Page 67 of The Refiner

“Yet, it was a few minutes ago when you claimed you needed a life raft.”

This man. “I said I needed a life jacket, not a raft, and the comment is defined as dramatic, not sarcastic. But I’m guessing they don’t stress language arts all that much in med school anymore.”

“No, just the saving lives aspect.” I can hear the humor in his voice, and unfortunately, it makes me smile.

“Are you really going to be able to fix this?”

He might be a man, but does he really know valves and pipes? I mean, other than my pipe? Clearly, he has that one mastered, but then again, the man knows his anatomy.

“Probably not, but I can call someone who can clean floors. Men know how to make calls, too, you know.”

Now he’s just trying to be cute. “You’re already getting on my nerves. You better hope I calm down before you get here. Otherwise, I’m liable to drown you—floors be damned.”

He snorts. “How’s it going with the packing?”

My mouth snaps shuts. “Great. Almost done.”

“Can’t wait to see all the progress.”

He knows I’ve been avoiding him. I’m sure of it.

“Goodbye, Astor.”

I hang up with him as he enjoys a deep belly laugh at my expense.

Keagan

He rings the doorbell, looking like a supermodel who had ten hours of sleep and a team of people who made him look like he was fresh, even though he had only gotten two hours of sleep.

“I brought coffee instead of a life jacket. Hope that’s not disappointing.”

He thrusts the cup into my hands, only allowing his eyes to linger on my chest for a full minute before I remember that I am still braless—no one pretends to pack boxes in a bra, give me a break—as well as soaked from head to toe from looking for that damn valve.

“What’s disappointing is that you’re not covered in baby puke. Tatum and I are going to have a long talk about what is expected of the McKellan women.” I grab the carrier from him and it’s not nearly as light as he makes it look. “Hope all your man knowledge kicks in because that valve is not there.”

The corner of his mouth tips up. “Would you like to make a wager on it?”

This is my problem. I never can back down from a challenge. Especially from a man who thinks he’s smarter than me. Okay, well, Astor isprobablysmarter than me. I doubt I could have passed rigorous medical boards, fellowships, and a million years of school to become a doctor. But I’m just saying, Astor is no more a plumber than I am.

“What are the stakes?”

Astor pushes inside and closes the door, his fingers already clutching the bottom of his t-shirt. “I’m thinking a night out.”

I scoff. “That’s easy.”

“Alone.”

Alone? “Like a date—without Tatum?”

He nods. “You scared to talk to me without our buffer?”

This man knows how to push my damn buttons. He knows I’ll have to prove him wrong. “I talked to you before Tatum, remember? I’ve also slept with you. Several times, I might add.” Has he forgotten all those nights?

“Not since things have changed between us.”

I scoff, hoping my cheeks don’t redden and betray my lies. “Nothing has changed between us. We slept together, that’s all.”

He shrugs a shoulder and then rips the t-shirt from his body, revealing those glorious packs of muscles.

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