Chapter 11
Vic stood by the front door, porch light on, waiting. She hadn’t been lying when she’d told Cal that Audra took a sleeping aid, but she didn’t want to take any chances. When she heard his heavy tread on the stairs, she opened the door before he could knock or ring the bell.
His eyebrows rose and he stepped back as if startled by her abrupt appearance, then nodded a greeting.
“Hello,” she replied. “Thanks so much for coming out on a Friday night. I’m sorry if I pulled you away from your family, or plans, or whatever.”
Cal surprised her by chuckling. “Nothing on my end on either of those fronts, so no worries there.” He gave a wry smile, and Vic noted with chagrin that the lips curving above his beard were lovely and full.
Very kissable, Shoulder Devil observed.
Are you freaking kidding me right now? Shoulder Angel countered.
“Shall I take a look then?”
Vic gave herself a hard mental shake. “Of course.” She stepped back to give Cal access to the house. As he brushed past her, a soft, slightly medicinal scent of Eucalyptus, mint, and lemongrass wafted after him.
“Mmm, you smell like a spa,” Vic said before she thought better of it.
Cal paused midway through pulling off his jacket, one arm free, one still deep in its sleeve. “Well, I guess that’s better than smelling like ham, pineapple, banana peppers, and onions.”
Vic smiled. “Wow, that’s very specific, but I guess it depends.”
“On?”
“On what you had for dinner. I love spa scents, but I’d kill for a pizza right now.”
Cal laughed and his gaze skimmed her body. “See, I would’ve pegged you for spa, but not necessarily for pizza.” Vic swore his cheeks above his beard turned pink. “I mean—or, I don’t mean—I’m sorry. I wasn’t—”
Vic held up her hand. “This body is by starvation. I’ve been eating my own cooking too long.”
Cal patted his thick stomach. “Me too, though mine’s the opposite problem, obviously.”
Vic liked his weight. Thought it looked good on him. Thought—
The primary problem with you, Victoria, is that you’re boy crazy.
How many years had she heard that? And then later, with equal or even more derision: You’re always waiting for some man to save you.
I don’t disagree with you, Audra. I don’t disagree with you at all.
Cal was talking again, and Vic abandoned the voices in her head with relief.
“If you were serious about liking pizza,” he was saying.
He’s going to ask you out! Devil said.
Oh, no, moaned Angel. Do not say yes. Do not—
“Evie B’s is a new pizza place in town. I highly recommend their takeout.”
Oh. Vic didn’t know why she was so disappointed.
It would be beyond bizarre for a man she’d hired to fix her toilet to ask her for a date—and possibly even borderline inappropriate.
Also, she wasn’t dating anymore. She had enough problems. She couldn’t see anyone without being pathological and she’d learned her lesson finally.
She felt suddenly, profoundly, inexplicably lonely.
“Hey,” Cal said, and Vic realized—with horror—that he was studying her with concern. “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine.” She immediately felt bad for snapping. “Sorry, I mean . . . yes, I’m fine. Thank you, though.”
“Okay, well, I’ll get to it then.”
She nodded. “I’ll just . . . read my book, I guess, in the living room?”
“Sounds good.”
“Let me know if you need help or anything.”
He looked amused by the idea but nodded. “Sure thing. Thanks.”
Except he didn’t move toward the bathroom, and she didn’t carry herself down the hall.
“Or, maybe . . . I could help you?” she asked hopefully.
Cal’s head tilted to one side, considering her offer like he’d never heard of such a thing before. “Maybe,” he said doubtfully.
“Or we could just talk.” Damn, she hadn’t meant to sound so wistful. And maybe that would be annoying and inefficient. She’d just be in the way—
“That’d be . . . nice.” He sounded surprised, but Vic would take it. She needed to talk to someone other than her mother, for obvious reasons, and other than Madeline, who, though kind not to focus on it, must only see her as a thief.
Vic perched on the edge of the tub as Cal fiddled with something on the wall behind the toilet, then flushed the toilet.
More water crept from the broken seal. Vic hopped up, got more towels without being asked, and noted that the toilet bowl was almost empty now and not refilling.
