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Neither would the hidden door, in spite of his shoulder bump, because it was held in place by the mechanism under the countertop. He pounded his fist against the wooden panel and yelled, “Hey! Anyone! Get us out of here!”
No response. Silence.
He reached for his phone, but Frankie already knew what he would find.
No bars. No service. No way.
They were well and truly stuck. Frankie broke the tense silence with a pulse from the percussion drill. She shifted and braced it again, drilling another anchor hole. If they were stuck, she might as well make the most of it. Her orgasms always left her with a strange buzz of energy, and she needed to burn some of it off or else she'd jump him again, lack of condoms be damned. She also wanted to catch her breath before they attempted the conversation that lingered unspoken between them.
The muscles in her arms shifted and tightened as she switched bits on the heavy drill and caught him staring. “What are you looking at?” she asked.
“A very sexy woman using power tools. She’s riveting.”
“Ha ha. I see what you did there.”
Jake came down the stairs back into the small space, seeming to take up more room than he had before.
“We’re stuck," he pouted.
“I know, genius. That’s why I got back to work. Either someone will hear the drill or I’ll at least get this project done.”
“Need a hand?”
She paused at that, looking at his hands, judging their likely ability. “Sure.”
He rolled up his sleeves and plucked the hammer out of her tool belt.
“Whoa, whoa, whoa. Easy there, big guy.” She took the hammer and dropped it back into the appropriate loop before handing him a spirit level. “Let’s start with something easy.”
“Easier than a hammer?”
“On a project that doesn’t require a hammer? Yes.”
“You know, I’ve watched hours of these projects. I can handle this.” He braced his hands on his hips, cocky and assured.
She chuckled. Of course he thought he could do this. She did her job and made it look easy. “You and every other viewer at home. That’s the appeal, right? But if everyone could do this, I’d be out of a job.”
“Okay, then walk me through the common mistakes people might make.” Jake whipped out his phone.
“You’re seriously going to film this with your phone?”
“Why not? As you said, you can handle your tools. I’ll handle mine.”
“But I look…” She ran a hand through her sex-tousled hair and tugged out her ponytail. On autopilot, she pulled her hair back again and licked her lips. "I'm not even wearing lipstick anymore."
“I won't apologize for that. You look gorgeous and competent. Just walk me through the basics of this project.”
Usually she was fine on camera, but this, informal and stripped down, had her nerves fluttering. She could feel the aftershocks of that orgasm still rippling under her skin. There was no way anyone watching this wouldn't know what she'd just been up to. And that wouldn't bother her if she and Jake were an established couple, but they weren't. They hadn't even had a conversation about it yet. But also, she was not ready to have that conversation yet, so she'd give this a go if it meant delaying the inevitable a little longer.
“Okay, fine.”
Jake raised the phone and framed his shot. “Go for it.”
“Before you start any installation project, it’s important to lay it all out. Read all of the directions through to the end, and make sure your tools are in good working order." Jake snorted, and Frankie struggled to keep a straight face but pushed on. "This may seem tedious, but I can't stress enough how important it is to be prepared."
She made eye contact with Jake, and he blushed. She smiled at her discovery, both that this perfectly composed man was capable of blushing and that it made him look softer, younger, more approachable.Note to self: make Jake blush.
"This will be a wine rack, and because we are in a small cellar in earthquake country, proper anchoring is important. I’m drilling holes directly into the concrete so that I can sink anchors and mount the rear braces directly to the wall.”
