Chapter 8
Chapter Eight
BAYLOR
As I work, I think about earlier. I was drying out the kitchen flooring at my place, then pulled it completely out before I took out the subflooring. The entire time, I couldn’t stop thinking about her—about Emily and the way she looked at me.
She was distraught.
But also desperate.
There’s only one plumber in town, and this morning, I called him and asked him how much she’d spent on that fucking bathroom faucet. As I begin to pull her sink apart, I think about my conversation with Bud.
The real reason I decided to come out here was because of what he said, which pushed me to follow my gut instinct.
“Probably shouldn’t tell you,” Bud muttered.
I didn’t even have to think about what to do after he told me. It was clear. She’s spent over five hundred bucks to limp this shit along. She could have replaced it to begin with and saved herself at least three hundred dollars.
I don’t know why he did her like that. I made a note to never fucking use Bud in the future as I jumped in the truck and headed straight for the hardware store to buy Emily a faucet.
Now I’m on my knees in her apartment, in her bathroom, having eaten fancy French cheese and wondering why I didn’t send one of my brothers here to do this job. I don’t think I’ll be able to resist her. I want her too damn badly. Being this close to her is going to seriously fuck me up.
Opening the sink cabinet, I smirk at the sight of all her shit stacked up. “Oh my gosh, let me clean that all out first,” she practically whimpers.
I straighten the expression on my mouth, mainly because I don’t want her to think I’m laughing at her when I’m not. I think it’s cute as fuck, is what I think. Turning my head, I look up at her.
“It’s all good, Em.”
I shift my attention back to the sink and begin moving the items out, stacking them behind me against the wall. I don’t even look at what they are, but I can tell she’s embarrassed, moving from foot to foot.
“Em,” I call out, shifting my attention over to her. “Don’t give a fuck about what’s in here. I know you’re a woman.”
She doesn’t say anything. Instead, she sinks her teeth into her bottom lip, worrying the skin there before she releases it. I go back to my work. I feel her watching me for a moment, then she slips away, and I can’t help but chuckle.
What feels like just a few moments later, I hear her feet padding against the floor as she makes her way to the bathroom again. “I got you a glass of lemonade. I made it fresh this morning,” she calls out.
My eyes widen in surprise, but she doesn’t see it.
She’s making it really fucking hard to not only play it cool but also stay away from her.
I’m about ready to fuck her against this sink, and I already know if I do, there is no way I’m going to be able to walk away from her again. My resolve is just not that strong.
Sitting up, I look at her. She’s got a glass of lemonade with ice in it and a fucking straw, of all things. This woman is beyond goddamn adorable. Reaching out, I wrap my fingers around the cool glass, brushing hers when I do, which sends a bolt of electricity straight to my fucking dick.
I take the straw out and set it on the edge of the sink, then lift the glass to my lips and take a drink. Fuck me, that shit is good. I’m not sure how in the hell she made this, but it’s damn good.
“That’s amazing,” I murmur.
She smiles, her cheeks tinting pink at my compliment. “Okay, I’ve fed you and watered you. I’m going to leave you alone. Just holler if you need anything from me.”
“Will do, Em.”
She spins around and walks away. I don’t turn back to my task immediately. Instead, I take the moment to watch her. Fucking hell, Emily Brown has a body that just won’t fucking quit, and I don’t think I ever want it to.
EMILY
I can’t believe he’s here and he’s fixing my sink. I don’t think he should, and I don’t know how I’m going to pay him back. I literally have nothing in my bank account. I should have asked for an extra shift tonight, but I was going to attempt to find a second job.
But here I am, breathing heavily, hoping like hell that I can figure out how to pay my bills by Friday, but also so damn excited to have Baylor close to me. It’s worth being broke for another couple of days… or weeks.
I don’t know what to do. He’s in my bathroom, and he touched my box of tampons. I can’t believe this is real life. I’m embarrassed to be in this apartment after that, or anywhere near him, but here I am.
Now I don’t know what to do.
What feels like just a few moments later, there’s a noise from the bathroom. It’s Baylor cursing, and my lips curve up into a smile.
“You fucking bitch,” he grinds out. “Take that, cunt,” he hisses.
My eyes widen. I don’t think I’ve ever heard him talk like that before. I feel like this should be a private moment between him and my faucet, but since I’m really damn nosy, I walk toward the bathroom.
Leaning against the doorjamb, I watch him cuss out the plumbing like it’s his job. I’m not sure when he realizes I’m there, but he slowly turns his head, and his eyes find mine. I watch as his cheeks turn pink.
“I was having a difficult time taking the old faucet off, but it’s all good now,” he murmurs.
My lips curve up into a grin as I lift my hand, twirling my finger around as I speak. “I just wanted to make sure you weren’t getting pissed at another woman in my bathroom.”
He chuckles. “Nope,” he states, popping the P. “Just your fuckin’ faucet. But I got it off. I should be done in about twenty minutes.”
Twenty minutes. That sucks. I want him to stay longer—like forever. I can’t say that, though, and I can’t figure out how to make him stay, either. Pressing my lips together, I let out a soft sigh.
“You sure? I feel bad with you working in here while I’m doing nothing.”
“Just stand there and look pretty, Em.”
My knees tremble at his words. I wish he meant that. I’m not sure he does, but I wish like hell he did. I don’t move, my lips staying curved up into a smile, unsure of what to say or do, so I just watch him.
Baylor gives me a wink, then turns back to the sink. “When did you move in here?” he asks.
“A few years ago, but I think I got a raw deal,” I say, then I explain the situation with my landlord and the rent deal for taking care of maintenance.
“I would say so, but I’ve got the same kind of shit going on, so I can’t really say anything about it.”
“You do?” I’m on edge, completely and totally intently listening to him.
Pressing my lips together, I snap my brows together. “I thought you lived on the Cooper ranch?”
He shifts his gaze to meet mine, winks, then goes back to his work. “Yeah, I did until we bought the Ackermans’ property. Now I’m fixing up the house with my brothers, and it’s more of an undertaking than I thought. They haven’t updated a thing since 1975, I swear.”
The idea of living at the Ackermans’ property or any property is beyond anything I could ever imagine. But I do imagine it, even if just for a moment. I allow myself to dream. And when I do, I let out a heavy sigh before I shake my head and bring myself back to reality.
I’ll never live anywhere like that, so I’d better get used to it and stop living with my head in the clouds. I’ll never be a Cooper. I’ll never have anything. It’s time I accept that and try to better myself instead of looking for someone to better me.
Because there’s nobody in my corner… but me.