“You are not going to believe what happened to me today,” I moaned into the phone as I plopped back on the sofa.
“What? Are you okay?” Brandy sounded worried, but I knew that in a matter of minutes she would be laughing hysterically.
“Oh, I’m alright. My pride is a bit wounded and my tailbone is bruised, but I’m just peachy,” I replied. “After I dropped you off, I decided to run by the hardware store and pick up paint. I wanted to at least get a little bit done before I went to work on Tuesday. Well, when I got home, I was getting everything out of the trunk, and one of the bags got caught. I yanked on it, and it broke and I flew back and fell on my ass.”
Brandy burst out laughing but stopped, “But you’re alright?” She started laughing again.
“Yes, my butt hurts, but it’s alright.” I kicked my shoes off and curled my legs under me on the couch.
“So how did your pride get hurt?” I heard music on her end of the phone and figured she was in her car.
“The sexy-as-hell married police officer who lives next door saw the whole thing,” I muttered.
Brandy laughed so hard, I pulled the phone from my ear until she quieted down. “Did he come help you, or did he stand there and laugh?”
“Oh, it gets better.” I went on to tell her how he had helped me get up and caught me as I almost passed out, then how he’d carried me into the house and fed me his own lunch.
“Are you serious?” While I heard humor in her voice, I also heard concern. “You sure it was sugar and not a head injury?”
“I am positive it was sugar. I was fine fifteen minutes after I ate the sandwich.” I thought for a moment about how good it had felt being held in his arms, although being held against his stiff vest and having something pointy and hard from his belt jabbing into my back hadn’t been very comfortable. That didn’t matter because I could just imagine how it would feel to be up against him without those things, and without clothes, too. I fanned my face.
“Wow, you have your own hero right next door,” Brandy teased.
“He’s not mine, Brandy. Remember, he’s married, and I gave up married men for Lent.” She snorted into my ear. “Besides, I was so embarrassed after he left; I pray to God I never see him again.”
“Yeah, right,” she sputtered into the phone. “I bet you already have your next sugar episode planned.”
“What?” I gasped. “I didn’t do that on purpose.”
“I know that, Casey, but now you know that he will come running.”
“Whatever, Brandy.” Although, it sure would be nice if he did, I thought to myself.
Brandy and I talked for a few more minutes before she had to get going. I stared at the wall where I had spent the afternoon painting. The old stain was still visible. In fact under the soft peach paint, it seemed to jump out at me more than before.
I never expected painting to be so hard. When I was at the hardware store, I had found a nice employee who helped me pick out all the things I would need. As I stared at the wall, I frowned and wondered what I had done wrong.
A knock on the door broke me out of my musings, and I groaned as I pushed myself up slowly. Between falling on the ground and then spending the day climbing up and down off a ladder with my arms over my head while I painted, my body was stiff and sore. What I wouldn’t give for a nice body massage.
I pulled open the door to see darkness outside and a figure standing in the shadows.
“You should look through the peephole first, or ask who it is. You shouldn’t just open the door, especially without a light on out here.” Thad stepped forward.
“Sorry, I wasn’t expecting company,” I leaned over to flick the light switch, but nothing happened when I did, “and the light doesn’t work.”
“Probably just needs a new bulb.”
“Come on in,” I held the door open and stepped back, “I owe you another thank you.” As Thad stepped into the light from my living room, my eyes grew a mind of their own and slowly studied every inch of him. He was in black track pants, sweatshirt, and sneakers, and I couldn’t tear my gaze away as he moved past me. Then they zeroed in on his backside. Oh my!
Married—he’s married, I mentally reminded myself.
“No, you don’t owe me anything,” he said as he turned, his hands tucked into the front pocket of his sweatshirt. “I’m glad I was there to help.”
“As embarrassing as it was for me, I’m actually glad you were, too.” I closed the door, “Can I offer you a beer? I did manage to get to the store today.”
He smiled and his eyes lit up, “Did you eat dinner, too?”
“Yes, sir, I did. I even had an afternoon snack. Did you want that beer? It’s the least I can do for you.” I stepped toward the kitchen and turned back to him, finding his eyes snapping up from my own butt. Ah, so he was checking me out.
That thought thrilled me at the same time that it pissed me off.
“Sure, I’ll take one since I’m actually off with no chances of getting called back in tonight.” He winced, “I probably shouldn’t jinx myself like that.”
I laughed and went into the kitchen to get two beers. When I returned, I pointed to one of the two side chairs and handed him his drink. I returned to my position on the couch and gingerly sat down.
“You alright? You look like you hurt.” He sipped his beer.
“I’m not used to so much physical activity, especially when it started with taking a beating against the pavement. I’m sure a hot shower and some Motrin will work wonders on me.”
He turned his head to study the stain on the wall, and I cringed. I had really hoped to get that covered already.
“You need primer,” he stated and took a long pull from his green bottle. His Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed, and I controlled my sudden urge to lick my lips.
“I need what?” I asked, confused by his statement and the feelings he brought forth in me so quickly.
“Primer, you need to put a heavy coat of primer over the stain, or if you really want to get rid of that, cut out that section of the wall and replace it.”
I shook my head, “You make that sound so easy, cut out that section and replace it.”
