"Take all the time you need."
My phone buzzes in my pocket. I pull it out and check the screen.
Sergio: Everything okay?
I type back:Pipe burst. Major damage. She needs a place to stay.
His response is immediate:Bring her here.
Me: She's hesitant.
Sergio: Then convince her. Pack meeting when you get back.
I shove the phone back in my pocket and turn to Jessica, who's watching me with those hazel eyes.
"Let me at least do the temporary patch," I say, keeping my voice gentle. "Get your water running again. Then you can decide about the rest."
She nods slowly. "Okay."
I get to work.
The patch takes longer than it should because my hands won't stop shaking. Every time I reach for a tool, I remember the feel of her waist under my palm, soft and warm and perfect.
This is torture. Exquisite, beautiful torture.
I fit the coupling around the broken section and tighten it down, testing the seal with my fingers. The metal is cold, slick with water, but the connection is solid. It'll hold. For now.
"I need to turn the water back on," I call out, my voice echoing in the small bathroom. "Can you go down to the basement and open the valve?"
"I'll try." Her voice is uncertain. "It was stuck earlier. Like, really stuck. I almost dislocated my shoulder trying to turn it."
"I loosened it when I came in, so it should turn easier now."
I hear her footsteps retreat down the stairs, the sound of her moving through the house. A few minutes later, the pipes groan and shudder as water flows back through the system.
I hold my breath, watching the connection.
No leaks. The patch is holding.
I slide out from under the sink and stand up, stretching the kinks out of my back. The bathroom floor is still flooded, water sloshing around my boots, but at least no new water is coming in.
Jessica appears in the doorway, slightly out of breath, her cheeks flushed from the exertion.
"Did it work?"
"For now." I start packing up my tools, coiling the flashlight cord with practiced efficiency. "But this is temporary. You need to use the bathroom downstairs until I can do a proper replacement."
She nods, hugging herself again. She's still shivering, her lips slightly blue, and she's still wearing that goddamn transparent t-shirt that's driving me insane.
"You need to change," I say, and my voice comes out rougher than I intended. "You're going to get hypothermia."
"All my clothes are wet."
"Your mom's room?"
"She took most of her warm stuff to Mexico." She laughs, but there's no humor in it. "Because of course she did."
Of course she did.
