Page 15 of Small Town Daddy

She blew out a shaky breath. "Why do I get the feeling that I might be in over my head with this whole renovation."

The admission hung heavy in the air between us. I wiped my hands on a rag, choosing my next words carefully. "It's a big undertaking for anyone," I agreed gently.

My heart twisted at the lost look that flickered across her face. She was drowning in this, and every protective instinct I possessed reared up, demanding I throw her a lifeline.

"Listen," I began, "I know you want to do this on your own, but there's no shame in accepting help." I took a steadying breath, pulse kicking up a notch. "I'd be more than happy to assist you. I’ve got plenty of time."

Wide blue eyes searched mine, a kaleidoscope of emotions swirling in their depths. Trepidation. Gratitude. And something else, something that sent a thrill humming through my veins.

"I couldn't ask you to do that," she protested weakly.

"You're not." I held her gaze, tried to convey my sincerity. "I'm offering."

Seconds stretched as she wavered, a war playing out across her delicate features. Then, just when I was sure she'd refuse, she exhaled softly.

"Okay," she whispered. "I . . . thank you, Marcus. Truly."

My name on her lips did funny things to my insides. I swallowed hard, scrambling to maintain my composure.

I glanced around the damp laundry room, the wet floor glistening under the harsh fluorescent lights. This was no place for her to stay, not with the risk of more plumbing disasters looming.

An idea took root, and before I could second-guess myself, I found myself speaking.

"You know, it’s not really safe for you to stay here. There’s no running water, and the pipes are shot.” My heart hammered against my rib cage as I forced out the next words. "I have a guest room at my place. You're welcome to stay there until we sort this out."

Lucy's eyes widened, a pink flush creeping up her neck. "Oh, I couldn't possibly—"

I raised a hand gently, cutting off her protest. "I insist. It would give me peace of mind knowing you're safe."

The air between us crackled with tension as she bit her lip, indecision written across her face. I held my breath, hoping she couldn't hear the way my pulse pounded in my ears.

"Besides," I added, aiming for a lighter tone, "it'll be easier to plan the repairs if we're not dealing with a flooded house."

A heartbeat passed. Two. Then, slowly, she nodded. "Alright. Thank you, Marcus. I . . . I really appreciate it."

Relief surged through me, followed swiftly by a thrill of anticipation that I firmly tamped down.

Get a grip, Wilkins. This is about helping her, not indulging your fantasies.

I busied myself with shutting off the water main and mopping up the worst of the puddles, hyper aware of Lucy's presence just a few feet away.

As I worked, I couldn't help sneaking glances at her from the corner of my eye. Even drenched and shivering, there wasa luminous quality to her, a strength that shone through the vulnerability.

It stirred something deep in my chest, an urge to protect, to cherish, to. . . .

No. I gave myself a mental shake. I couldn't go there, not when she was counting on me to be a friend, a support.

Wringing out the mop one last time, I straightened up and met her gaze. "All set. Let's get you somewhere dry."

The gratitude in her eyes was almost my undoing, but I steeled my resolve, determined not to let my baser instincts get the better of me.

This was about being there for her, in whatever way she needed. Even if it meant ignoring the part of me that longed for so much more.

I grabbed my toolbox and gestured for her to lead the way, following her out into the darkened hall.

It was going to be a long night.

Chapter 5