High Maintenance

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High Maintenance Page 3

by Lia Fairchild


  “Yeah, and only one of you ingrates is here helping your pop.”

  Lexy found herself smiling at their adorable banter.

  “Then, I guess you better shape up if you want me to stick around.”

  “Oh you’ll stick around all right.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  A few beats hung in the air with no reply. She had the urge to peek around the corner and see what look Ray might be giving his son for an answer.

  “Don’t give me that look, old man.”

  “Hey, I came here for you and I’m staying here for you. It’s that simple.”

  “Okay. I guess that stupid dreamy look you get on your face when you see little Miss Fix it is just an added bonus.”

  Lexy blushed as she drew in a quick breath. She startled when she heard Tate get up from the bed and walk toward the door. She turned in a panic to leave. Forgetting which way was out, she spun back around and ran right into Tate. Flustered and embarrassed she couldn’t say a word.

  “Kitten, you’re back?” He walked past her like she hadn’t just overheard that, leaving a knot in her stomach. “Hold on a sec,” he said without turning around.

  Caught off guard by his presence and the nickname, she froze in place. Thirty seconds later he returned holding a glass bottle as he walked past her again.

  “Here,” he said when he walked back into Ray’s room.

  “A beer? This is how you take care of your old man?” Ray said, sounding more jovial than upset.

  “Yeah, actually. It will relax you… and it won’t kill you. When you’re done I want you to get some rest. I’m going to hang out here for a bit. Have a word with your little Miss Fix-It out there.”

  Lexy couldn’t stop the corners of her mouth from rising, but when Tate rounded the corner again she pulled her lips into a straight line.

  The apartment phone rang just as their eyes met. Tate shrugged as he pulled his attention away to answer it. Her patience was running thin.

  After three “yeps” and a “no problem,” Tate hung up, turned to Lexy, and said in a hushed tone, “Time to see what you’re made of.” He picked up Ray’s tool bag, slinging it over his shoulder. Then, he grabbed her wrist and led her out the door. Lexy followed without protest until they ended up in the courtyard just outside the laundry room.

  ***

  “Okay, what’s going on?”

  Heat from the blazing sun glared down on the couple. Tate swiped at the sweat that beaded at his brow. “Someone just called saying the washroom is flooded. I didn’t want my Dad to know.”

  Lexy cocked her head, adding a questioning stare. “And, I need to be here why?”

  Tate waited a beat. “Well, you’re the expert in this place. I thought you could give me a hand.”

  Feigned contemplation displayed on her face before Lexy let out a breath. “Ughh! Let’s go.” A swift shove of the ajar door swung it open wide enough for them to both pass through. But as Lexy turned to watch the downswing, she screeched and flinched. “No! The door!”

  “What?” he said, standing next to the closed door.

  “Shit, where’s the brick?” Lexy executed a 360-degree turn in the laundry room, passing her eyes across a puddle forming next to a washer. Great.

  A booming laugh exploded from Tate. “You realize what you just said, right?”

  She didn’t have time to determine whether his immature comment was endearing or annoying. “Shut up. The door. It’s supposed to be held open with a brick. Sometimes it locks from the inside.”

  Unaffected, Tate put his hand on the knob and said, “Shall we end the suspense now or wait until we leave and be surprised?”

  Lexy folded her arms in annoyance, though endearing just took the lead. At the thought of being trapped with Tate, a faint flutter in her stomach made its presence known.

  “All right.” Slowly Tate turned the handle. A click echoed in the still room just before he popped the door open with ease.

  Lexy breathed a sigh of relief, hoping to convince them both. “Yay.”

  Tate lifted both hands up in celebration, freeing the knob. “See, our lucky day.” Then, the door slammed shut.

  Had he read the disappointment on her face? Lexy hurried over to check the knob, confirming it was indeed locked this time. “You did that on purpose.” She slammed her fist into his swollen bicep, relishing the feel of it.

  “Seriously? Why would I do that?”

