“We’ll square up when we’re done.”
Jesus, she makes the most adorable little pout as she pops her hip. I’m sure she thinks she’s got some badass scowl on her face, but with her lush pink lips pursed and her thick black lashes lowered over those bright blues, she looks sweet and beautiful—not the least bit intimidating.
Back at my apartment, I change my clothes and swap out Maggie for my other truck, loading tools from my garage into the back of the cab. The run to the hardware store takes longer than I hoped, and by the time I’m back at Chloe’s house, my stomach is grumbling. I should have grabbed some food for us—a six-pack of beer at the very least.
I back my behemoth up to her garage and start moving shit around. Most of the boxes that were strewn across the garage are sopping wet, the cardboard stinking and disintegrating already. She’s got no choice but to go through that stuff now and put it away or throw it.
I unload drywall, a new shower valve, and some other shit, organizing it the best I can. With my tool belt slung over my shoulder, I rap on the door to the kitchen and open it. Sweet hell, there are groceries all over the counter, and Chloe’s bent over, pulling a baking dish from the oven, her perfect curves right there for me. I clear my throat. I don’t want to scare her, but for the love of fucks, I’ve got to get my shit under control.
“Hey,” she says, straightening up. “I ran to the store while you were gone. Figured the least I can do is feed you. Is lasagna okay?”
“Might be better to ask if lasagna is evernotokay.” My stomach clings to my spine; I’m so damn hungry. “I’m just goingto pop upstairs with my tools, and then I’ll be right back.” I throw a thumb over my shoulder even though she’s not looking.
All the stress of coming home to a flood, and Chloe takes the time to get groceries and feed me.
I take the stairs two at a time and drop my tools on her bathroom floor. I poke my head back into her closet and crank the water shutoff valve. Thankfully, the pipe is damaged above the shutoff here, so it’s no big deal to restore water to the rest of the house while I fix the shower. But not until after dinner because the dinner she put together smells better than anything I might have snagged on my way back.
I bypass the kitchen and flip the main water valve back on, relieved that I was right and water isn’t spilling through the ceiling again.
“Water’s back on,” I tell Chloe as I step back into the kitchen.
The perfectOof her mouth makes me smile, not to mention the way her eyes blow wide open. She opens the door to the garage, and when she closes it and turns back to face me, we’re back to her sexy scowl.
“Why is it not raining in my garage, then?”
“Superpowers,” I say, snagging a plate and filling it with food.
Chloe loads her plate and slides a beer in my direction. “I’m so sorry you’re wasting your Friday night. Honestly, I’m good since you got the water back on. I can use Jake’s bathroom,” she rambles. “Seriously, you should go out or whatever.”
“I’ve got a beer and a home-cooked meal. I’m just fine right here.”
There’s no way I’m going to tell her that my other options include a lonely frozen dinner or grabbing drinks with Chance at Chick’s. The bar is fine, but he and I have been there way too much lately. Hell, they might consider putting our names on the deed if we keep up with the pace we’ve been going.
Flavors burst across my tongue with the first bite, and I can’t shovel the food into my mouth fast enough. How long has it been since I had homemade lasagna? It’s not something my mom ever made and?—
Nope.Not going there.
“So good,” I manage to mumble around a mouthful. “Definitely nowhere else I’d rather be.” I clear my plate in no time and scoop out a second helping. I check the label on my beer bottle, impressed with her selection. I lean back, a little embarrassed by how quickly I devoured the dinner she made.
“It’s local. I didn’t know what to get, but the guy at the store said this was close to what I drank at home.” Something catches in Chloe’s voice when she sayshome, but she shakes her head like she’s pushing it away.
“Is that what we had with the tacos? Something you brought down from up north?” Of course, I ask the questions just as her lips close around a big bite of food. I wait as she chews, eyes darting over the freshly tiled backsplash.
She wipes a smudge of sauce from the corner of her mouth and sets her fork on her plate. “Yep. I tried to stock up before the drive down, but there was only so much room for beer in the back of my car with all the other crap I had jammed in there. It’s from my favorite brewery in Beekman Hills, the little town we lived in north of New York City.”
“Yeah, I’d imagine. How long of a drive was it?” It’s ridiculous for me to be concerned about her making that drive by herself.
Chloe hums, scraping her fork through a glob of cheese and sauce and then licking it off.Does she have any idea what she’s doing to me?
“Seven and a half hours maybe? We packed up before Christmas and drove down to my brother’s for the holiday, so I’m kind of guessing. Then, we crashed with my parents until themoving truck showed up.” She digs her fork in, cutting another piece and then cutting it in half before finally taking another bite.
“Think you’ll go back up? Visit friends?”
“And grab more beer?” she asks, smiling. “Maybe. Jake’s other grandparents are up that way, so it’ll happen at some point. But, damn, it was a good beer. I’ve been rationing for two months, trying to make it last.”
“You did good, then.” I nod toward her renovation project, brows raised, fully impressed. “With that, too.”
She glances over her shoulder and turns back to me, setting her half-full plate on the counter. “Why do you look surprised at that?” Her cheeky smile is the cutest thing.
