3
The Keon Cleanse lasted eleven days.
It would have lasted longer if the ceiling at Margin Notes hadn’t started leaking directly over the romance section.
The first drop landed on a paperback titled Forever Yours.
The universe loved irony.
By the time I arrived, Jessa had placed three buckets between the shelves while our part-time employee, Marnelle, moved books to a dry table.
Rain hammered the windows. Thunder shook the old building.
I stared at the growing brown stain on the ceiling.
“Please tell me this is a decorative water feature.”
Jessa pushed damp curls away from her face. “The roofing company isn’t answering.”
“My insurance has an emergency contractor.”
“Call them.”
I opened the claim app and selected the emergency assistance option.
Twenty minutes later, a white work truck stopped outside.
The logo on the side read:
MADDOX RESTORATION
I closed my eyes.
Jessa came to stand beside me. “God is messy.”
“This is a city with four hundred thousand people.”
“Apparently, only one owns a ladder.”
Keon climbed out of the truck wearing work boots, dark jeans, and a gray company T-shirt stretched across his chest. Rain glistened on his arms.
Tavron stepped out of the passenger side.
Jessa’s attention shifted immediately.
Tavron was tall, golden-brown, and built leaner than Keon. He had shoulder-length twists, a trimmed beard, and a playful smile that had gotten him forgiven for several things he probably deserved consequences for.
“Do not start,” I warned Jessa.
“I didn’t say anything.”
“Your eyebrows did.”
Keon entered the store carrying a toolbox.
His gaze found mine before he looked at the ceiling.
“Page.”
“Maddox Restoration.”
His mouth almost smiled. “That’s what the shirt says.”
“I can read. I sell books.”
Tavron shook rain from his jacket. “Good morning, everybody.”
Jessa smiled at him. “Good morning.”
Her voice had changed.
I turned toward her. “Why do you sound like a phone operator?”
“Professionalism.”
Keon walked beneath the damaged section. “How long has it been leaking?”
“Twenty minutes.”
“Did anybody go upstairs?”
“The roof access is locked.”
He held out his hand. “Key.”
I pulled the ring from my purse and dropped it into his palm without touching him.
His eyes lowered to my hand.
It was ridiculous that I noticed.
His fingers had traveled over every inch of me. Eleven days without touching him should have erased nothing, yet the distance between our hands felt louder than the storm.
Keon looked at Tavron. “Bring the tarp and moisture meter.”
Tavron nodded, then glanced at Jessa. “You mind showing me where the electrical panel is?”
“I would love to.”
I grabbed her arm as she passed.
“Love?”
She whispered, “Professional love.”
Then she disappeared into the back with Tavron.
Keon unfolded a ladder.
“You could’ve refused the assignment,” I said.
“You needed help.”
“I needed a contractor.”
“You got one.”
“You also came with emotional complications.”
“Insurance doesn’t cover those.”
I folded my arms. “Clearly.”
He looked at me for several seconds.
The joking faded from his expression.
“I miss you.”
My chest tightened.
“That sounds uncomfortable.”
“It is.”
“You should hydrate.”
“Page.”
“What happened to your belief that titles don’t matter?”
“I haven’t changed my mind about everything in eleven days.”
“Then you miss access to me.”
His jaw flexed. “I miss hearing you laugh. I miss you calling me when something good happens. I miss the way you steal my fries after ordering a salad.”
“I order fries too.”
“You still eat mine.”
“Yours taste better.”
“I miss that.”
I turned away from him.
Rain streaked the front windows, making the city outside look blurred and soft.
“You missing me doesn’t solve our problem.”
“I know.”
“Do you?”
“Yes.”
He climbed the ladder and examined the ceiling.
For the next hour, Keon and Tavron worked quickly. They found a section of roofing material that had peeled away during the storm. Tavron secured a tarp outside while Keon removed damaged ceiling tiles and placed equipment beneath the leak.
I stayed near the register pretending I wasn’t watching his arms flex whenever he reached above his head.
Lust had no loyalty to good judgment.
When Keon climbed down, he wiped his hands on a towel.
“I can make the permanent repairs tomorrow morning.”
“Send the estimate to the insurance company.”
“I will.”
“You can leave the key with Jessa.”
His eyes narrowed slightly. “You still blocked me.”
“That was intentional.”
“What happens if there’s another emergency?”
“You’ll receive the assignment through proper channels.”
“You removed me from the building’s security system.”
“Also intentional.”
“You changed the code to your apartment.”
“Very intentional.”
His mouth twitched.
“You think this is funny?” I asked.
“No.” He placed his tools into the box. “I think you’re beautiful when you’re mad.”
I hated that my face warmed.
“Compliments are not a skeleton key.”
“I know.”
Tavron and Jessa returned from the back room looking entirely too comfortable.
Tavron glanced between Keon and me. “We ready?”
“We’re ready,” I said.
Keon lifted the toolbox.
At the door, he stopped.
“I’m going to respect what you asked for,” he said. “I still hope you’ll let me talk to you.”
I met his eyes.
“I listened to you for almost a year.”
He nodded once.
Then he walked into the rain.
Jessa watched the truck pull away.
“That man looked wounded.”
“He’ll recover.”
“Will you?”
I picked up a damp romance novel.
“That depends on whether the insurance company reimburses retail price.”