Page 49 of Scotch on the Rocks

“I snuck out a lot as a teenager. You become an expert after facing Jim Macabe’s wrath a time or two.” Her lips pinched like the thought didn’t please her. “Very different from your dad, I bet?”

Her head tilted. She didn’t smile but her features softened, eyes brightening like two pools of melted chocolate. Folk inthe village described Juniper as cold, it made me wonder if they ever paused long enough to look her in the eyes. They were the furthest thing fromcoldI’d ever encountered.

“You could say that. Alexander was more of a ‘my kid is safer if I know where she is’ kind of parent. Most likely why I couldn’t stay away from trouble.”

It was on the tip of my tongue to say something flirtatious, like,What kind of trouble?,but I’d heard all about the excessive partying of her younger years. I wouldn’t judge her for it, I’d hardly been a saint.

“He sounds like a smart man.”

“He was.” Her throat bobbed and I knew it was time to change the subject.

I nodded to the stairs. “I could use an extra pair of hands if you have a minute?”

Her brows flew up. “My wrench skills?”

“Actually, yes.”

“Squeeze it tight.”

“Here?”

“Perfect – wait, a little tighter … there.” I pushed her hands an inch higher, increasing the pressure.

“Quit manhandling me unless you want my hands around your throat.”

“Don’t threaten me with a good time, sweetheart.” I moved her hand another inch then stepped back, inspecting the position of the toilet bowl she held in place. Too bad I only saw Juniper. On her hands and knees, that tight skirt stretched over her small but perfectly formed arse.

Christ,I started to bite into my fist, realised I was acting like a fucking creep, and forced my brain back to the task at hand, ensuring the base lined up with the clamps I’d drilled into the floor. Slightly off centre, I noted.

Sinking to my knees in the slight space between her calves, I curled my body over hers – the barest gap separating my chest from her back – and slid the heavy porcelain an inch to the left.

She inhaled sharply, making contact. “This all right?” My rough question stirred the hair at her temples.

“So long as you don’t move that hand.”

I glanced down at the hand in question. It almost grazed her breast. “Fuck,sorry.”

“Do you often find yourself in these kinds of positions while plumbing?”

“Occasionally. Jealous?”

She scoffed but I didn’t miss the flex of her fingers around the bowl.

Picking up the drill, I had little choice but to press fully against her, head curving over her shoulder to line up the large screws perfectly. Her hair tickled my cheek, shoulder curling flawlessly inside mine, like we’d been made just for this. I didn’t breathe. Keeping my hips a healthy distance away, I counted to ten, welcoming the whir of the drill that cut through the daze.

“When did you become interested in plumbing?” she asked when it quieted.

“I wouldn’t call it an interest in plumbing, exactly. I just like being self-sufficient. When I first bought the practice, the building needed fully renovating. It would have pushed me so far into the red, I’d probably still be clearing the debt now. Why pay someone when I could learn to do it myself?”

“You did it all?”

“Not everything, but I became pretty handy with a sledgehammer – what?” I pressed, noting her smile.

She shrugged. “Nothing, I just didn’t realise you were so …guyish.”

“Guyish?”

“You know, rough and ready, eats nothing but bran flakes for breakfast, starts a fire with two sticks and some dirt, kind of guy.” She was fucking with me.

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