Lunch date?”
“That’s correct. Saving you worked up an appetite. It’s the least you can do, girlfriend.”
Her brow raises, and I fight not to grab her and kiss the hell out of her. “What do you say? The diner down the road? I’m in the mood for something…meaty.”
She laughs, adjusting her messy bun. “Look around you. I can’t just leave. I have a pool in my kitchen.”
“No problem. I have a guy who owes me a favor. I’ll have him come over and drain the water and clean up. Now, how about that lunch?”
“Fine. But you’re soaking wet.”
“I have a change of clothes in my truck.” I lift my drenched shirt over my head, loving the hitch in her breath. “Did you want me to stand here a little bit longer, or are you done ogling?”
I love messing with her.
“Yeah, uh…no. Totally done. I can burn my eyes out now. You should probably keep your shirt on. Nothing to see there.” This time, it’s me who’s laughing. I twist up my shirt and whack her in her tight little ass as I walk by and open the door—“Whoa.” I stop, before almost slamming into—
“Am I interrupting something?” Her douchebag boss looks over my shoulder, eyeing my girl, then back at me. His gaze blazes with disapproval. I open my mouth to tell him to fuck off, but Bridget beats me to it.
“Oh my god, no. It’s not what you think. The faucet. It—well, it just started shooting water, so I called him to help me fix it. I didn’t want to bother you. I’m so sorry. I was going to call someone and get this cleaned up—”
“Nonsense.” He steps past me. “I’ll take care of it. Are you all right?”
If he puts his hands on her, I’m going to snap each finger in half. I open my mouth to tell him off, but Bridget interrupts again.
“Yes, fine. Just embarrassed. I’ll pay you for the damages.”
“Please, this isn’t your fault. I should have had all the plumbing inspected beforehand. Let me make it up to you. You can stay in the main house until I get this—”
“She’s staying with me.” There. Finally got a word in. And what did I just say?
Douchebag and Bridget gawk at me.
“Yeah, I wouldn’t want my girlfriend to be put out either. Thanks for the offer, but she’s gonna stay with me.”
“That’s not necessary. I have a perfectly suited guest room.”
Is this asshole for real? “Yeah, and I—”
“Mr. Brooks, I appreciate your offer, but I don’t want to be in your hair. The weekend is coming up. I wouldn’t want to impose.” Douchebag opens his mouth, but Bridget quickly speaks up. “Again, I’m so sorry for the mess. You can take my first paycheck or…however many it takes to pay for it.”
