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“But you're willing to waste time now, potentially?” Carter leaned back against the counter, watching her carefully and enjoying their banter.
“Don’t be so hard on yourself.” She chuckled and Carter couldn’t help but be amused at her wit as she continued speaking. “I think it has more to do with the fact that my life is falling into place, so now I actually have the ability to consider relationships.”
With that, she turned to the faucet and refilled her water glass. All of a sudden, the faucet popped off, sending a spray of water toward the ceiling and raining down on both of them. Carter leaped forward, went under the sink, and turned off the valves, bringing the flood of water to a halt.
He glanced up at her, seeing that she was completely soaked, her shirt clinging to her skin, and her chill obvious. She let out a laugh. “I guess that's what I deserve for saying that my life is falling into place. I jinxed myself.” As she said the words, a dark shadow haunted her eyes for a second, but quickly dissolved.
Carter couldn’t help but wonder what secret she was hiding, but knew it was none of his business.
“It’s Friday, so there's no way the landlord will get out here before Monday.” She lifts a shoulder before heading to a door and opening it to reveal a little pantry. Taking out a mop, she begins to sop up the water, stopping it from seeping into the carpet.
Carter took the mop from her, and she glanced up at him in surprise. “I think you're going to need towels.”
She scanned the mess, then nodded. “I think you're right.” As she walked away, Carter tried to keep his gaze on anything but her, wondering how he was going to manage to spend time with her and ignore the rising desire he felt for her.
Carter focused on mopping the water back on to the glossy white linoleum and away from the taupe carpet. A moment later, she hurried back into the room, a pile of towels in hand, and began to lay them out. The water soaked into the deep blue material, turning them almost black in moments as he pushed the water toward them.
“Life plans,” she said, dropping to her knees and using another towel to chase water trying to seep past the laid-out towels. “Do you plan on getting married? Having kids? Where do you see yourself in five years?”
“No plan to get married, but not closed off to the idea. Same with kids. In five years, I'll probably be building my company up even further. All the same questions right back at you.” He pushed a stray ribbon of water her direction and she soaked it all up.
“I'm not sure about marriage, not sure about kids. In five years, I hope to own my own home and maybe get a degree or be working toward one.” As they worked together to clean up the water, he watched her expression shift. “I grew up in the system, so I always told myself I'd never have kids. I didn't want to potentially die in a car accident or something stupid like that and wind up leaving another kid without a family to love them or care about them, but I honestly wonder if I'm missing out on something.”
“I feel the same way about marriage and kids. I'm older than you, and I sometimes worry that my window has passed, that I'm too old, that I wouldn't be a good husband, that I wouldn't be a good dad because I work a lot.” With the majority of the water soaked up by towels and the mop head, Carter leaned down and picked up each of the sopping towels and one by one rang them into the sink before putting them back down.
Saying his deepest, darkest fears aloud felt good.
“Well, if my opinion means anything, I don't think you're too old. And I think you'd be a good husband and a good dad because you’re a good man.”
Her words sent a warmth through his gut that spread throughout his body.
Chapter5
Kaitlyn
“Your opinion matters.”
Kaitlyn could hardly believe that a man who likely hired a chef to cook for his chef was standing beside her, shoulder to shoulder, helping her clean up the water that her broken faucet sprayed all over the kitchen.
In all honesty, she was surprised he was there at all, cleaning be damned. She’d expected her homely living space would put him off. To her surprise, he hadn't batted an eye when he walked inside and she wondered if he was good at hiding his reactions or simply didn’t care. She suspected the latter.
“Thank you.” She straightened her aching back, put her hands on her hips and cocked her head, watching him as he mopped up water, realizing that he didn't have to help her and likely wasn't used to doing this kind of work, yet here he was, in her home, mop in hand. "For everything," she said as he glanced at her, those warm eyes of his heating her skin up.
"It's my pleasure." His ability to get things done told her more about the man than she felt she'd learned on their date. He surprised her, but in a good way.
"You should have told me you were having trouble with the faucet," he said. "I would have paid to have the hardware replaced."
"I doubt my landlord would approve. I mean, it's been leaking for a while, but I didn't expect this." She glanced around her wet kitchen, spotting waterdrops on the ceiling slowly raining down around them. "And it's not your responsibility to replace my things. You paid for one date with me, that doesn't make you responsible to save me at every turn. And you don't have to stay." She felt bad keeping him here and making him work.
He wasn't her friend or boyfriend, after all.
He took a step toward her. “I’m not leaving until you’re clean,” he said, then emphatically added, “and dry.” With that, he took all of her in, then met her gaze with a smile.
With her cheeks burning and her body begging for his touch, she got back to cleaning up water with a dry corner of the towel.
"The floor is dry enough," he said, moving toward her as he placed the mop in the bucket and leaned the handle against the wall.
She stood up, watching him move as he reached out to touch her arm. His thumb caressed the sensitive skin on her inner arm. "You're cold," he whispered, his gaze ticking to hers as her heart threatened to beat out of her chest and her breath caught in her throat.
