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“I can fix it for you.” He stands and joins me at looking inside.
“You could fix this?” Try as I might there’s no hiding the disbelief tainting my words. “Seriously?”
“Ah, sweetie, there’s so much you don’t know about my handy husband.” Simon appears by Pete’s side as he stands and plants a kiss on his cheek.
Pete shakes his head indulgently. “I was an electrician in the family business before…” He scratches the corner of his mouth.
“Before daddy dearest found out he was gay and kicked him out on his ass.”
My mouth snaps shut. Wow. Oh wow. I look between them. “Pete, I’m… I had no idea.”
“Long time ago. The point is, I’m happy to help out where I can. When the hotel was refurbished last year, we took everything from the original kitchen to a place inland. I think they hold monthly auctions. We could check it out. I’d be happy to fix up anything electric that needs repaired. That goes for wiring too. I’m a bit rusty, but I’m sure I can still get it done.”
I shake my head, but the hope from before is bubbling over even more. This could actually be the answer.
TWENTY-ONE
Kenzi
So. The upcycling rabbit hole is a deep one. Way deep. I fell in the second I got home from the yard sale. The things you can do with a glue gun and a little imagination. Twisting my hair up and sticking it with my pen, I tuck my foot under my bum on the sofa and lean in closer to my laptop screen. Never mind taking away from the whole whimsical dining under the stars, doing things this way could actually add to it. Like really,reallyadd to it. I scan my old budget. The amount I’d planned to spend on tables and chairs alone could be halved…morethan halved. Looking further afield for cutlery and hunting down secondhand kitchen appliances could drop the cost even more. I pick up my hand-painted tile catalogue and allow myself one tiny pout over my bathrooms. They’ll be just as nice with generic white tiles. My sigh is cut off by my cell pinging.
Mylo: You in?
I glance between my Pinterest boards and my cell. Shit. I didn’t call him. He kissed me this morning, and I didn’t call. My thumbs fly over the screen.
Yup come over. Delete.
Come on over!!! Delete!!!
I’m in.I wince. Bite my lip and press send before I can delete again. I’m overthinking this. It’s just Mylo.
He kissed me. He wants to talk.
Ahhhh, man. I glance down at my crumpled T-shirt, my heart thumping in my throat. I should be better dressed for this. I should at least have a bra and pants on for this. I brush my hands uselessly over the creases in my shirt. Pat my hair. I should change. There’s a knock at the door.
No. I’m being stupid. It’s Mylo. He doesn’t care. I head to the door and pull it open before I change my mind.
My head tips back. Hair tied up, a faded Marine corps T-shirt and sweat shorts with a six-pack of beer in his hand. It could be any other night. He shows up. We hang out. It’s not weird. Okay. It’s always weird, we don’t hang out. Not really. We sleep. Whatever. This shouldn’t make it weirder—except it does. It really does. We phone sexed. He kissed me and didn’t run for the hills. Hewantsto talk.
Tension so thick I’m surprised it’s not visible, hangs in the air between us.
I tuck my hair behind my ears. “Mylo.”
His brow quirks, his gaze moving over me in that deliberate way of his that used to drive me crazy, but now just tingles over every single inch of my skin. “Kenzi.”
He kissed me. And he’s here. “Come in.”
The lines around his eyes deepen with his grin when I stand to the side to let him by. He thunks the six pack on the little table by the door. But he doesn’t come in. At least not all the way in. One minute I’m blinking up at him, the next I’m backed up against the door, his massive body curved over mine.
“I’ve been… I should have…” My words fizzle, all coherent thoughts scattering. He smells good. Like wrapping myself in freshly laundered sheets with an undertone of clean man good. “You wanted to talk?” I finally manage over the whooshing in my ears.
“I did.” His gaze flits to my mouth.
My breath releases. My eyes widen. “Then we should…” My voice isn’t mine, it’s all breathy and girly. “We should probably…” My chin lifts.
His dips. “I don’t want to be your friend.”
I nod. Lick my lips. “You were a shitty friend anyway.”
