Page 17 of Miss Fix-It


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“Yet the sand will still fall quicker than when I argue with my kids about the benefit of drinking water over apple juice.”

Oh. He just Pottered me.

Sigh.

“Well played,” I replied. Then, I sighed. “That’s really a fight you have?”

“You’re not around kids much, are you?” He smirked. “It’s a daily conversation. I could record my responses and shower while the argument happens at this point.”

“See—that’s why I’m not around kids much.” I put down my fork and wiped my mouth with a napkin from the center of the table. “Thank you for bringing back lunch.”

He held up his hands. “Thank Marcie. I don’t think I had a say in the matter.”

“You’ll find you generally don’t where she’s concerned. Don’t worry. You’ll get used to it.” I stood and picked up my plate. “I need to get back to work now.”

“Let me take it.” His chair scraped along the floor when he got up. “Here.” He took the plate from me and set it next to the sink. “By the way, Kali?”

“Yeah?” I paused, one foot in front of the other.

“You’ve got a little…” He motioned to his cheek. “Sauce. On paint. Right here.”

Frowning, I rubbed at my cheek.

“No. Shit. The other cheek.” He tapped his left one.

I rubbed there, too, but he shook his head, clearly fighting a smile if the twitching of his lips was anything to go by.

“No, hold on.” He swiped a napkin and moved toward me. My breath hitched when he stopped right in front of me, just inches from me. His steady hand held the napkin, and my eyes followed its path as it came closer and closer to my cheek.

Gently, he wiped over my cheek, right by my ear. His gaze glanced toward mine for a second. One that was somehow long enough to make my heart stutter.

“Well,” he said, tilting his head to get a better look, “I got the sauce. I think the paint is dry.”

“How did that even happen? I’m right-handed,” I muttered, touching my fingers to where the napkin had just been.

Lips curved, he stepped back, crumpling the paper towel in his hand. “That’s what I’d like to know.”

“Let me know if you ever find out.” I moved away from him, closer to the door. “I’ll be painting. Maybe a bit of drilling to get rid of some stuff in Eli’s wall. Let me know if I disturb you.”

He waved his hand, setting his plate on the counter. “If you disturb me, I’ll go out. I can work anywhere—you kinda need to be here.”

Over his shoulder, he shot me a stomach-flipping smile that reached his eyes. One that made his eyes flash with laughter. One that put itself firmly in my “Must Resist” book.

“Good point.”

He turned.

Our eyes met.

He winked.

Me?

I basically ran up the stairs.

Chapter Seven

“How’s it going?” Mom put a box of chocolate cookies in her cart. It looked out of place among all the green, leafy veg that she currently had in there.

Yes, I was grocery shopping with my stepmother. I was guilted into it by my father who insisted I put chips in my cart then put them in her car. How he thought I’d do that, I didn’t know.

“That’s not on your diet,” I pointed out.

She fluffed her hair. “What your father doesn’t know and all that.”

I grabbed a bag of his favorite chips. “You know these are going in your trunk, don’t you?”

“And I shall pretend not to know when he unpacks the bags,” she replied smoothly. “That’s marriage, honey. We pretend we don’t know that the other is cheating on our agreed upon diet.”

I snorted. “I hope wedding vows are rewritten to include that.”

“You and women everywhere. Now, tell me how this new job is going. I believe I saw him in the store yesterday. He’s very handsome, isn’t he?”

“I didn’t notice,” I lied, examining the nutritional values of a bag of Cheetos.

At least, I pretended to read it.

Mom snatched the bag out of my hand. “Kali Hancock, don’t you lie to me.”

“I’m not.”

“Your ears are redder than a boiling lobster. He’s cute, huh?”

“He’s a little young for you.” I took back the Cheetos and dumped them in my cart.

“We all have a little cougar in us.” She chuckled, grabbing a bag for herself.

Wow. Talk about cheating on the diet.

“One, ew.” I waggled my finger at her. “Two, yes, okay, fine. He’s handsome. Are you happy now?”

“What’s he doing in Rock Bay?”

“Ah, well, that I think I can answer.” I paused. “I kinda put my foot in it the first time we met.”

She mock-gasped. “And you didn’t tell us at dinner last week?”

“Of course not. You were too busy dropping hints at Dad about your anniversary.”

“Thanks for the evening, by the way.”

“You’re welcome. At least he paid.”

She laughed. “Always a bonus. Now, back to Brantley.”

I wasn’t even going to ask how she knew his name. I was surprised she didn’t know why he was here. “We were talking after I’d seen the rooms and I asked how he ended up in Rock Bay. He doesn’t have family here, and he doesn’t have a ring, so naturally…”

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