“Don’t judge the cabin too much. It’s still a work in progress,” I preempted, trying to make my tone sound lighthearted. But really, I feared there might be a gun or something underneath the fridge I hadn’t discovered, andI’d have to explain why it was there. I could only pray I’d gotten all the survival weapons out of the house when I did my deep clean.
“I promise I won’t judge,” Jay said with a slightly amused smile.
I shoved the squeaky door open and led him into the house. It was sweltering inside the cabin, the humid heat coating everything it touched because the AC was broken as well.
“AC broken?” he guessed, and I flushed with embarrassment.
“You don’t happen to know how to fix an AC, too, do you?”
He chuckled. “I don’t know much, but my father used to work on houses. He’s taught me a couple of things over the years. I can definitely give it a try. Let’s start with the fridge?”
I nodded and hurried to guide him into the kitchen, showing him the fridge that had to be at least forty years old.
I cracked a window open for more ventilation while he kneeled down and pulled the fridge out from the wall. It moved with surprising ease, and he started fiddling with the wires and plugs.
I jumped up onto the countertop to watch, biting my lip unconsciously. The whole situation was very odd—having my incredibly good-looking neighbor in my kitchen, fixing the fridge.
I swung my legs on the island, the back of my thighs sticking to the tile. I’d put on a tank top and jean shorts after changing out of my interview clothes, too hot to wear anything else in the cabin’s heat. I could feel sweat on mybrow and on the backs of my knees. I reached for the kitchen rag by the sink and dabbed at my forehead.
“So what do you think is wrong with it?” I asked.
“It looks like the compressor is the culprit,” Jay said, getting up from the floor and holding in his hands a metal thing that resembled a small crockpot.
“Is it fixable?” I looked at the refrigerator part, but I had no idea what it did or how to fix it.
“Looks like the coils just need to be cleaned. Do you have some cleaner and maybe some rags?”
I hopped off the kitchen counter to retrieve them. When I returned, I passed him the cleaner and rags, and he set the compressor on the counter and began wiping the grime from the coils inside. I watched him work and kept chewing on my lower lip.
“So why did you move into your brother’s cabin?” Jay asked, his eyes not straying from the compressor.
I didn’t think admitting I was running from my lavish lifestyle in the city because I was tired of my father’s controlling nature and mentally messed up from his best friend/dental associate would be a great first impression. So I went with something more vague.
“Oh, you know, just having a quarter-life crisis at the moment. I needed a change of scenery.”
He chuckled, and the sound filled the kitchen. It had been so quiet the last few days, and it felt nice to have another person in the cabin.
“What about you?” I asked, secretly hoping I’d be able to lead the conversation toward his career. I was still picturing a podiatrist after Emily had said that, and I wanted to get toe warts off my mind if at all possible. “Big Bear doesn’t seem like a place to take up permanent residence.”
“It’s true. Typically, people don’t settle down in this little mountain town, but I own a business here.”
Perfect, I thought. A flawless segue into?—
But just when I was about to ask what kind of business he ran, I spotted a flicker of movement across the kitchen floor. I screamed before I could stop myself, then jumped onto the kitchen chair like a squatted duck, hugging my knees to my chest.
“Mouse!” I squealed, and the little creature scurried across the wood floors to a hole beneath the kitchen cabinets.
Jay startled a little at my high-pitched squeal and turned to see the little fuzzy creature just as it disappeared.
“Should you be staying here? Mice can carry diseases?—”
“Don’t. Just—don’t.” I shut my eyes and tried not to think about tiny, disease-riddled paws touching everything. “Please, just fix the fridge.”
“You got it,Amapolita,” Jay said, and there it was—amusement threading through his tone again.
My eyes snapped open, narrowing at him. “What are you calling me now? Little Tornado?”
“So you looked upRemolino?” His mouth betrayed him with the slightest twitch.
