Chapter 6
CHAPTER SIX
MACKENZIE
“Mom, that guy is here,” Liam’s voice rings through the house.
My body tenses but feels at odds with the adrenaline coursing through my veins. Nate actually showed.
“I’ll be right there,” I holler as my gaze quickly sweeps the bathroom for anything out of place before rushing to the living room. I had half-expected Nate not to show up. Call me cynical, but I’m still gun-shy from all the times Ethan promised to fix something but never did. I understood to a point as to why. With him constantly gone, the household tasks fell on me. But occasionally, it would’ve been nice to receive help. Or at least for him to follow through with his promises.
I’m unsure how to feel about a man showing up to help.
Rubbing my hands along my pants, I take a deep breath and try to compose myself. But my heart pounds in my ears, and my tongue feels like sandpaper as I wet my dry lips. A glass of water would be nice right now. Anything to relieve this sudden anxiety.
Why am I even entertaining the idea of comparing the two? Nate isn’t Ethan. And he’s only here to fix a toilet. That’s all. Nothing else. This isn’t anything other than a stranger who felt the need to help .
But he showed.
When I reach the door and swing it open, all sensibility flies out the window. Because holy hell, the man in front of me is fine-looking. He stands tall with his back turned towards me and hands in the pockets of his worn-out jeans. The afternoon light filters through the trees, outlining every inch of him. And suddenly, I feel foolish for doubting him.
Nate turns around and graces me with a warm smile. “Heard you’re having plumbing issues.”
I can’t help but smile back. “You could say that.”
“I’ve brought the tools to fix that.” He reaches for the bucket by his feet as I quirk an eyebrow.
“You thought of everything, huh?”
He shrugs. “Like to be prepared.”
“Well, come on then, Mr. Fix It.” I turn to have him follow. “Who am I to turn down free help?”
“I distinctly remember you trying.” Nate quickly reminds me, but I wave him off as he shuts the door and continues to the hallway.
“As a single mother, I’m used to doing things on my own.” Which is true. However, my skills fall short when it comes to pipes and valves. “But I know my limits and when to cave.”
A beat of silence passes as we come to a halt in front of the bathroom. Nate’s arm brushes against mine. That, along with his tall presence beside me, awakens a need deep in my core. It’s as if the air became electrified as he stares down at me. His clean scent, a fresh citrusy blend of lemon and lime, wafts around us, threatening to pull me in deeper. I dare to look up at those rich, domineering eyes.
He sucks in a breath, but his expression remains stoic. “You can’t be too cautious with who you let in.”
I wasn’t sure how to take that. Did he mean inside my house or my heart? Either one applies, though the latter one shouldn’t.
“No. I can’t.” My voice comes out almost as a whisper. I could really use that water right about now. Or maybe something stronger .
I shake off the jitters this man causes and lift the corner of my mouth into a smirk. “But the gossip birds pegged you as difficult, so that’s all the excuse I need to take up your offer.”
His mouth twitches. “Difficult, huh?”
“Not overly friendly, to be exact.”
He grunts. “That about sums it up.”
I shake my head. I get the feeling this admission does not shake him. “Well, I’ll let you get to it.”
“Shouldn’t take me too long.”
“I’ll try to keep the kids away.”
He waves me off. “That’s unnecessary. They won’t be a problem.”
I stare at him momentarily, speechless, before nodding and stepping away. I try to make myself busy, but face it. I can’t concentrate on anything as that mysterious man works in the bathroom.
Twenty minutes later, Nick’s pleading eyes stare up at me as he waffles from foot to foot, concern growing with each passing moment. “Mom, I have to pee.”
I glance over at the only toilet in the house and wince. The lid lies off to the side on the floor, flanked by some black bulb thing. Nate is elbow-deep in the tank. He glances over his shoulder at me and takes in Nick’s desperation.
“He can still go. We just won’t be able to flush,” Nate says.
“No, he can go outside.”
“Mommy, I can’t go out there. The neighbors will see.”
“It’s okay, Nick, I’ve gone outside plenty of times.”
My mouth tightens at Liam’s confession. I notice Nate stifling a laugh. Smart man.
“It’s one perk of being a guy, buddy,” Nate says.
I roll my eyes, but really, Nate has a point. The advantage guys have at relieving themselves practically anywhere isn’t fair. It’s been a sore talking point since our senior year when we snuck away drinking. My boyfriend never had to worry about finding a workable bathroom. I, on the other hand, was not as fortunate. I’d end up hanging off the bumper, trying not to piss on my shoes.
“Okay, but let’s not make this a habit.” I give Liam a stern look. “One time won’t hurt.”
I shuffle Nick out the door and find a secure, private place between two pine trees. I try not to think about the guy inside working on my plumbing, but he has a presence about him I can’t seem to shake. I know it’s wrong. He’s older than me. But by how much, I don’t know. I can tell by the way he conducts himself. The mature way he handles situations drives me to believe he’s pushing forty. Even I have to admit his ripped pecs and bulging biceps don’t reflect his age. Those sculpted abs are every bit as delicious as a younger man’s. But it’s more than his appearance that sends me to Lustville. It’s the way he goes out of his way to help. Behind that brooding guy lies a gentle bear. I snort at the cliché thought, but it’s true.