He laughed, “What? It’s not that hard to do. I could do it for you.” He leaned up, holding his beer bottle between his knees with both hands. His fingers were long; his nails cut short and clean.
I cleared my throat as I wondered what those fingers would feel like on my skin. “What is primer?”
“It gets you ready.” Did I just imagine his voice grow low and sexy?
“Gets you ready for what?” Whatever it was, I wanted to know more; especially if it was going to get me ready for him.
He stared at me for a long moment, his eyes dark and sexy. “The wall, it gets the wall ready. It’s a thick paint that covers stains. You spread that on, but sometimes you need a second coat.” He stared at the stain, “You could probably cover it with two coats, but…” He stopped.
“But what?”
He stood and approached the wall, tapping his knuckles over the stain area and around it. It was about two feet wide in spots and the entire length of the wall from ceiling to floor.
“But I think you are going to want to cut this out and replace it.” He looked at me over his shoulder, “Come here.”
I set my beer down and went to stand beside him, having no idea what he was going to show me.
“Tap your knuckle on this part of the wall over here,” he pointed to a spot a few feet away, “and then tap here.”
I did as he said and immediately noticed that the board near the stain was spongy, and not solid and firm. “What does that mean?”
He sighed, “It means that the wallboard has so much water damage that it’s falling apart. Chances are there is a lot of mold in the board and behind it.”
“Mold!” I stepped away from the wall, almost knocking into him. “I can’t live with mold in my walls.”
Thad chuckled, “Yeah, not very healthy. I think the best thing to do is let me cut this out for you tomorrow and let’s take a look at what’s behind the wall. It might just be this one board, and we can replace that easily.”
“And what else could it be?” I stared at the offending wall. Being an ER nurse, I was familiar with what mold could do to the respiratory system.
“Well,” he sipped his beer, “we could open it up and find that all the studs and surrounding sections are ruined, too.”
“You’re kidding!” I stared at his profile, zeroing in on his neck again as he swallowed. Why was that action so damned hot?
“Let’s just hope it’s the board.”
I groaned and plopped down on the sofa, laying my head back on the seat cushion. “I didn’t even think it could be mold.”
“Well,” he began hesitantly, “that could also explain the odd smell in here, too.”
I lifted my head and picked up my beer, “Oh, no. That’s the carpet.”
“What’s the carpet?” He glanced down around his feet.
“The odd smell, that’s the carpet.” I took a long guzzle from my beer.
His lip curved up as he continued looking over the carpet. “Well, we need to get the carpet up, too.”
“I can take care of that,” I stated as I sat up straight. While I was really appreciative of his offer to help with the wall—because I had no clue about replacing one—I could manage the carpet.
“You ever pull carpet up before?” he smirked.
“No, but it can’t be that hard,” I retorted. Just because he saw me almost pass out after I went bottom first into the cement, did not mean I wasn’t a capable person.
“You do know that there is a pad under the carpet that needs to come up, too, and most likely it is stapled down, which means you have to pull up all the staples, or you will cut your feet or trip. I’d hate to see you fall down again.”
Oh, low blow! “Ha ha!” I glared at the floor. “Fine, if you really want to help. I’ll take it.”
He laughed and threw back the rest of his beer. “What time do you get up?”
I raised my eyebrow at him, “Why?”
“So I can come over and start working.”
“Tomorrow?” I sputtered.
“Yeah, I’m off. I don’t have any plans right now, so I can help out.” He went into the kitchen and I heard the water turn on. He must have been rinsing out his bottle. The water went off and he returned a moment later, “So what time do you get up?”
“Usually by five,” I replied, expecting him to be surprised.
He grinned, “Great. I’ll be here by five-thirty. Have the coffee on. We have a lot to get done before the hardware store opens at eight.”
My mouth fell open, “You’re seriously going to come over here at five-thirty in the morning to help me work on my house? On your day off?” I stressed the last part.
“I sure am. Sleep well, Casey. I’ll see you tomorrow, and thanks for the beer.” He winked at me again and was out the door before I could respond. Whoa…how did that happen?
Crap, okay, whatever. I finished my beer while glaring at the offending stain on my wall. Mold! Damn it.
After rinsing out my bottle, I figured now was a good time to take a nice hot shower.
I stood under the spray and let the warm water spread down over my shoulders and neck. With my eyes closed, it was easy to recall the bright blue of Thad’s eyes. A moment later, it wasn’t water that was sliding down my back and arms but his hands, those long, tapered fingers grazing over my sensitive skin as he washed my body and lightly massaged my muscles.
By the time I got out of the shower, I imagined being back in his arms as he carried me to the bed. In my bedroom, I dropped my towel on the bed and stood in front of my mirror, as I brushed my long hair out and checked out my body; it was nice and firm. My breasts were high and perky, my nipples extended in the cooler air of the bedroom. A flash off to my left caught my attention and I turned.
I couldn’t see much, but what I could see caused me to drop to my knees out of sight. Standing outside in their backyard was Thad and a little boy. The backyard lamp had given off just enough illumination to show their outlines, and they had been faced directly towards my room.
“Oh…my…god,” I groaned as I crawled over to the door. I reached up as quickly as I could and flipped the light switch to throw the room into darkness. I leaned back against the door, still completely nude, and covered my hot face with my hands.
How the hell was I going to face that man now?
