by Sarah Curtis
Abby gave him a grateful smile as she handed him a bottle of water. "That's wonderful news. How much do I owe you?"
He took a long drink, polishing off more than half before saying, "It was relatively easy, and no parts were needed. Think twenty-five should cover it."
Abby's eyes stretched wide in disbelief. "Dollars?" she shouted, thinking it would be a lot more. Back in L.A., you couldn't get a plumber to show up for less than a hundred bucks, let alone on a Sunday. And she should know, she'd heard her dad bitch about it enough when they needed to change out all the old pipes in their house a few years ago.
Rich frowned, and she quickly said, "Sorry, I didn't mean to yell at you. I just thought it would cost more."
His face cleared, and he smiled. "Well, like I said, I didn't need to order any parts."
"Yes, but it's a Sunday."
He chuckled. "Aren't you supposed to be haggling down 'stead of up?"
Abby chuckled with him before going into the house to find her purse. She scrounged around in her wallet, finding all the cash she had on hand. It was only forty bucks, but it would have to do.
Rich's frown returned as he looked down at the money Abby held out to him. "I don't have change."
"Please keep it all. I wish it were more."
"That's really nice, ma'am, but it was really no big deal. Just cleaned out a pipe and turned a knob."
"And I'm grateful for that. I now have running water." The sun flashed on the band of gold around his ring finger. "Buy something for your wife on your way home as a thank you from me for pulling you away on a Sunday," she said, with an encouraging smile.
In the end, she'd persuaded him to take the money. After he stomped down the porch steps and got in his truck, he gave her a smile and a wave before taking off. Abby raised her arm and waved back. For the first time, feeling a part of her new home.
Chapter Three
Abby pulled her head out of the oven. She kept hearing a scratching noise that sounded as if it came from the roof. She was on day three of housecleaning and had made quite a lot of progress. Now instead of dust and must, her home smelled of lemony freshness. So far, the oven had been her biggest challenge, looking as if it were covered in twenty years of grime. Guess her grandma had never heard of Easy-Off.
She heard the scratching again and knew the noise would bother her unless she discovered the source. Throwing down the sponge and peeling off her rubber gloves, she took a moment to quietly listen. It sounded as if the noise came from the fireplace. Abby hoped it was a branch knocking against something, but she didn't remember seeing any trees on that side of the house.
She stuck her head in the fireplace and looked up, but it was too dark to see anything. The noise was a bit louder here, although, it didn't sound like it was coming from inside the chimney. She didn't have a flashlight, at least she didn't think she did. She hadn't come across one while cleaning. Remembering she had a flashlight app on her phone, she retrieved it from the back pocket of her jean shorts, clicked on the app, and aimed the light up the chimney. The weak app light didn't reach far, she couldn't see toward the top, but what she could see looked free of debris.
Okay, plan B, she needed to look on the roof. She went out front and looked up, but couldn't see far enough back, she was too short, and the angle was off. Putting her brain to use, she remembered seeing a shed out back and hoped it contained a ladder.
She hadn't had a chance to explore her backyard yet and to be frank, she hadn't missed much. Mostly dirt, no flowers, a couple of bushes close to the house but the rest, barren as far as the eye could see. She honestly didn't know how much of the land was her actual property and wouldn't know what to do with it even if she did.
The shed was big, white, and made from some kind of metal material. Fortunately, the doors weren't locked, but she did have a bit of a struggle sliding them open, and they made some god-awful screeching noise as she pried them apart. The shed was large enough to step inside even with the overabundance of tools and supplies—half of which she couldn't even name—filling it. She scanned the dim interior, spotting what looked to be a six-foot ladder, leaning against the back wall.
Her actions at this point were most likely comical to the outside observer, struggling to maneuver the ladder out of the shed then awkwardly half-carrying-half-dragging it around to the front of the house before positioning it under the lowest point of the roof. There was still a good four-foot gap between the top of the ladder and the edge of the eave. She figured the edge would hit her about waist level if she stood at the top of the ladder on her tiptoes and could then pull herself up.
That was the plan, at least. What actually happened...
Abby started her climb up the ladder. She wasn't usually afraid of heights, but being on uneven ground made the ladder a little wobbly, and she felt her heartbeat pick up speed the higher she climbed. When she reached the second to the last step, she was high enough to grab the edge of the roof. Feeling more secure, she took the last few steps up and with a little bounce, hoisted herself so her top half lay flat while her legs dangled, bent at the waist.
Then she heard a loud crash and didn't need to look to know the ladder had fallen. With a sigh, she dropped her forehead to the roof, wondering how in the heck she was going to get down. And it was while she pondered this dilemma, her arms growing sore from supporting her weight, that she felt a hand grab her ankle.
* * * * *
"What the fuck?" Cole applied the breaks as he neared the O'Neal spread. His new neighbor hung, ass in the air—and what a very fine ass it was—off the side of her roof. He hadn't had the pleasure of seeing the backside of Abigail O'Neal when he'd laid eyes on her for the first time, sitting in the diner the other morning. But the front side of her had been enough to stop him in his tracks. Being a small town, it didn't take him long to find out the name of his mystery woman, or the fact that she'd been hired on as a new schoolteacher and moved into the O'Neal spread.
