“So how do I get ahold of who’s in charge?”
“In charge of what?” I couldn’t remember what we’d been talking about. I was too focused on trying to recall which rings and valves I’d already turned and in which direction.
“Wyatt Investigations.”
I huffed out a sigh. “Wyatt Investigations doesn’t exist. It was a ruse to scare my ex into returning the money he stole from me.” Hoping I now had the water turned off, I started unscrewing one of the rings around the pipe. “You need a private investigator?”
That added a hint of mystery to his already intriguing persona.
“No, I’m looking for a job.”
So much for the mystery.
“You want to work for a private eye?” Somehow that didn’t strike me as a typical job for a member of the Hickory Hill Country Club.
“I have a background in security.”
I had trouble picturing a rich guy like him guarding a bank or working as a bouncer at a nightclub.
“Well, unless you’re looking for an imaginary job, I’m afraid I can’t help you.”
I gave the ring a good twist.
A jet of water erupted from the pipe, hitting me right in the face.
I let out a garbled yell as I flailed and sputtered, trying to free myself from the onslaught of water. I was vaguely aware of Wyatt diving into the fray. He reached into the cupboard, right through the stream of water, and…did something. Whatever he did, the jet of water mercifully cut off, leaving me gasping and blinking rapidly.
I managed to shimmy a few inches out from under the sink. One of Wyatt’s hands closed around mine, and he pulled me tomy feet before I even knew what was happening. I came to a stop right up against his chest, one hand pressed to his pecs.
It took a good three seconds for my shock to wear off. Then I realized I was molded against his deliciously solid body. Beneath my palm, his soaked shirt was plastered to his chest, revealing the dips and planes of his sculpted muscles. His body heat seeped into my chilled skin, beckoning me to move even closer. I tipped my head up to find his eyes smoldering like hot coals, ready to burst into flame.
He inclined his head toward mine, bringing his mouth tantalizingly close to my ear.
My breath hitched and my fingers dug into the waterlogged fabric of his shirt.
“Pretty sure you didn’t turn off the water,” he whispered.
I pushed off from his chest, taking a step back that was as abrupt as my return to reality.
“Imeantto, but you distracted me.” I crossed my arms over my chest, suddenly realizing that my own T-shirt was clinging to me in a very revealing fashion. I was wearing a bra, but still. My shirt was white, and Wyatt-with-no-last-name didn’t need to be getting an eyeful of my assets.
“You find me distracting?” The light in his eyes danced with humor.
“Only when you talk too much,” I grumbled.
He laughed, and I feared he saw right through my lie.
I wasn’t sure why he got my hackles up, but maybe it was because he affected me more than any other man I’d known, and that knocked me off-kilter. Or maybe it was the fact that he’d now swooped in to help me three times. I wanted to prove—to myself more than anyone—that I was a fully capable, self-reliant adult, but I felt like I’d been failing at that over and over again.
Silence fell between us, and the air practically crackled with electricity.
I averted my gaze from his body, not wanting my thoughts to stray into spicy territory.
A steady drip, drip, drip caught my attention. I glanced down and realized that I was standing in an ever-growing puddle as droplets of water rained slowly but steadily from my sodden clothes.
“Can I get you a towel?” Wyatt asked as he looked down at the puddle. The humorous glint in his eyes had dimmed, although it hadn’t disappeared completely.
“Please,” I replied, deciding I could assert my independence when I wasn’t in danger of soaking the area rug that stood between me and the bathroom. “And get one for yourself too.”
