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“Oh, hey,” I say, trying not to act like I didn’t notice him standing there until a second ago.
“Hi,” Dylan says. He looks at me but doesn’t meet my eyes. Instead, he seems to be focused just over my shoulder on something behind me. He moves both hands up to his ears and pulls out what I thought were earbuds at first, but I actually think they might be those foam earplugs, not AirPods. That strikes me as a little weird, but hey, whatever gets you through the day, I guess.
“Your sister did an amazing job,” I say, and this time, his smile seems more genuine, his eyes meeting mine for a brief second before flitting away again.
“Yeah, she’s—she’s very strong.”
I suddenly remember something about this guy from when we first met months ago. “Hey,” I bark out, and he startles at my sudden outburst, cringing almost imperceptibly before returning his expression to a pleasant, neutral smile.Hmm.A little jittery, I guess.
“I just remembered, you’re the one who sent the ER a big thank-you basket after your brother was here, right?”
A flush makes its way up Dylan’s neck as he fiddles with the little foam earplugs he’s still holding.
“Oh, that was from the whole family,” he says.
I give him a cheeky grin. “Was it though? Because, if I remember correctly, Grace told me it was you who organized the whole thing.” That pink blush has now crept its way onto Dylan’s cheeks, and he somehow manages to look both sweet as sugar and like sex on a stick at the same time.
“Oh, uh. I’m, uh…” he stammers.
I bark out a laugh, but the thought that I’m making him uncomfortable doesn’t feel good. “I’m just teasing you,” I say gently. I want to reach out and touch his arm, but something tells me that’s not a great idea. “I actually don’t know who sent the basket, but as I recall, it was lovely. So, thank you to all of you. We always appreciate that stuff in the ER.”
There’s something about Dylan Campbell I can’t put my finger on. He’s gorgeous, which explains why my cock is at half-mast, resulting in me having to shift around to make sure my jacket covers it since my loose scrubs hide nothing. But it’s not just that he’s hot AF; there’s an innocence about him. It’s like he’s walking around in the world without the protective armor most of us wear. It’s refreshing, making me want to find out more about him. That fact alone makes me feel weird and unsettled. I haven’t been curious about anyone in that way for years, and it feels like I’ve been knocked off-center.
His gaze lands on mine for a moment, and he smiles shyly. God, the man is easy on the eyes.
I take another drag off my nearly finished smoke when my phone buzzes with a text. I must scowl when I look at it because Dylan’s eyebrows shoot up.
“Is everything okay?” he asks.
I let out a big sigh. “Pfft. Yeah. I mean, no, but it’s nothing life-threatening. It’s just a text from the electrician working on my house. He keeps uncovering problems, so of course, the bill keeps going up and up.” I shake my head.
“Who’s the electrician?” he asks.
I raise my eyebrows but answer his question. “I think the company is called Coulson Electrics?The guy I’m dealing with is named Joe.”
Something dark flickers across Dylan’s face before it’s replaced with a polite smile. “I know of them,” he says. “I’m in home renovations, so I know a lot of the local companies.”
“Oh, yeah? You’re in home renovations?”
He nods. “I own a company with my brother, Mason. We’re called Hot Dam Homes.”
I chuckle as he points to the cute logo on his shirt that features a beaver, the same one that adorns the door of his pickup.
“Great name,” I say, and he grins. “I think I called you guys when I first started my renovation, but you were fully booked. To be honest, I think you’re out of my budget too. You work on a lot of luxury properties, right?”
Dylan nods. “We do. We’ve been able to break into the high-end market in the last year or so. But I like working with people and homes of all sizes.”
The words coming out of his mouth sound like marketing jargon, and maybe they are, but when I look at his face, I can see he means what he’s saying. “If you want, I can come have a look at what’s going on with your house. If it’s something we can’t handle, I can recommend someone good,” he continues.
I quirk an eyebrow and shoot him a skeptical look. “Really? That would be great, but does this company I’m with now have a bad reputation?”
Another pink flush creeps up Dylan’s neck onto his cheeks, and I wonder what other things I could do to him that would bring out that color. “Well, I can’t… I’ve just heard some things,” he says. “But if you don’t want me to take a look, that’s fine. It was just a thought.”
I laugh again. Dylan Campbell isnota bullshitter, that much is clear. Every word that comes out of the man’s mouth is one he means. “Actually, if you really don’t mind, it would be super helpful to get another opinion, especially from someone who doesn’t have skin in the game,” I say. “I keep getting this gut feeling that these guys may be trying to screw me over, but then I figure I’m just being paranoid. I have no experience with electrical work, so I have no clue. If you’re sure you don’t mind dropping by, it would be great to get your input. My house is all the way over in Queen Anne though. Do you guys work over that way?”
Queen Anne is one of Seattle’s older neighborhoods, and I fell in love with the area when I first moved here. It’s full of older, craftsman-style character homes, and the neighborhood runs from the top of a hill that boasts some of the most stunning views around to the edge of the downtown core, where there’s a performance hall, a new hockey and basketball arena, and Seattle’s iconic Space Needle.
A couple of years ago, I was inspired to buy one of those craftsman homes I love and fix it up myself. The only reason I could afford it was because it was in dire need of repair, but I was nothing if not optimistic at the time. I knew I’d have to hire out the more complicated things, electrical being one, but I wasn’t in a hurry, and the thought of actually building something with my own hands still gives me a little thrill. What I didn’t realize, not having any experience with home ownership before this little project, was that your mortgage payment is truly only the start of your expenses when you buy a house. My monthly expenses ended up being a whole lot higher than I’d expected. That in itself wouldn’t be a huge deal as I make decent money. The issues began when I started renovation work. The things I tried to do myself werenotas simple and straightforward as I thought. (I blame HGTV for this—I mean, all those house flippers with the women strutting around in stiletto shoes make this shit look like you can do it with one hand tied behind your back. Not. True.) Then, the stuff I contracted out cost way more than the estimates, resulting in the whole project turning into a major source of stress instead of a fun side project.