Ah! The thing he’d been twisting behind the toilet must’ve been the water shut-off valve.
Cal nodded his thanks and lumbered to his feet. “Any chance you have a wet-dry vac?”
“I don’t think so. Sorry.”
“No worries. I’ve got one in the van.”
He was back in a flash and suctioning out the remaining water from the tank and bowl.
“Am I in your way?” Vic asked as he lifted the porcelain tank that he’d disconnected from the bowl and inched past her to place it on the floor.
“Not all.”
Vic watched him work, soothed by the straightforwardness of each step.
“Sorry, guess I’m not that much of a conversationalist when I’m working.”
“That’s okay. I’m enjoying myself.”
Cal let out a snort of laughter. He’d been squatting, meticulously cleaning the area where the old seal had been. He stopped mid-scrub and shot a yeah-right look over his shoulder at her. His very brawny shoulder.
“I’m serious. And it’s not just the view.”
He laughed.
“There’s something very, I don’t know, satisfying or calming about watching someone do something well.
It almost doesn’t matter what it is. Work done carefully or masterfully is fascinating.
Or it is to me.” Her cheeks grew warm. Why was he looking at her that way?
“Sorry—was that a totally bizarre thing to say out loud? I’m weird, I know. ”
Abandoning his cleaning for the moment, Cal shifted from squatting and sat on the floor in front of her.
For a big man, he was very flexible. She thought he maybe needed a rest, but instead, he studied her for a long moment.
“Not bizarre. Or weird. Or not to me anyway. I totally feel the same. I’ve just never heard anyone else articulate it before. ”
Their eyes met and they smiled at each other, him looking as shy as she felt.
“And ham, pineapple, banana peppers, and onion pizza appeals to you,” he said, shaking his head, just when the silence might’ve gotten awkward.
Vic laughed. “All pizza appeals to me.”
The rest of the job went smoothly and quickly, and by the time it was done, they’d come to an arrangement. Cal would go through the house and make a prioritized list of repairs, so that at least things wouldn’t keep getting worse.
“Then as the two of you can afford, I’ll tackle each task,” he said.
Vic thought it was gracious of him to be willing to work on a prioritized need-and-ability-to-pay schedule rather than demanding money up front.
Still, she decided not to tell him that the money for repairs wouldn’t be an issue.
She had her savings, and Audra, as the only living heir of a man who’d owned a logging company back in the days when logging companies made folks rich, was quite well to do.
The family home, or so she understood, was the smallest part of Audra’s wealth.
For all their problems, money wasn’t one of them.
She didn’t think Cal seemed like the kind of man who’d take advantage of a couple of women, but then again, those types never did at first.
“It’s been a long time since the house had any maintenance,” she said when the silence stretched again.
Cal brushed away the comment. “It’s not in terrible shape, not by a long shot. It has great bones and was built when they did things to last. I think you’ll be happily surprised by how a little elbow grease has big results.”
Vic nodded, thinking she was already happily surprised. Who knew hunky handyman might be . . . a friend.
“Thanks again,” she said, trailing him to the door after the last of his toolboxes and his shop vac were out in the van. “And I promise you can do your walk-through and various jobs during daylight hours. I won’t rob you another Friday night.”
Cal rubbed his beard thoughtfully and under the porch light, his blue eyes glinted a little. “I kinda enjoyed the late night. And it was . . . quieter.”
Vic pressed her lips together to keep a huge grin from splitting her face. “It was . . . yes. So, let’s just say I’m happy for you to work here whenever it fits your schedule best.”
“We’ve got a deal. I’ll call you this week to set up a time to look around.”
He headed to his van, then turned slightly toward her when he reached the driver’s side. She waved and he waved back.
Once he’d driven away, Vic sank to her butt on the porch, despite the cold, smiling like a loon.
Devil started to mumble, but for once, Vic stopped the internal back-and-forth before it got carried away.
She would be careful. She, of all people, knew what a hot mess she was.
She wouldn’t inflict herself on a nice person like Cal.
But she could have a friend. Lord knows she needed one—and she was 99.
9 percent certain, shocked as she was to think it, that Cal needed one too.