  “God!” Lexy went in for blow number two, when Tate’s fingers closed in on her wrist. His strength easily pulled her into him. Her breath caught. He waited for her to look up at him, meeting his intense stare.

  She only held his gaze for a moment before blurting out. “You know I’m engaged.” It was about time she laid down the law and acted like it.

  A light ignited in his eyes, seemingly having the opposite of her intended effect. “Wow, Kitten, you seriously are sure of yourself.”

  Lexy attempted to free her hand, but instead Tate flipped her wrist over, as if he knew what he’d find on her hand. Smiling, he began to read the words she’d scribbled there in black ink, “It’s a piece of—”

  Yanking her hand away, she cut him off. “I just want to make sure we’re clear.”

  “With that massive rock on your other hand, who’s not going to know?”

  Lexy stared, waiting for a different response.

  “Okay…I will admit I like you. Maybe more than I should. But I’m not about to move in on some other guy’s territory.”

  “Wow, really? Aside from making me sound like a piece of real estate, I guess I appreciate the thought. As long as we are on the same page.”

  “I don’t know about you, but I’m still on the table of contents.”

  “Seriously, stop.” She fought a grin.

  “Okay,” he breathed out. “Friends? I could use one, being new here.”

  “Friends.” She nodded.

  “Great. Can we get to work now?” He glanced around with confidence.

  “What about the door?”

  He pointed to the machine with the puddle in front of it. “Let’s fix the washer and clean up this mess first. I’m sure someone will come along before we need to ravage the year-old Snickers in that vending machine.”

  “You better hope so,” she said, holding back a grin.

  Lexy eagerly sped past a staggering Tate to face the offending appliance. She’d had her suspicions about his repair skills when he came to her apartment, and this reluctance didn’t counter that. “Come on,” she said anxiously, waving him over.

  Stopping in front of the washer, Tate looked from the open top to the wet floor and then back to the top again. He set the tool bag on the shelf next to them just as Lexy hopped up on the adjacent counter. She quickly surveyed behind the washer. “We should probably turn this valve off.” The natural instinct gave her a warm sensation of pride and nostalgia. Her dad had been patient with her in similar situations, relaying in detail everything he did and why. Many times he didn’t know the cause of a problem, but confidence drove him to uncover the source and a solution. That same confidence ran through Lexy. That made her smile.

  A silent Tate watched as she reached for the valve and began turning it with dogged vigor. After, she hopped down looking content.

  “Shit, you’re like one of those excitable little Chihuahuas, heart racing a million beats a minute, jumping right into action.”

  She wiped her hands on her pants. It hadn’t felt like an insult, except for the Chihuahua part. “Are you calling me a dog?”

  “I wouldn’t call you a dog, Kitten.”

  “What is it with you and the pet names?”

  “I dunno. I like animals…and adorable little creatures.” He smiled playfully, about to reach up to pat her on the head.

  She jerked away from his touch. “You’re pushing your luck, you know that? Now are you going to fix this thing or not?”

  Tate pulled his hands away and up as if to surrender. �
��All right, all right.” He kneeled down to examine the puddle like he was on an episode of CSI. “This thing’s leaking pretty damn good.”

  “Your powers of observation are nothing short of stellar. Anything else?”

  His eyes traveled up her legs and landed on her face. “Just give me a sec.”

  “Fine.” She shuffled over to a chair near the dryers where she sat as Tate stood and turned to the machine. She picked up a magazine and pretended to read it. “Let me know when you need me.” It was only a matter of time before her hunch was confirmed, but she hadn’t decided how she’d react. He deserved a little crap-talking for all his comments about her repair skills.

  In between glances at Lexy to see if she was watching, Tate hovered over the washer. After a moment, he stripped off his shirt and began shimmying the heavy metal box out of its space, creating piercing screeches which echoed off the ceiling. Lexy peeked from behind the magazine at his solid back and forearm muscles pulsing and straining. The already muggy atmosphere seemed to take on additional degrees. She ran the back of her hand across her forehead.

