Page 14 of Small Town Daddy

I sat back on my heels, suddenly aware of my ragged breathing. My soaked shirt clung to my chest as it heaved. Raking a hand through my hair, I glanced up at Lucy.

She stood frozen, wide-eyed and shell-shocked. Like a fairy tale princess who'd just battled a dragon. Water pooled around her bare feet, the puddle an aftermath of her adventure.

"You okay?" I asked softly, searching her face for signs of distress.

A slightly manic laugh bubbled out of her. "I've been better," she admitted, voice wavering.

Our eyes locked and the world momentarily fell away. I became acutely aware of our proximity. Her lavender shampoo cut through the mildewy air, enveloping me. Beads of water traced down her neck, disappearing beneath the neckline of her drenched shirt.

I swallowed hard. Damn, she was beautiful. Even like this—sodden and disheveled. Maybe especially like this.

Realizing I was staring, I forced my gaze to the ruptured pipe. "Let's see about patching this up."

Rising to my feet, I shrugged off my flannel and wrapped it snugly around her quivering shoulders. She pulled it tight, a hint of color rising in her cheeks. Luckily, I had a t-shirt underneath.

"Thank you," she murmured shyly, glancing up at me through dark lashes. "For coming to my rescue."

"That's what neighbors are for, right?" I answered with a crooked smile, tamping down the surge of satisfaction her gratitude evoked.

As I turned to assess the damage, I wondered what the hell I'd gotten myself into. Burst pipes were one thing. The feelings taking root in my chest? That was a whole different kind of trouble.

My hands moved on autopilot, twisting valves and tightening gaskets, as my mind churned. Focus, I chided myself. She needs your help, not . . . whatever this is.

But my heart refused to cooperate. The protective instincts I usually kept tightly leashed strained against their bonds. Shelooked so small, so vulnerable. Like a little bird with a broken wing. She shivered.

“I need to warm you up,” I said. “Where do you keep your towels?”

"Hall closet. I'll grab some."

"No, you stay put. I've got it." The words came out more brusque than I intended. Softening my tone, I added, "You're soaked. Let me."

Her teeth worried at her bottom lip, but she nodded. "Okay. Thanks."

I ducked into the hallway, riffling through the indicated closet. Plush cotton met my seeking fingers and I snagged a stack, tucking them under my arm.

Returning to the laundry room, I held one out. "Here, this should help."

"Thank you," she whispered, pink staining her cheeks.

"No problem."

With any luck, we could get this pipe situation sorted quickly. Then maybe I could put some much-needed distance between us. Rebuild the walls her mere presence seemed to effortlessly dismantle.

Because this warmth spreading through my chest? The overwhelming need to gather her close and chase away the uncertainty clouding her eyes?

It spelled trouble. The kind I wasn't at all sure I was ready to handle.

I cleared my throat, dragging my focus back to the task at hand. "I'll take a look at the pipe. See if it's a quick fix."

Lucy stood nearby, toweling her damp hair as she watched me crouch down and inspect the damage. "I thought I could handle a simple load of laundry," she said ruefully.

Glancing up, I offered what I hoped was a reassuring smile. "These old pipes can be tricky. It's not your fault. Most likely hasn’t seen any maintenance for years."

Leaning in closer, I examined the source of the leak. Corroded metal flaked beneath probing fingers. I sat back on my heels with a sigh. "The pipe's shot. It needs replacing. Honestly, we should check the others too, make sure this doesn't happen again."

"Great." Her shoulders slumped. "Just what I need."

"Hey." I straightened, fighting the urge to reach out and tip up her chin. "We'll get it sorted, okay?"

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