“Actually, a plumber will be paying us a visit. But only tomorrow.”
“Okay.” Maybe she needed him to shake hands with the guy? To make sure he was legit and did a good job. Why else would she call him about it?
“I was going to ask you if you’d mind if my house sitter Alyssa and Mr. Fluffers slept over at your house tonight. He hates hotels and tends to bark a lot around strangers. I looked into short term rentals, but they’re all taken. You know, since it’s summer.”
The hairs on the back of his neck prickled. He straightened his shoulders, his body already automatically guarding itself into preservation mode. Alyssa would stay overnight. He curled his fingers into a ball. He could say no, of course. He wasn’t required to help. “I understand.”
“Anyway, if you wouldn’t mind, I’m sure you won’t even notice they’re around.”
Hardly. But he couldn’t get into why he’d be very much aware that she was under his roof. Was fate tempting him? He usually didn’t believe in any of that shit. Though maybe it was karma for past mistakes—he’d have to gather every ounce of strength not to give into desire. He would do the right thing. “That’s just one night, right?”
“Yes, the plumber will be over tomorrow.”
One night. He sucked in a breath. “Okay, then no problem.”
“Thank you. I’ll let her know. I know it’s a big ask.”
You have no idea. “No worries, Alice. Just enjoy your vacation and I’ll help out however I can.”
“Thank you dear. I knew I could count on you.”
3
“I’ve never been more thankful for your anxiety issues, Mr. Fluffers,” Alyssa whispered to the labradoodle before planting a kiss on the top of his head. Then, she knocked on the same door she had knocked three days earlier. “I’ll give you grain-free, gluten-free, organic treats later.”
Excitement filled her, all her nerve endings bursting at the seams with anticipation. When the watercooler stopped working, a lightbulb lit in her head. Literally, as she’d been sitting in the breakfast nook under a big chandelier.
She needed a good reason to see Knox again. For the past three days, she’d tried everything she could without going over—her swimsuits got skimpier and skimpier, but they didn’t encourage him to come over and say hi. If anything, they had the opposite effect: his curtains were always drawn, windows closed. She could feel his gaze from a distance, but he didn’t act on it. Meeting him by chance was nearly impossible.
Until… this idea popped in her mind. What if she messed with the pipes just enough to find the perfect excuse to go to his place for a few days? Extreme time together under the same roof had to show him their business wasn’t finished by a long shot.
So she played with the pipes—a craft she learned from her foster dad, who was a plumber. And called Mrs. Smith—making herself a note to give some homeless person healthy food or volunteer at an animal shelter to balance her karma. She hated lying and conniving, yes, but in this case, the truth wouldn’t get her far. And if an innocent little lie landed her on his bed, all would be worth it, right?
When the door swung open and he showed up, Knox Barret, the man who would take her V-card if she had it her way, she sucked in her breath. He wore a pair of denim jeans and white shirt, and had never looked sexier. Had his muscles grown ever since she’d seen him? As he towered over her, his imposing presence occupied every corner within sight.
“Hi,” she said, in a neutral voice. “Mrs. Smith told me she’d called you?” she added, careful not to sound too eager.
“Yes. Come in.” He opened the door wider and gestured for her to enter. She let Mr. Fluffers in, and he strolled into the foyer, smelling everything he could manage. His tail was down at first, because he was unsure, but within a few minutes she knew he’d loosen up.
She had her duffel bag in tow, but he kindly took it off her, the quick gesture enough to shoot a short-circuit up her arm. “Thanks.”
“You’re welcome,” he said, his voice curt. “When the plumber arrives tomorrow, I’m glad to talk to him if you’d like. I’ve run into these issues a couple of times before, and can tell straight away when they know what they’re doing.”
I bet you do. Though he’d have a problem since said plumber didn’t exist. She’d told Mrs. Smith that she arranged for a plumber, not to worry her. But she knew how to fix the problem herself. “Sounds good. Where do I sleep?” she asked, and a tiny part of her wished it was on top of him. Or beside him.
Thrills zapped down her spine.
He tilted his head to the side, cocking it in the direction of a long hallway. “The guest rooms are down the hall. I set up the last one to the left for you.”
“Thanks,” she said, and walked to it. Mr. Fluffers followed close behind, and even though Knox didn’t move, somehow she felt his gaze on her.
What did set up mean? Did he just remove junk from it? Did he ponder about which room would best suit her personality? Or did he just figure the farthest bedroom from him would do the job?
She stepped into the room’s interior, noticing the eggshell colored walls, the sleek large TV, and the polished wood of the bedframe. The space was functional, elegant, and sterile, like it belonged in a hotel. It didn’t have the warmth of the rest of the house, or at least what she had seen.
She traced over the furniture, sliding her fingers over the craftmanship. The Smiths’s home was also high-end, but being here, in this room, filled her with hope. So far, her little scheme had worked. For once, something had gone the way she wanted in her life. She couldn’t be so off base, could she?
“Fluffers is a bit antsy,” said the deep male voice, not too far from her.