  Once the appliance was out far enough, Tate leaned over for a closer look. His profile displayed that of a confused boy. A few grumbled words escaped him.

  “You okay?” Lexy interrupted. She held back a smirk.

  “Yeah…what? Is there something funny?” he said, gripping the corners and shooting her narrowed eyes.

  “Yep. You don’t know what the hell you’re doing.”

  Tate straightened up and faced Lexy. “And, you do, Miss Short Circuit?”

  “Hey, I’m pretty good at figuring stuff out…most of the time.”

  “As long as it’s written on your hand.” He smiled.

  Her face flushed with heat. “Maybe you ought to stick with flowers,” Lexy said, remembering the business card he’d handed her days ago. She’d been surprised then and the words came out too fast to stop them.

  Tate approached her, stopping short of touching her legs. “You saying flowers aren’t manly?”

  The giddiness she felt teasing him all but disappeared, replaced with uneasy tension sprinkled with a hint of guilt. “Uh, no…” she said, staring up at him.

  He bent over, resting his hand on the back of the chair so their faces were inches apart. The aroma of fresh soap and man hit her hard. “Then, what are you saying?” he said softly.

  Lexy’s breath hitched and her throat dried. She attempted to swallow, wondering why he was having this effect on her. “What I’m saying is…,” she said emphatically, “…that I’m sure you’re much better at running your business than you are at repairs. Basically…you don’t know shit about maintenance.”

  She stood, abruptly, pushing herself up and past him, stepping right into the puddle. One foot slid up in front of her while the other slid behind causing her to lunge into splits. Unfortunately Lexy was never that flexible, so her legs locked in a V like a pair of scissors just before she toppled over to the side.

  Strong hands slipped under her arms, suspending her body before it hit the wet floor. Tate swung her over the puddle, landing his own feet in the water and causing him to slip. A skid, a maneuver, two cries, and a collision ended in Tate flat on his back with Lexy splayed across his front.

  He lifted his head to grab a look at Lexy, whose chin rested on his sturdy bare chest. “Holy crap, are you okay?” he asked.

  An easy, sexy smile in the face of adversity. Refreshing.

  He opened his mouth again. “I thought I could save your clumsy ass.”

  “Hey, you’re the one flat-ass on your back.” Lexy pushed his head back down in an attempt to get up, splashing it into the water.

  A low growl emitted from Tate as his brow furrowed. “God! You’re impossible.” Lexy’s eyes widened while her heart raced, worried she’d pushed a now pissed Tate too far. Then, his lips pulled wide into a devious grin and suddenly her body flipped, reversing their positions so fast she had no time to protest.

  “Tate,” she said, surprised. Lying on her back, their faces inches from each other, her heartbeat accelerated further. Her breath became ragged when she saw the longing float from his penetrating gaze.

  “Kitten.” It came out in a heavy whisper.

  The weight of his solid body on hers was enough to send her into a heated frenzy. But, guilt immediately set in, and she needed to act fast. “God, Tate, I’m all wet,” she said, hitting his arm and purporting anger.

  “I tend to have that effect on women.”

  That gorgeous gleaming smile revealed itself again, and it was all Lexy could do to not be taken over by it. It was so different from Julian’s smile, which seemed to be a byproduct of being so completely engrossed in business dealings. Tate’s smile was genuine, warm, inviting, sexy. Oh, God. “Off! Get off me! Now!”

  Chapter 5

  “You still mad at me?” Lexy sat on a washer, legs dangling over the edge.

  “Why would I be mad? Oh, you mean because you kneed me in the crotch? Or because you made me wear this stupid T-shirt and shorts?” Tate stood leaning against a wall, wearing green mesh shorts that landed a good six inches above his knees and a shirt that read, “Clowns scare me.” As unattractive as the outfit was, Lexy hadn’t been able to stop her eyes from continually turning his way. It was lucky, or maybe unlucky, that they were able to find some clothes in a dryer to replace their wet ones. He’d been standing there for the past ten minutes watching out the window for anyone who might walk by and free them.