It also didn't take him long to figure out he should stay the fuck away from her. With her reddened cheeks and downcast eyes, screaming her innocence, an asshole like him had no business going near her. He'd planned to keep his distance to a few neighborly "hellos" now and again. Yeah, that had been the plan until he'd spied her perfect ass on display encased in a pair of tight jean shorts. Then his dick took over the show. See? Asshole.
He stopped his truck and got out just as the ladder crashed to the ground. The devil on his shoulder grinned as he looked up at Abigail, knowing she was completely trapped and totally at his mercy, and Cole grinned along with him also liking that, a lot. He advanced to her quickly, not knowing whether it was fear of her falling or the thought of laying his hands on her that rushed his steps. Most likely the latter, but he wasn't one to dwell on any of his many character flaws. He was what he was and had made peace with that years ago.
He felt her stiffen at his touch, but she didn't cry out in alarm. She tried to look over her shoulder more than likely to see who had grabbed her, but she couldn't get a glimpse of him without losing her balance. He expected her to say something, ask for help or at the very least, ask who the fuck he was, but she remained silent. And so did he.
He took his time, looking up the long length of her tanned legs to that perfect ass, and her softly rounded hips. His hands followed his eyes, lightly skimming up her calves, enjoying the silky softness of her skin, stopping at the end of his reach, his fingertips caressing the backs of her knees.
"Scoot yourself back, darlin', and I'll help you down." He watched her ass wiggle side to side as she shimmied her body down the roof until he could place his hands firmly on her hips. "I've gotcha, let go." She released the roof, giving him her full weight. Her back to his front, her body sliding down as his hands s
lid up, coming to rest under her arms with his fingers grazing the sides of her tits.
She tried to step out of his hold, but he dug his fingers in, holding her firmly in place. She didn't resist him after that, and his devil liked that, too.
He leaned his head down, his lips close to her ear. Some wispy strands of her hair, not caught up in the pile atop her head, tickled his cheek while its floral fragrance filled his nose. "What were you doing up on the roof?"
She tried to turn her head, but he pressed his cheek to hers preventing the movement. Again she didn't fight him, and he felt his dick swell at her compliance.
The tip of her tongue came out to tease him, making his dick harder as she licked her lips before she spoke. "I um... heard a noise."
Her voice was soft but throaty, sultry. Fuck him, if she wasn't the whole package. Sexy-as-fuck body, beautiful face, enticing voice, and pliant. He was screwed and if he were smart, he would walk the fuck away right now, but that damn devil on his shoulder had other ideas.
Stepping closer, he heard her breath catch and wondered if she felt the effect she had on him. He lightly skimmed his fingers along the sides of her breasts, her nipples visibly puckering through her thin T-shirt, and he found himself strangely curious how sensitive they were. Would she like it best if he lightly caressed them with his tongue or would she like it wild, biting and sucking them hard with his mouth?
Mentally shaking himself, he brought his mind back on topic. "What kind of noise?" He had a deep voice with a slight drawl, and he felt that it sent a light shiver racing through her body. His devil grinned, wide.
"Scratching. Like something's crawling around." She stepped away from his embrace, and he let her go. He noticed recognition flash through her eyes as she scanned him from head to toe. She hesitated for a few seconds before saying, "If you come in the house, you can hear it."
It was her hesitation that made him pause, going inside was a bad idea, but his devil was in full control so found himself saying, "Well, darlin', lead the way."
* * * * *
Abby couldn't believe she was standing in her front yard, talking with the sexy cowboy from the diner. Cole, the patrons had called him. She felt her face heat and quickly ducked her head to hide his effect on her. God, he was even better looking up close, and he had been spectacular from afar. She noticed her white tank was covered in a layer of dirt from the roof. Her first inclination had been to swat at it, but the grime was well set and couldn't be wiped away.
She knew he waited for her to show him into her house, but she needed another few moments to collect herself. He had her flustered. It was his smile—a little bit arrogant with a dash of naughty and completely sinful—that left her tongue-tied.
Taking a big step back, she made some funky arm gesture toward her front door, and stammered a mumbled, "It's right this way," as if he couldn't clearly see where the front door was. God, she was such a dork.
Thankfully, he didn't call her out on her awkward social graces, and she led him into the house, happily not tripping over her feet in the process. She may be shy and self-conscious but clumsy, she was not. "The noise was loudest by the fireplace. I'm just going to um..." She looked down at her tank. "Change my shirt. I'll be right back. Feel free to stick your head in the fireplace to listen for the noise." Stick your head in the fireplace? She cringed, thinking she should just shut up if that was the best she could come up with.
Deciding she'd probably make a better impression on him if she left the room entirely, she rushed to her bedroom, heading straight to the boxes stacked by the closet. With all the cleaning, she hadn't had a chance to unpack yet. She dug through the box she knew had all her tees, trying to find one that was feminine and cute, selecting another tank, this one pink with a line of buttons down the front that made even her B-cup breasts look voluptuous. Why she was bothering, she didn't know. She would never have the nerve to act on her attraction, and she was sure he didn't see her as anything more than an unsophisticated ninny.
