“Not if you don’t care that my kids’ suitcases look like bombs went off.”
She just laughed. “Not a bit. Thank you for letting me know. Have a wonderful time in Park City.”
When he left, MJ exhaled. Of course this happened while Pedro was on vacation. Should she call Red? Her dad knew his way around a plumbing problem, but he’d looked so tired when he stopped in this morning, she didn’t want to bother him.
First, she’d assess how bad it was, she decided, heading to the mudroom for her toolbox.
In the coat closet, she reached for the red metal case that had gotten her through a few such emergencies. The thing weighed a ton and she couldn’t carry it upstairs, but she dragged it out, flipped it open, and crouched down to get the tools she might need without hauling the monster up the stairs.
The back door clicked and creaked and she looked up, a wrench in one hand, a screwdriver in the other.
“Looks like you’re about to do battle.” Matt stepped inside, mostly in silhouette with the waning light behind him. He wasn’t in his usual lodge-casual flannel but a trim, olive-green sweater over a collared shirt and dark slacks.
“Just part of the glamour of lodge ownership,” she said, pushing to a stand, grateful for the hand he offered to help her up. “A leaky toilet waits for no woman.”
He chuckled, a warm, rolling sound that she’d gotten quite used to hearing.
“Are you on your own today? No Jack? Pedro? Red?”
“Jack is out on that snowmobile you gave us.” She slipped into a huge smile. “Unless I dreamed that.”
“Nope. Real deal.”
She just shook her head, the very idea of it still leaving her speechless. “Pedro and Nina have the week off, Red’s at home, and I…” She wiggled the wrench. “Am tackling toilets.”
With a chuckle, he reached over, flipped the toolbox closed and snapped the latches. In one smooth move, he scooped it up by the handle.
“Which room?”
She drew back. “Oh, I couldn’t let you?—”
“You think you can beat that toilet with kindness and a good attitude? If so, there’s no one better than you. If not, I’m your man.”
Her man? Her heart did something no sixty-two-year-old heart ought to do, but surely that was just because he was offering to help. Especially since he was staying in their most expensive cabin and wearing…Ralph Lauren.
“Thank you, Matt, but that optimism says I can find the problem. You’re dressed for a nice dinner, not plumbing.”
He glanced down. “Too much? I never know. Anyway, how do plumbers dress?”
“In overalls. Dirty T-shirts. Maybe a baseball cap over a bald head.”
He looked a little wistful, as if he’d prefer overalls to Lauren. “Guess you’ve been around the wrong plumbers.” Lifting the toolbox like it weighed nothing, he headed toward the door. “Show me the way, Mary Jane.” At her surprised expression, he shrugged. “I heard Cindy call you that the other day. I like it. Really suits you, you know?”
Once again, her chest felt…unusual. But she had to remember all that she and Cindy and Jack had talked about last night. Yes, Cindy did sometimes playfully call her by her given name. Or had he…been researching how to con a widow?
“Which room?” he asked again.
“I’m sorry, Matt. I simply couldn’t let you?—”
He leaned an inch closer. “Would you feel better if I scared up a pair of work pants and boots? I am a plumber, MJ.Licensed, certified, and capable of fixing anything involving a toilet, pipe, or drain.”
Her jaw dropped. “You are?”
“Yeah, and based on your image of the whole profession, I take it as a compliment that you’re surprised. I’m retired, but plumbing isn’t fast-moving technology, unless you have one of those ten-thousand-dollar Japanese toilets that run on an app. Has anything so stupid ever been invented?”
She laughed, remembering that before Cindy had planted seeds of doubt, she’d thoroughly enjoyed this man’s unique sense of humor.
“Does this look like a place that would have a ten-thousand-dollar toilet?” she countered.
