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“Of course,” he said with a chuckle. “The guy who owns the hardware store recruited a bunch of men to help Zane whip the thing into shape, and we made some decent progress.”
“Allen is always at the forefront of gathering volunteers for worthwhile projects.”
“Maybe we should give him a heads up and tell him we’ll need an army.” He took her hand and stepped over a puddle. “Because it looks like we’ve got a hell of a lot of books that need to be relocated.”
Lucy winced. “Really? Do you think it’s that bad?”
He looked around. “Afraid so.”
“I guess that means the water won’t magically disappear?”
“Not unless God owes you some kind of favor.”
She let out a snort. “Most days, I’m just hoping to avoid being struck down by lightning.”
Linc looked down. “I knew there was a lot to like about you.”
“I didn’t know heroes had a thing for rabble-rousers.” Giving him a hip bump, she laughed. “If you spend time in my company, you could risk losing your cape.”
“Sweetheart, it’s you that should be worried.” Running his thumb over her jaw, he shook his head. “Because I’m very nearly the Devil’s best friend and have yet to meet a line not worth crossing.”
Lucy let out a shaky breath and silently admitted resisting the man for much longer simply wasn’t possible. “I keep telling myself I’ve got no use for an inked-up anti-prince, but….”
“I’m too damn irresistible?” he asked hopefully.
“Hardly.” She gave him a slow once over and knew there was no need to provide the man with the keys to the castle quite yet. Feeling water seep into her sandal, she looked down. “It’s getting worse, isn’t it?”
“Sure is.” He led her away from the growing puddle and slid a wrench out of his belt. “I’m going to turn off the water to the building and then see if I can figure out which pipe is responsible.”
She headed for the back door, relieved she had something to focus on other than the troublesome attraction. “Follow me.”
“Always,” Linc said quietly.
Which is exactly what she was afraid of since pretending that she didn’t want some of the very same things he did wouldn’t last for much longer.
Linc mounted the stairs that led to Lucy’s apartment above the store and wasn’t looking forward to the bitter pill he had to deliver. It turns out the sloping floor was more than just an eyesore and was the home to the mother of all slab leaks.
The door leading to Lucy’s abode stood open, and he walked through, knowing immediately that her flair for style wasn’t confined to her wardrobe. The small space she called home was colorful, lush, and incredibly inviting. One wall was painted taxi-cab yellow, and the others featured bookshelves packed to the limit. A couch that looked like it could swallow you whole sat in the middle of the small room, with matching chairs near the window.
Lucy walked out of a small galley kitchen. “Would you like a beer or a bourbon?”
“I’ll take a bourbon.”
Lucy winced. “Is the prognosis that bad?”
“Why don’t we have a drink before we discuss the particulars.”
“I’ll pour us a double.”
“Not a bad idea,” he muttered, watching Lucy return to the kitchen. Turning in a slow circle, he noticed a collection of framed photos and moved closer to study them. He picked up one that included Lucy, Olivia, and a third woman, who he assumed was the baby sister.
“That’s Callie,” Lucy called out as she returned to the room. “She’s our tech genius and undercover operator.”
Linc set down the photo and accepted the glass Lucy handed him. “Every family needs one.”
“If not two,” she said, clinking their glasses together. “And thank you, Linc, for riding to my rescue.”
“Any time.” He watched Lucy take a healthy gulp and decided to follow her lead. “I didn’t see my tool belt replacing my fifty-cal machine gun when I saved the queen, but I guess that’s retirement for you.”