Abby tossed her clean top on the dresser, stripped out of her soiled one, then looked at herself in the dresser mirror. To her mortification, she discovered dirt covered her forehead. Flipping wonderful. It must have happened when she banged her head against the roof in her frustration. She closed her eyes and took a couple of deep breaths while counting to ten. She'd had dirt on her forehead the whole time, and Hunky Cole saw it. How could she possibly go back out there and face him again?
She opened her eyes and found Cole's, staring back at her through the mirror. In her frantic dash to leave Cole's presence, she didn't even think to shut her bedroom door. He stood in the open doorway casually leaning against the frame, his legs crossed at the ankles with his arms folded across his chest. His lids were slightly lowered, his head lightly cocked, and a small almost evil looking smile decorated his lips. He looked as if he wanted to devour her, and she had a hard time wrapping her brain around that notion. Strangely, she couldn't look away, his gaze hypnotizing. It was the longest she'd ever held a man's eyes. She was completely in his power.
Belatedly, she realized she stood only in her bra and felt her nipples harden at the thought of his eyes on her breasts. Did his eyes stray to her breasts? Was his look lustful or was it her imagination that she saw his nostrils flare? She'd had such little interaction with men over the years, she wasn't sure. She wasn't even sure what she was supposed to do now. Did she call him out on his look? Any other woman would probably flirt, let him know they were interested, but though she was interested, she knew not one thing about flirting. So she would do what she'd always done when in a situation she was unsure of, she would ignore it.
Pulling her eyes from his, she quickly snatched her clean top and slipped it over her head before picking up her dirty one, swiping it across her forehead a few times, wiping away most of the dirt. During that time, Cole stood silently in the doorway not moving a muscle.
Fully clothed and as presentable as she would get without a shower, she looked at him once more through the mirror. Pretending the last few minutes hadn't happened, she asked, "Did you hear the noise?"
He straightened away from the door frame. "Yeah, I'm heading to the roof, now. Wanted to let you know, so you didn't freak if you hear more noise."
Was he mocking her? She tilted her head, trying to read his expression, but his features were blank. His tone had been even, as well. She wasn't good at reading people, which was funny because she had no trouble reading kids. It wasn't until people became adults that they learned to hide their true feelings, and short of asking him outright if he were making fun of her—which she would never do—she would just have to let it slide. She gave him a slight nod, and he disappeared from her view. She took a deep breath and let it out slowly. No doubt about it, he rattled her. She just wished she had the experience to know whether it was in a good or bad way.
She heard stomping on the roof and rushed outside. Shielding her eyes from the sun with her hand, she looked up at Cole. "Do you see anything?"
He walked to the edge and looked down, legs planted wide, hands on his hips. "No. The roof's clean."
She stared, transfixed, at the display of muscles, bulging and flexing on his arms as he climbed down the ladder. Who knew she had a thing for arm muscles, or maybe it was just his. She was fascinated by everything about him and was sure that wasn't a good thing, for her at least.
"It's possible the noise could be coming from your attic. Have you been up there yet?"
He hovered over her, a large presence, shielding her from the sun. Abby blinked a few times so dazed by his proximity, it took a few moments for his words to digest and realize he'd asked her a question. "Oh, um... no, I haven't."
He was smirking at her again, and she couldn't tell if she amused him or he thought her an idiot.
Most likely the latter. Again, something else to ignore. "You want to show me the entrance, I'll have a look around."
"Yes, of course. It's in the house. You'll need to come in um... again." Again, she made that stupid arm to the doorway gesture. Why did she keep doing that?!
"Yeah, I assumed as much."
Again, the smirk. Really, she wasn't that amusing. Going full force with the ignore plan, she led him back in the house and down the hall to the attic trapdoor.
"I haven't opened it yet. God only knows, what's up there." She stepped back as Cole pulled on the handle and a set of stairs came down. "Do you need a flashlight?"
"Yeah, that might be a good idea."
Abby pulled out her phone and held it out to him. When he didn't take it right away, she gave it a little shake and said, "It's got a flashlight app."
This time, more than a smirk appeared on his lips. She was sure it almost qualified for a smile. "Darlin', I have one of those on my phone."
"Oh, right, I'm sure you do." Feeling stupid for not assuming that, she tucked her phone back in her pocket. "I um... haven't come across a real flashlight, yet, but I can go look for one."
She turned on her heel to leave, but he grabbed her arm, stopping her flight. Tingles literally shot up her arm. She didn't know that could really happen. She'd thought it was some exaggeration used in sappy romance novels, but here was proof, her whole arm tingled, and the spot he held felt incredibly warm.
He must have had the same reaction because he immediately dropped her arm as if it were on fire then ran that same hand through his hair, looking deep in thought.
He sighed.
Now, she knew sighs from men were never good, this she learned from her father. Anytime she or her mother did something to displease him, or he had something unpleasant to say, he would sigh. Exactly like Cole just had. Oh, boy.