Read Online Dear Emily by Julie Ann Levin - Free Book Online Page B

the valve to shut off the
water?” Chase asked, focused and on track, responding to the
situation as if she were in way over her head.
    For the record, she was.
    Looking even better than she
remembered, he was glorious in his relaxed jeans and threadbare
T-shirt, tight across his chest and loose around his flat
stomach.
    “The what?” Natalie asked, still
standing in the spray, pretending like she wasn't just ogling
him.
    “Outside, Nat.” He offered her a
bemused smile, giving Natalie the impression that he knew exactly
what she was doing. “There should be a valve to shut off all the
water to the house.”
    “Should I have turned that off before
working on the faucet?”
    He rewarded her with a broad grin, and
Natalie's brain went fuzzy, all neurons getting lost in a wave of
static. She'd seen pictures of him, but she forgot how mind
crippling his smile could be in real time.
    “Nat, the valve?”
    Natalie pushed her shoulders back and
lifted her chin. “Under the bushes. On the... west side of the
house.”
    He grimaced. “Of course it's under the
bushes. Get out of the tub. You're soaked.”
    Natalie's eyes widened, and she shook
her head at the spot where Chase once stood. He sounded so bossy
that she almost stayed put just to spite him. Instead, she climbed
out of the tub and chastised herself for not turning the valve off
in the first place.
    The water slowed and then stopped
running altogether. She breathed a shaky sigh of relief. This
didn't fix the faucet, but at least the meter wasn't running up at
breakneck speed anymore. Besides, she had other things to worry
about. Natalie hadn’t seen Chase Hammond in eight years. Not that
she was counting.
    Chase returned to the bathroom and
stared at her bedraggled state. She warmed as his eyes swept up and
down her body.
    She touched her palms to her cheeks.
Yep, she was blushing. Just like when they were younger.
    He leaned on the doorjamb with one
hand at his waist. “The valve's on the east side of the house in
case you were wondering.”
    Natalie's head jerked in his
direction. “Like I'm supposed to remember directional indicators at
the drop of a hat? There was water spraying at my face.”
    She looked down, having forgotten what
she was wearing: Yoga pants, and a white shirt that clung to her
body. Feeling nothing but ready for a wet T-shirt contest, she
raised her chin and crossed her arms over her chest.
    Again, the corners of Chase's mouth
tipped up. She dropped her arms to her sides in response. “Would
you please hand me the towel?”
    He did, without urgency if she had any
opinion on the matter, and she wrapped it around her
shoulders.
    “The faucet?” he asked.
    She held her hand out. “It's right
here and not at all attached to the wall where it
belongs.”
    He made a valiant effort to suppress
his laughter and failed spectacularly.
    “Please stop laughing.” Although she
was forcing back her own laughter. His laugh was contagious that
way. It was a full-body laugh, the way he threw his head back. Hers
wasn't so good. It was the kind of laugh that could turn into
sobbing if she wasn't careful.
    “Were you always this serious?” He
took a step toward her and pulled the towel tighter around her
shoulders. “Come on, you think it's a little funny.”
    He was so close, and Natalie worked at
remaining unaffected. But he smelled like he was genetically
designed to excite her hormones. If only she could press her face
against his neck and get a sampling of the goods.
    “Do I look like I'm laughing, Chase?
The video made it look so fricking easy.”
    “It always seems easier in the
video.”
    She snorted. “Right, like you need to
watch videos to fix things.”
    “You'd be surprised,” he
said.
    She sighed and ran a hand over her wet
ponytail. “I wanted to get these repairs done before my shift at
the hospital.”
    “I'm sure you were about to finish,
and I interrupted you.”
    She narrowed her eyes. “I do stuff
like this all the time,