We come in from the outside, and voices carry down the hall. Nick runs toward them, but I hang back to eavesdrop on Liam.
“But why do you have to do that?” my sweet, curious boy asks.
I prepare for the irritated sigh and glib answer, but it never comes. Instead, Nate feeds into Liam’s curiosity by fully explaining how fill valves and plungers work. Liam enjoys learning. Whenever Ethan was around, Liam would drill him with questions every chance. But unlike Nate, Liam’s curiosity drove Ethan crazy. Patience wasn’t his best virtue, and he never took the time to explain anything. We lived off base, and our rented house had a postage stamp-sized yard. The mower blades had needed sharpening. A chore Ethan hated doing. Liam asked him so many questions that day.
“How can you tell when the blades need sharpening?”
“Why do you need eye goggles?”
“Why are you putting the blade in a vice?”
“What’s an angle grinder?”
By the time Ethan was ready to align the grinder to the blade, he had blown up and sent Liam inside. My heart broke for the kid because he only wanted to learn. Ethan’s patience always ran thin .
I blink away the memory and march toward the bathroom. “Okay, kiddos, leave Mr. Dixon alone. Don’t you have some chores to do before we head to the park?” I’m met with a couple disgruntled, “Yes, ma’am” responses.
Those honey-rich eyes flash toward mine, but he doesn’t speak until the kids leave. “They weren’t bothering me.”
I study him for a moment. Did he purposely wait until the kids were out of earshot so as not to undermine my authority? If so, I’m not sure how to process his gesture. I blink the notion away. I’m sure I’m reading too much into his statement. “They can get a little overbearing.”
He shrugs. “They’re just curious, that’s all. Liam’s pretty inquisitive.”
My head swims as I blow out a slow, steady breath. Nate is making it very hard not to like him without even trying. But I can’t like him. Not in the way my body reacts to him. How can I know all of this and still be attracted to him?
“I’ll be done in a minute. I just have to cut the standpipe. It sits higher than the fill valve.” He grabs the hacksaw, and I stand there, watching his biceps flex while he moves the saw back and forth.
A beat later, I feel a little stalkerish and march toward the living room. But damn, that man’s impressive. Looks aside, not only did he fix the toilet, but he brought his own tools. Nice, shiny, bright ones that look brand new. Did he buy them specifically for this job? No. That makes little sense. He wouldn’t have purchased new tools for me.
I’m in the middle of chastising myself for such thoughts when a curse word followed by a clang cuts through the air. I rush to the bathroom, not knowing what to expect. Nate opens and closes his left hand a few times before grabbing the saw, but the slight tremor in his hands is evident.
“Are you sure your hands are good?”
Nate’s body stills as his gaze cuts to mine and holds, the light shades of golden brown darken. Holy fuck, that smoldering look causes my synapses to misfire. I blink a few times, unable to formulate a coherent thought. A cross between a gasp and moan escapes my mouth as my nipples harden. Jesus, who knew watching him play with a toilet could be sexy.
“Trust me. My hands are very skilled.” His deep, raspy voice glides over my skin and wraps around me like a warm, cozy blanket. But it’s the words very skilled that have my inner thighs clenching.
I swallow the carnal thoughts clouding my mind and utter an, “Oh.”
The slightest grin crosses his face as his usual hardened features soften, and for that brief moment, I glimpse a more relaxed version of Nate. It’s boyish and carefree—a side I like. One I could get used to.
We stay this way, holding each other captive, neither one wanting to make the first move. My heart pounds as my mind races to determine the secret meaning behind his words. I’m sure my imagination is getting carried away. A lonely, desperate woman seeking more meaning in frivolous things. He severs the connection almost as if he’s solidifying my thought. I take a stuttering breath as he grabs the saw, silence eating up the air in this small space as he makes the last cut.
“There, you should be back in business.” He flips the valve to turn the water back on and tests his handiwork. After the toilet flushes without any leaks, he gathers his tools and sits back on his haunches. “Does anything else need fixing besides the kitchen faucet?”
Part of me wants to say everything, but he can’t provide the help I need. I won’t delve into my problems and shake my head slightly. “Nothing pressing.”
He stands. “Alright then, I’ll tackle that faucet.”
“The kitchen is down the hall to the right.” I’m not sure why I told him. The house isn’t that big.
“The handle’s loose,” he says, turning the door handle.
“Yeah, I meant to tighten it.” Our eyes divert to my bedroom, where moving boxes stay piled—another chore I’ve yet to tackle. Most packages contain Ethan’s belongings. I can’t force myself to sort through them. It was hard enough packing it all. “Among other things.”
“Grab me a Phillips screwdriver, and I’ll work on this next. The last thing you want is one of the boys to get stuck inside.”
