Page 26 of Flare

I blew a sigh of defeat and went to fetch the damn towels.

Fifteen minutes later, a disgusting fist-sized clod of unrecognisable goop sat in the bucket, the pipes were back together and draining free, and I was trying not to drool over the man standing next to me, looking slightly more rumpled than he had when we started and infinitely sexier, if that were possible. His swept-up do had lost its sweep somewhere under the sink and there was a smidge of grease on his chin that I was just aching to smooth away with my thumb. But the gleam of satisfaction in those rich brown eyes was unmistakable. And so fucking sexy.

“I would’ve got there,” I muttered, staring at the drain as a full sink happily emptied down its throat.

“I know you would.” Rhys stood at my elbow, drying his slender arms with my towel, the heat of our bare skin so maddeningly close it would only take a sideways nudge to slide up against him.

“You don’t lie nearly as well as you think you do.” I stepped back and turned to face him. “I had zero chance of fixing that tonight without a fuckton of anger involved.”

He laughed, and just for a second, the house felt lighter than it had in months. “To be fair, Iwasactually being honest. I just didn’t say howlong I thought it might take you to get there with yourbendy thingy.”

Oh, he was enjoying this. “Cheeky shit. So how did you learn to do that, anyway? I wouldn’t have thought a prissy fashion boy like you would know how to clean a blocked pipe.”

He grinned and cocked his head. “Prissy fashion boy, huh? I can live with that. And just so you know, I’ve cleared a few blocked pipes in my time.” He dragged his lower lip between his teeth, and yes, we were flirting.

I shook my head. “You’re a menace.”

“Relax.” His hand rested on my arm, and every nerve in my body zeroed in on those few centimetres of shared skin. “I grew up in a house with two younger sisters, one shower, and a small hot water cylinder. Mum made my sisters wash their hair in the laundry sink so they didn’t run us out of water every time, and the drain was always blocking. My dad was useless at home handyman stuff.” He cast a pointed look my way. “Which meant I got lumbered with the job. Turns out I have a knack for the whole pipe thing.” He waggled his perfectly groomed brows. “Who’d have guessed?”

I tried to ignore the innuendo. “Do you get on well with your sisters?”

He nodded. “They’re both married and living down south, one child apiece. My dad died of a heart attack about eight years ago, like his dad before him, so Mum’s been on her own since then. The grandkid thing keeps her happy and she flies down on a regular basis, but the distance means I’m still the prime focus of her interfering wiles, something I could do well without.”

“I’m sorry about your father.”

He shrugged. “It’s life. What can you do? Mum and Dad were a good team. I’ve been lucky.”

“That’s no small thing.” I took the wet towel from his hands and pitched it toward the laundry. “And thanks for your help. I think I’ll be bumping a new kitchen up the list of renovation mortgage breakers.”

He scanned the open-plan living, his nipples pebbling in the cool. “It’s a lovely home.”

I followed his gaze. “It is. It’s just been a lot more work than I anticipated.” I pulled my discarded shirt back over my head, then went to hand Rhys his so I could get all that skin under wraps and my brain back into gear. But it was lying in a puddle of very expensive cotton on the floor. “Shit.” The material was soaked. “I’m so sorry. I bet this cost a fort—”

“Stop.” His hand landed on mine. “It’s fine. It’ll wash out. But maybe I could borrow something in the meantime?”

“Of course.” I headed upstairs and grabbed a clean brown sweater from my drawer and tried not to fret over what Rhys would think of it. “Dinner in ten,” I called to Jack as I passed his room on the way back down.

Rhys pulled the sweater over his head and it fell like a circus tent almost to his thighs.

“Fucking hell.” I swallowed the laugh threatening. “I, um, maybe should’ve got something from Jack?”

Rhys snorted. “I’m not sure whether I should feel insulted by that or not.” He pulled the sweater out to the sides, and yeah, you could’ve fit two of him in there. “It’s perfectly... fine.” He looked at me and we both cracked up.

Jack appeared in the kitchen and shook his head at our hysterics like we’d lost our damn minds. Then he saw what Rhys was wearing and snorted. “Holy shit. I hope that’s not going in your new collection.”

Which only set us off again.

Jack threw up his hands and poured himself a juice from the fridge while we composed ourselves. “Is Rhys staying for dinner?”

“Oh.” I wiped at my eyes, giving myself time to think.

“No. Thank you,” Rhys jumped in, his gaze jerking to mine. “I should really head back.”

“You’re welcome to stay.” I hesitated. “That is, if you’d like. But it’s only mac and cheese. You probably eat a lot healthier, right?”

“I happen to love mac and cheese.” Rhys looked as startled to accept as I had been to ask. Then his mouth turned up in that cheeky grin I was beginning to love. “But I should warn you, my mother makes a damn good one... just saying.”

I remembered the Louise cake and glared. “You told her, didn’t you?”

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