any of the names; she was too eager to get started, but still.
Wait. While she was at work, her dad had come by to unplug the sink drain in the bathroom. Maybe he’d moved the boxes. She pulled her phone from her purse, then remembered he had a committee meeting tonight.
She went back downstairs, deep in thought, her mind working hard on the puzzle. The front door opened as she reached the foyer.
Cole blew in, a hardware bag rattling in his hands. “Hey.”
“Hi.” She looked him over, biting the inside of her mouth,wondering if he was capable of stealing from her. He didn’t seem the type, but—
“What?” he asked.
She realized he was right beside her, trying to go upstairs, and she was blocking his way.
“Have you—have you seen some big white boxes? They were in the room off the kitchen.”
“Nope. Never go in there.” He paused to look at her. “Why? What’s wrong?”
His calm green eyes settled on her, probing, as if sensing her panic despite her nonchalance. Her thoughts went back several days to when he’d caught her fall. When he’d reacted so quickly, pulling her safely against him.
She was being paranoid. Cole wouldn’t steal from her. He was starting a home for kids, for heaven’s sake. Her dad had probably just moved them.
“Nothing. I just—misplaced something.” Dad had moved them. That had to be it.
But the next day the cookware still hadn’t turned up. Her father didn’t even remember seeing them. She’d confronted the contractor, but he claimed not to know anything about any white boxes, and he seemed sincere, had even helped her look around the house. Maybe someone had come in off the streets while Cole was upstairs working.
She had no choice but to notify Sheriff Simmons, who wasn’t very encouraging about recovering the cookware. Though the house was insured, PJ was supposed to take out a policy for the contents. She hadn’t gotten around to it yet. Now she was short five thousand dollars and she still needed cookware. She wasgoing to have to borrow money from her parents, a thought that sucked the life out of her.
Cole shone his flashlight under the sink. The leak had warped the cabinet base, and he was afraid water would go through to the floor when the sink was used regularly.
A drip beaded on the old pipe where a fitting bulged. He went for his toolbox in the other room. Downstairs was quiet. PJ hadn’t been around all day, which was strange. She was usually there on Wednesdays. The house seemed empty without her self-talk and loud country music.
His lips twitched as he thought of her karaoke. Despite her bad harmonies, the girl sang with the gusto of a rock star. Something miraculous must happen between her mouth and ears, because if she heard herself the way he did, she’d never sing another note.
He grabbed the pliers and crawled into the space under the sink, the smile falling away as he worked the pliers. The rusty fitting wouldn’t budge. After another minute he took a break, frustration setting in.
That emotion hovered pretty close to the surface these days. Between the pressure of getting this house ready, his worry over Lizzy, and his attraction—yes, he was going to call it what it was—to his opponent, he was a little on edge.
He couldn’t help staring at her sometimes. She was so different. Quirky. And yeah, she was beautiful. Those big brown eyes, that wide smile. When they weren’t bickering she was fun,even if her mouth did run constantly. It sure was a pretty little mouth, though.
Cole clenched his jaw and went at the fitting again. What was he doing? He had no business thinking of her that way. But ever since he’d caught her in his arms, he’d hardly been able to think of anything else. It had been so long since he’d held a woman. And she’d been so soft, her slender curves pressed against him. Smelled so good. It wasn’t perfume, he’d surmised from that too-short embrace. It was her hair that smelled all sweet and womanly.
Wait. While she was at work, her dad had come by to unplug the sink drain in the bathroom. Maybe he’d moved the boxes. She pulled her phone from her purse, then remembered he had a committee meeting tonight.
She went back downstairs, deep in thought, her mind working hard on the puzzle. The front door opened as she reached the foyer.
Cole blew in, a hardware bag rattling in his hands. “Hey.”
“Hi.” She looked him over, biting the inside of her mouth,wondering if he was capable of stealing from her. He didn’t seem the type, but—
“What?” he asked.
She realized he was right beside her, trying to go upstairs, and she was blocking his way.
“Have you—have you seen some big white boxes? They were in the room off the kitchen.”
“Nope. Never go in there.” He paused to look at her. “Why? What’s wrong?”
His calm green eyes settled on her, probing, as if sensing her panic despite her nonchalance. Her thoughts went back several days to when he’d caught her fall. When he’d reacted so quickly, pulling her safely against him.
She was being paranoid. Cole wouldn’t steal from her. He was starting a home for kids, for heaven’s sake. Her dad had probably just moved them.
“Nothing. I just—misplaced something.” Dad had moved them. That had to be it.
But the next day the cookware still hadn’t turned up. Her father didn’t even remember seeing them. She’d confronted the contractor, but he claimed not to know anything about any white boxes, and he seemed sincere, had even helped her look around the house. Maybe someone had come in off the streets while Cole was upstairs working.
She had no choice but to notify Sheriff Simmons, who wasn’t very encouraging about recovering the cookware. Though the house was insured, PJ was supposed to take out a policy for the contents. She hadn’t gotten around to it yet. Now she was short five thousand dollars and she still needed cookware. She wasgoing to have to borrow money from her parents, a thought that sucked the life out of her.
Cole shone his flashlight under the sink. The leak had warped the cabinet base, and he was afraid water would go through to the floor when the sink was used regularly.
A drip beaded on the old pipe where a fitting bulged. He went for his toolbox in the other room. Downstairs was quiet. PJ hadn’t been around all day, which was strange. She was usually there on Wednesdays. The house seemed empty without her self-talk and loud country music.
His lips twitched as he thought of her karaoke. Despite her bad harmonies, the girl sang with the gusto of a rock star. Something miraculous must happen between her mouth and ears, because if she heard herself the way he did, she’d never sing another note.
He grabbed the pliers and crawled into the space under the sink, the smile falling away as he worked the pliers. The rusty fitting wouldn’t budge. After another minute he took a break, frustration setting in.
That emotion hovered pretty close to the surface these days. Between the pressure of getting this house ready, his worry over Lizzy, and his attraction—yes, he was going to call it what it was—to his opponent, he was a little on edge.
He couldn’t help staring at her sometimes. She was so different. Quirky. And yeah, she was beautiful. Those big brown eyes, that wide smile. When they weren’t bickering she was fun,even if her mouth did run constantly. It sure was a pretty little mouth, though.
Cole clenched his jaw and went at the fitting again. What was he doing? He had no business thinking of her that way. But ever since he’d caught her in his arms, he’d hardly been able to think of anything else. It had been so long since he’d held a woman. And she’d been so soft, her slender curves pressed against him. Smelled so good. It wasn’t perfume, he’d surmised from that too-short embrace. It was her hair that smelled all sweet and womanly.
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