He barely glanced. "Screw the door."
I tried to laugh. "I don't want to screwthe door.That's what I want to do withyou."
A slow smile spread across his face. "Yeah?"
I nodded. I didn't merely want him. I was craving him like oxygen after being underwater too long. But there was no way on Earth I'd leave Maisie's door, splintered and half off its hinges while I dragged him upstairs for what Ireallywanted.
For some reason, he laughed.
I asked, "What's so funny?"
"I know what you're gonna say."
"What?"
"That we're not doing anything until I fix the door."
"And that's funny?"
"Hell, yeah." His voice softened. "And sweet. You're a good person. I like that about you."
"I'm notthatgood," I said as a rush of warmth slid through me. "If you only knew what going through my mind."
"Oh,Iknow," he said. "Because I'm pretty sure I'm thinking the same thing."
67
Hammer Time
Tessa
Like an awestruck idiot, I couldn't stop staring. In the back entryway, I let out a long, unsteady breath. "Wow."
Ryder had found a hammer in Maisie's back shed, along with some boards he'd been nailing across the damaged doorway.
He paused in mid-swing. "What?"
My lips suddenly felt dry. "I didn't know hammering could be so distracting." I meant it, too, because what Ireallywanted was for Ryder to be hammeringme.
No tools required.
But there he was, doing what I'd asked – bracing Maisie's door to make it safe for the night, promising to have it fixed as good as new in the morning.
It seemed impossible. The frame was shattered. The door was splintered. And the hinges were barely holding on.
The only upside was that during the entire time I'd lived here, I had never once seen Maisie use this door. She always came in and out through the front, probably because that's where she stored her bike.
When Ryder returned to hammering, I couldn't stop myself from saying, "And by distracting, I mean sexy."
Ryder stopped and lowered the hammer to his side. With a crooked smile, he asked, "Are youtryingto kill me?"
I let out a small, helpless laugh. "It's notmyfault.You'rethe one looking all tempting."
It was true.He'd shrugged out of his jacket, leaving him in damp jeans and a dark shirt that clung faintly from the rain, outlining his muscular shoulders and chest.
I was still wearing the borrowed clothes – Ryder's shorts and that T-shirt, both too soggy to be comfortable. And yes, I could've changed, but it seemed incredibly unfair to makehimsuffer in wet clothes while I was comfy and dry.
So here I was – wet, cold, and burning inside.