  “I’m sorry. I swear that was an accident. I was just trying to get up.” Lexy pulled at the Janet Jackson Rhythm Nation shirt which tented her body over a pair of flowery pajama bottoms. They’d agreed that fixing the machine was too much for either of them and a professional would need to be called.

  “It’s okay. I just feel like an idiot in these clothes, and not one person has walked by.”

  It had been an effort not to laugh at how ridiculous he looked, but she couldn’t add insult to injury. “You should probably call your dad,” Lexy said.

  “I don’t want to bother him when he’s supposed to be resting. Let’s give it a few more minutes.” He left his post and joined her, sitting on the machine next to her.

  “You look pretty cute in that shirt,” Tate said.

  She blushed and stared straight ahead.

  “It’s like we’re in college, and you slept over and that was what you pulled on the next day.”

  “Slept over?” Lexy raised her brows, waiting.

  “As friends, of course.”

  “Of course…but there’s one problem with that scenario.”

  “What’s that?” His quick response and eager expression made her stomach perform a tiny flip.

  “What are you doing with a Janet Jackson shirt in your room?”

  The look on his face showed it was not what he’d expected, but a smile pulled up on his lips a second later. “It uh…belonged to an ex-girlfriend?”

  “Eh.”

  “Okay…” His dark eyes lightened with a sparkle. “Before getting into the extremely physically demanding and masculine floral business, I was a personal bodyguard to the stars. Janet was my last client before retiring because she’d become romantically obsessed with me. I let her give me the shirt as a token of her affection.”

  We both giggled and then turned our heads forward. “Nice…much better,” I said.

  When the laughter subsided, he said, “Ready for that Snickers, now?”

  “I’m not that desperate yet. And I’ve got wedding dress fittings soon.”

  “Trust me, you can afford it.”

  “No bride can afford it.”

  “Go ahead and play it off, but you’re going to be a gorgeous bride. He’s damn lucky.”

  A smile was her thank you. What else could she say?

  Tate seemed to let her off the hook. “Hey, why don’t we call your friend Mimi or that Mrs. Granger lady?”

  “Can’t. I don’t have my phone.”

 
; Tate held up his cell. “Just tell me the number.”

  Lexy lifted her hand, palm facing Tate. “Do I look like someone who has a good memory?”

  Silence filled the air as Tate gently took hold of her wrist, pulling it toward him. “So what is this anyway?” he said, running his finger over the words she’d written. “It’s a piece of cake?”

  This time she didn’t withdraw her arm. “Oh, that’s just one of the names I’m considering for my shop.”

  “Shop?” he asked. His eyes, filled with interest, found hers. He grinned sweetly.

  “Yeah, I want to open my own bakery.”

  “Wow, that’s very cool…and exciting.”

  “Yeah. Thanks. Julian’s helping me.”

  She regretted that last statement as soon as it left her lips. Her mention of Julian seemed to deflate him, and he released her wrist. “That’s great. So what do you bake?”

  “Cakes, cupcakes, cookies.”

  “Oh. Why don’t you call it ‘The C-word’?” He laughed and flinched as if he anticipated the smack she would deliver.

  Her raised arm descended and instead she said, “Yeah, well, why didn’t you call your business ‘the F-word?’”

  “Touché. But I think ‘Bowers’ Flowers’ has a nice ring to it.”

  “It does. How’d you get going with your business so quickly? Didn’t you say you’ve only been here a few months?”

  “Well, almost four to be exact. But it was really a relocation. My partner needed me to buy him out, and since Dad was having a hard time I figured it was time for a change.”

  “It was nice of you to make such a huge change for your dad.”

  “He’d do the same for me.” Tate stared in front of him again, pausing as if he needed a moment to continue. “He has diabetes, and recently he’s had a lot of medical complications as a result of that. Mostly because he doesn’t care for himself the way he should.”

  “I’m sorry about that.” Lexy placed a gentle hand on Tate’s, her glance calling him to turn his gaze her way. When she saw the expression in his eyes, she panicked and turned away.

 

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