“You don’t have to fix that. I’m quite capable of turning a screwdriver.”
“I have no doubt you’re qualified, but I’m here now. I have time.”
With no further protest, I get him the screwdriver. After tightening the knob, he follows me to the kitchen, where he proceeds to fix the faucet. I don’t bother him and opt to see how the kids are progressing with cleaning their room. Thirty minutes later, I wander back into the kitchen and stop mid-step. Nate lies on his back with his upper torso hidden underneath the kitchen sink. His shirt rides up, teasing me with a glimpse of his happy trail that leads to his nether regions. Oh, how I’d love to trace my fingers along that path. Or better yet, trace it with my tongue. But as soon as I process the thought, guilt grabs hold and refuses to let go. What is wrong with me? I blame the lack of sex as the force driving my libido. Regardless of the reason, it isn’t fair for me to think about anyone else but my late husband. Doesn’t that make me an awful person? The state of our marital status shouldn’t matter. It’s wrong. He was still my husband, and now, my kids are fatherless.
I clear my throat. “Are you running into more problems?”
“Ah, no. I had to disconnect the faucet to replace some of the O-rings. Luckily, I bought the right size.”
I glance at the various packages lying on the ground. It looks like Nate bought several sizes. “You really are a ‘Mr. Fix It’ guy.”
He chuckles. “I come in handy at times.”
I bet you do.
“It will be nice having full use of the faucet.”
“One more crank, and I’m done.” He scoots out of the cabinet and flips to his stomach. He turns off the shutoff valves and stands to test the faucet—another success.
“I can’t thank you enough for helping. The Gallezes will be back soon. They’ll address some of the other issues and reimburse me for your payment.” I toss him a dishtowel after he washes his hands.
His reflexes are quick as he swipes the towel midair and dries his hands. “I don’t need to be paid.”
“I can’t ask you to do all of this without some reimbursement.”
“That’s not why I helped. Besides, it’s illegal to collect payment when I’m not a licensed plumber.” He winks.
Why are you so kind? I don’t ask the question burning inside me. Instead, I take the coward’s way out. “True, but I don’t like it.”
“I tell you what. It’s been a long time since I’ve had a home-cooked meal. You can owe me one.”
“That can be arranged.” I smile the first genuine smile I’ve felt in a long time. I can’t remember how long it has been since I’ve cooked for someone other than my boys. A tiny twinge pinches my stomach.
Nate’s gaze lands on the kitchen table where my nursing books lie. My body stiffens. I hate that defensiveness is my automatic response, but I can’t help it.
“You’re in nursing school?” The surprise in his tone isn’t mocking. It’s more curious than anything.
“I start next week, actually. I’m enrolled at Cessna University of San Francisco. They’re an extension from the main college in Los Angeles.”
“Yeah, I’m familiar.”
“It’s the closest college that fits my needs with its rolling admissions. Classes start soon, and the program lasts for two years.”
“Nursing’s a great career choice. What made you choose nursing?”
“It’s something I’ve always wanted to do. My plan had always been to become a nurse. ”
“What stopped you?”
It’s an innocent question but loaded with a heavy answer. “Life got in the way. Ethan and I got married young. Then, we had Liam. Since Ethan was gone a lot with his career, he never wanted me to work.”
Nate’s body stiffens as he nods. The relaxed demeanor from earlier dissipates like a faded memory. “I guess that’s understandable. As long as you agree.”
My lips flatten as I try to fight off the feelings that swell up. Arguing about my going back to school and getting my nursing degree had always been a sore spot in our marriage. But Ethan is dead. Rehashing things I can’t change is useless.
“I’m going now. That’s what counts.”
Nate eyes me for a second before nodding. A moment later, Liam comes in.
“Mom, is it safe to use the bathroom now?”
“Yes, you can thank Mr. Dixon for fixing it for us.”
Liam turns his steel-blue eyes toward Nate and cocks a half-smirk. When he makes that face, he looks so much like Ethan it hurts. “Thanks, Mr. Dixon.”
“You’re welcome.” Nate’s voice comes out half garbled. His face pales. It’s almost as if seeing Liam made him edgy. Perhaps I mistook his earlier encounter, and he’s not into kids? I shake my head. That can’t be right. He was so patient with him. It doesn’t matter if he’s into them or not. Nate’s likes or dislikes aren’t my concern.
Liam sprints down the hallway and dives into the bathroom. I let out a small chuckle and turn to Nate but stop laughing when I take in his posture. He stands ramrod straight, expressionless. It’s as if he’s turned to stone.
He glances at the pile of books and shifts his weight. “I need to go.”
“Thanks again for helping.”
“I’m glad I could help.” With those words, he gathers his tools and leaves abruptly .
What on earth happened?
We went from casual talking to me standing in his wake. Confusion and wariness flood my mind as I process how to feel. The broody, mysterious man is back. Trust me, Nate Dixon, by the time we’re through, I will figure you out.