Dominic stretched outhis legs across the sofa cushion as the light of the sunset streaming through his bay window illuminated the pages of the book in his hand. Months ago, he used to be able to enjoy this quiet time when the wolves of Tolstone didn’t need him to solve their problems or keep the peace. Now, he found himself reading the same sentence over and over again as the grandfather clock ticked away in the hall.
His mind was elsewhere, and his thoughts wandered next door with his senses as he listened for Erica. She often played nineties pop music while she worked around the house, but most of the noises coming from her home were indecipherable. Bangs, crashes, hammering, some nameless mechanical whirling of power tools. It was this not knowing what she was doing that drove him batshit crazy every waking hour for the past two days.
The shifters who delivered her furniture told him that her house was still a bit of a mess and practically barren besides a few pieces of cheap furniture. As if that wasn’t upsetting enough, he had to endure their rough talk about how fine her ass looked in her flannel pajama pants when they delivered the sofa.
Every hour, he had to remind himself that she didn’t belong to him. She wasn’t going to come over at any moment, bang on his door like the rest of the pack did and beg for something. But he wished that she would.
A loud crash broke through his weak concentration, and he snapped the book shut. The clanging of metal and sloshing of water coming from Erica’s house was followed by a string ofunladylike curses that almost made him smile. Whatever was going on next door, it wasn’t pleasant.
Dominic set his book on the end table and was about to push himself off the couch when he realized what he was about to do. Almost reflexively, he was ready to come to her rescue. But why? Why would he toss away a perfectly good moment like this? Hank hadn’t blown up his phone, Wyatt wasn’t missing, Gage had his tiny pack well under control, and Cole was making arrangements for Shane’s move to Tolstone. Everything was running like a well-oiled machine for the first time in what seemed like months. He knew it would be short-lived, but Dominic wanted to leave his house to go to Erica’s rescue.
Was he insane?
*
The linoleum kitchen floor glistened with a thin layer of mucky sink water. The plastic wrappers from the hardware store, the wrench, and all the new plumbing pieces were now dampened by the sopping mess. At least she’d had the sense to clear out all her cleaning supplies from the cabinet before she took off the P-trap. Now the entire base of the cabinet was under a sheet of water and foul blackish waste.
The seat and thighs of her gray sweatpants were soaked, the torn and paint-speckled work shirt was sprinkled with that same fetid water that had accumulated in the P-trap. Her bare feet were chilled in the massive, growing puddle.
A Savage Garden album was set as background music to her disaster. She stood and grimaced at the mess, completely unsure of where to begin. Did she pick up the pieces on the floor first, or grab a towel to clean up the water? The spare towels were all the way upstairs and she’d track gunk through the house if she triedto fetch them. The kitchen rags would clean up her feet at least. But what about that filth that fell out of the trap?
She snatched the thin rooster dish towels her mother had given her when she moved out of the house after high school and picked up a foot to dry it off. A knock came at the door, and she nearly fell over. Had someone heard her screaming next door? Or was the music too loud for Tracy and Burt? They had already come over once to tell her to keep it down after nine o’clock, though she hadn’t thought it was playing very loud at all.
She hopped her way out of the mess and dried off her other foot. “Just a minute!”
Erica knew she looked like trash with her hair tossed up into a careless bun and outfit unfit for going out in public. She threw open the door, face hot with frustration.
Dominic stood in front of her, shaded by the gardenia bushes she still hadn’t trimmed around the porch. His warm, spicy cologne hit her nose, and she felt herself decompress as a blush rose into her cheeks. She hadn’t stood this close to him in days, and she had almost forgotten how magical his presence felt.
“I heard some noise and wanted to make sure everything was all right.”
His voice was like a balm to her nerves, but those nerves didn’t stay quiet for long. She realized how absolutely horrific she must look. Nothing like the prim businesswoman he had met last time in his shop. This felt like a nightmare, like the ones where she was in the middle of a test in school wearing nothing but a towel that steadily grew smaller and smaller. She tried to laugh it off and rebuild the defenses he threatened to break down with one look from his gorgeous eyes. In this light, they appeared almost luminescent.
“Yeah, I’m replacing my kitchen sink piping.”
His brows furrowed. “Were they leaking?”
“Well, it started clogging, and I saw that it was all metal, so I wanted to replace it with PVC.” Erica pinched her shirt. “I just didn’t realize what a mess I’d make.”
Dominic’s amused gaze swept over her, as if he hadn’t expected to see her like that, but he enjoyed the view anyway. She wondered if he could see the bit of skin on her belly through an old tear in the cotton.
“Have you replaced plumbing before?” he asked.
She made a face. “Sort of. My mom did once and I helped, but I remember how to do it. The package came with instructions too.”
His eyes flitted over her shoulder and peeked down the hall that led toward the kitchen. “Need any help? The old piping on some of these houses can be pretty tricky.”
Erica opened her mouth to say that she had it covered, but Dominic was already a few steps inside the foyer. To avoid being run over, she skipped out of the way, her slightly slick feet slapping on the wood floor.
“I think I’ve got it. I just took the P-trap out and I need to clean up the gunk now.”
Not once in all the wild and silly fantasies had she imagined Dominic in her home while she looked like a hot mess and the kitchen under water.
Somewhat too stunned to say anything, she watched his stare roam from the stairs to the crooked chandelier, then through the archway into the living room. It was then she realized what song was playing on the radio over the fireplace. “I Knew I Loved You” by Savage Garden.
Mortified, she dashed past him and yanked the power cord out of the wall instead of trying to fumble with the buttons on the stereo.
He chuckled as he continued toward the kitchen. “You didn’t have to stop that on my account.”
