Chapter 6
Chapter Six
EMILY
Baylor stands in front of me, looking and smelling perfect.
He looks like the boy next door with his dirty ball cap pulled down, his dirty jeans, and a T-shirt that’s seen better days.
It’s his boots that get me, though. They’ve been worn and worn well.
They’re ready to be replaced but probably fit like a glove now.
He’s perfect, his beard a little thicker than a year ago.
Longer too. I bite my bottom lip as I wait for him to turn around and walk away.
He really should. Because I’ve got a mess on my hands, and he doesn’t want to be involved, but he would help me out of duty.
It’s how he was raised, how most of the men around here were raised.
“I’m good,” I lie.
His lips twitch into a smirk. “Darlin’, you are not good. Tell me what’s up.”
Inhaling a deep breath, I hold it for a moment before I exhale slowly. He moves farther down the aisle. Closer to me. My heart races harder and faster with each step he takes. Then he stops when he’s so close that he’s practically touching me.
My breath hitches. I don’t know what to do or where to go. I want to close the short distance between us so I can feel his chest against mine, but I decide that I shouldn’t do that in the middle of the hardware store.
So I stay where I am, trying to breathe but not doing a very good job of it, considering I feel a bit lightheaded.
“I just…”
My words escape me. Slipping my tongue out, I wet my bottom lip as I try to think of how to explain my issue without sounding like a complete idiot. I fear I fail at this.
“I need to replace my bathroom faucet. I don’t know how, and these are more expensive than I thought they would be.”
He stares at me for a moment in silence. Then he blinks a couple of times before he says, “I’m here about water issues, too. You had anyone out to look at it?”
I press my lips together, nodding a couple of times before I let out another heavy sigh.
“I had a plumber out three times, and each time, they said they’d try to fix it, but it’s just old and leaky.
They said it would need to be replaced. And I thought it might be cheaper to just replace it myself. ”
He opens his mouth, starting to say something, but I take a step backward. Baylor reaches out and wraps his fingers around my wrist, holding on to me so I can’t run off. I stop reluctantly.
“Which one do you need?” he demands.
“It’s a single one with the handles attached, not separate. But Baylor, I can’t afford any of these.” I lift my hand, waving it around.
When he tugs me forward, my body falls toward him. Lifting my other hand, the one he isn’t holding, I press my fingers against the center of his chest, tipping my head back so I can look up into his eyes.
God.
I could get lost in those eyes.
Those golden eyes.
They own me.
I need to leave.
Now.
Wriggling away from his grasp, I turn around and rush out of the store. My leaky bathroom faucet will have to wait until another day. I make a mental note to look up how to completely shut off the water for that faucet.
Maybe I can just shower in there and brush my teeth and wash my hands in the kitchen until I can afford a plumber again…
and a faucet. Sure, that’ll work. It will have to, because I can’t afford a plumber or a faucet, and I won’t ask Baylor Cooper—who hasn’t even looked at me in a year—to help me either.
Nope. Nope. Nope.
Day two of no bathroom sink.
This sucks.
I stand at the kitchen sink, washing my hands and wondering when I’ll be able to save enough to pay for a faucet and a plumber. I had a little money in savings a few months ago, but had to use it on a plumber. In fact, every time I get a little saved, it seems that’s what I end up using it on.
Today is my day off from the bar, and I’ve decided I’m going to need to look for a part-time job. I am desperate and won’t be able to keep living like this. I’m not making enough for my basic needs, and I sure as hell can’t save anything.
My place is a dump, and I get a discount on the rent by doing any necessary repairs. Which sounded like a great setup until things started needing replacement. And now I think that I would be saving more money if I hadn’t agreed to this deal. Especially in plumbing bills.
A knock on the door causes my spine to straighten. All I can think about is my mother. I haven’t seen her in six months, but that’s about her track record.
She comes around every three to six months, which usually happens when she’s been dumped by some guy, begs to stay at my place, kicks me out of my own bed, and then leaves when she’s got another live one on her hook.
But not before eating my food, taking my money, and making a complete mess out of my place. She usually riffles through all of my drawers and steals what she thinks she can make a little fast cash from in the process.
Carefully, quietly, I inch toward the door. The person on the other side knocks again, and I try not to make any noise as I approach the peephole. Closing one eye, I look through the hole, and my breath catches.
I’m met with a wall of chest, wearing a pearl-snap button western-style shirt. The person on the other side of the door is very decidedly not my mother. And as my eye moves upward, I see that the person is wearing a straw cowboy hat.
I’ve waited for a whole year for this man to appear at my door, standing in this exact spot on my porch. But now that he’s here, I don’t think I want him to be. I wrap my fingers around my doorknob, sucking in my breath and trying to figure out how I’m going to get out of this, when he speaks.
“I know you’re there, Em. Open up.”
God.
Em. How freaking hot is that?
Taking a step backward, I open the door even though I don’t know if it’s a very good idea. Tipping my head back slightly, I look up into his eyes. My heart slams against my rib cage. He’s so damn pretty. His dark beard, his golden eyes.
I’m such a stupid girl.
I should never have played games. I should never have started rumors or pretended to be something I wasn’t. I should have been myself, because maybe if I had, whatever this pull I feel with him, it maybe could have turned into something beautiful.
“Hey,” I force myself to call out.
Plastering on a smile, I tilt my head to the side and rest it against the door. I cross my ankles over one another and give him my flirtiest smile. “What are you doing here, cowboy?” I ask
His lip twitches, and I watch as he lifts up a plastic bag that’s dangling in his fingers. “Someone call a plumber?”
I start to tell him that I didn’t, but the offer is far too tempting. Plus, I really want him in my apartment… like, really. I could be happy after an afternoon with him in my home, with the memories of him moving around my space.
“What happens if I say no?” I ask.
“I break in in the middle of the night when you’re asleep, and I wake you up by fixing your pipes.”
My lips curve up into an even bigger smile at his double entendre. “What if I like the sound of that a little too much?” I purr.
I shouldn’t have said that. I know I shouldn’t, but the words just came out. I can’t drop the act, especially when I’m nervous. When I’m uncomfortable. And this is not just an uncomfortable moment, but I’m still nervous as hell on top of it all.