“Hey.” In two steps, I’m in front of her again. This time, I link our fingers, squeezing gently. “Panic isn’t rational. You know that.”
“Knowin’ and acceptin’ are two different things.” After a beat, she sidesteps me, pulls a spoon from a drawer, and scoops out the tea bags. “Come on, if you’re serious about wantin’ to see my heater, I’ll show you where it is.”
I cup my mug, letting the warmth seep into my fingers as I follow her to a door half hidden behind her coat rack. The narrow stairway leads to a large, unfinished space. A fluorescent shop light hangs from an exposed beam running across the ceiling.
“Holy shit. My entire apartment would fit down here.”
She chuckles, the husky sound making it hard to remember what I’m supposed to be doing. Which is not lusting after a woman I’ve only just met.
Raelynn drags a decorative screen away from the far corner of the room. The heater—a metal behemoth that’s bigger than I am—looms all the way to the ceiling. “Wow. How old is this thing?”
“Older than dirt in dog years.” She blows on the hot tea, and I can’t tear my eyes away from her lips.
Get it together. You’re supposed to be looking at the furnace. Not trying for a hook up.
Setting my mug down on a storage trunk, I run my hand over the belly of the metal beast. “My pops was a handyman. We lived in Seattle for a few years when I was a teenager, and he’d bring me with him on the weekends. These old Howells were his specialty. Along with knob and tube wiring.”
She snorts. “Got plenty of that. It’s all through this place. I’m savin’ up to have it replaced next year.” She shivers, her shoulders hunched. It’s too cold down here for someone who was hypothermic only twenty minutes ago.
Popping the cover off the control unit, I scan the electrical panel. “Looks like all the fuses blew. Probably a power surge. See these wires here? They’re melted.”
“Well, shit.” She draws the word out, one hand on her hip. “This place is gonna bankrupt me. If it don’t kill me first.”
Frustration and despair edge her tone. I set the panel on the floor and brush my hands on my jeans. “I can’t do anything without my tools. And some research. But I can probably get her running again with a little work.” Raelynn stares at me, disbelief arching her brows. “I promise I know what I’m doing.”
“I met you yesterday for all of two shakes,” she says. “But for some reason, I invited you down to my basement late at night. I’m actin’ a damn fool.” She stalks over to the stairs. “You should go, Nash.”
“West knows me,” I offer. “And Adam. He runs Broadcast Coffee. They’ll both tell you I’m not a serial killer.”
“Adam?” She’s slightly less wary now, but still ushers me ahead of her back to the living room. “How do you know him?”
After she shuts the door to the basement, she leans against the hearth, as close to the fire as she can. Dammit. I knew she was still cold.
Instead of wrapping my arms around her like I want, I mirror her position on the other side of the bricks. “I live in the little studio over Broadcast. When I got to Seattle—a few months ago—I was staying at a hostel downtown. But it took me a while to find work.” A sip of tea surprises me with how good it is, and I take another. “So I started sleeping in my car.”
“Your car…? Sheeeit, Nash. This is supposed to make me trust you?”
“You might if you let me finish,” I offer with a smile. She holds her mug close to her chest, long fingers fluttering over the design of the Space Needle. “I move around a lot. Hostels are cheap. Usually safe. And a great place to meet people. Get the lay of the land. One of the things you learn there? What streets to park on to get a good night’s sleep. The Green Lake neighborhood is safe, and as long as you move your car every night, no one’s likely call the cops.”
“Still waitin’ for the part where I trust you,” Raelynn mutters.
Chuckling, I set my mug on the mantle. “I picked up a couple of odd jobs right after I left the hostel. And since I wasn’t spending money for a bed every night, I started treating myself to coffee.”
By the time I finish explaining how I came to live above Broadcast, she’s relaxed a little. I even get her to smile when I tell her about fixing one of the barstools right under Adam’s nose. “I sat on the floor with my wrench for ten minutes before he noticed.”
Despite her grin, she leans against the hearth like it’s the only thing holding her up. “He’s so amped on caffeine, he’s on a higher plane of existence. At least that’s what West says about him. I’ve only met him a handful of times, but he and West go way back.”
Shit. Why didn’t I notice how tired she was? I run a hand through my hair, finding it only slightly damp. “I should go. It’s late. But…your heater? Will you let me take a crack at it?”
With a sigh, she picks up my mug. “Okay. If you think you can get her running…”
“I can.” I pull out my phone. “Tomorrow, I’m patching a roof up in Lake City. But after that, I’m free for a few days. Give me your number and I’ll text you to arrange a time for me to come over.”
Warmth spreads through me when she rattles off the number and adds, “So…this weekend?”
The promise in her tone is intoxicating, and if I thought she’d let me, I’d wrap my arms around her one more time before I go. Instead, I shove my hands into my pockets and nod. “This weekend.”
Chapter Five
