Page 12 of Backed By You
The mess she hurries over to are stacks of papers cluttered across the dining table. An open laptop, an empty coffee mug, and a half-eaten omelet are among the piles of what I’m assuming is…work? Whatdoesshe do exactly?
Not that I care, of course.
I push aside my curiosity and turn my attention toward the stove. The top is still warm from her breakfast and I opt to start with turning on the preheat for the oven to see what happens, if anything.
“It doesn’t get to temp,” her soft tone announces behind me. I spare a glance over my shoulder as she perches on one of the dining chairs, her slender ankles crossed and tucked beneath her as she closes her computer. “It’ll warm up, but nothing over two hundred degrees.”
With that new bit of information, I diagnose the problem right away—the heating elements have gone bad. I turn off the oven and tug it away from the wall, searching for the model number to price out replacements.
“Do I need a new one?”
My brow furrows when I glance over my shoulder again to find her standing behind me. She peers around me as I use my phone to take a picture of the metal plate on the back of the stove. The pebbled silk fabric of her top draws my attention, and I’m momentarily mesmerized by the perfect outline of her hardened nipples.
I straighten. “No,” I say far too quickly with a shove of my phone into my pocket.
Her expressive eyes widen, taking on a sort of…sultry plea I’m not at all prepared for.
“Well, I mean, it would be kind of nice to get some updated appliances in here,” she says sweetly, batting her lashes at me.
My gaze narrows. “It’s a bad heating element. Easily replaceable.”
At my tone, she pouts. “Okay, but… What if we split the cost?”
“Of what?”
“A new stove.” She gestures to the current one beside me. “That thing is like a hundred years old. And, yeah, the stovetop still works, but it’s…ugly.”
I press my thigh against the front of the ‘ugly’ oven door and give it a hard shove, forcing it back into place. “If you think using your feminine wiles are going to get you a new stove, you’re barking up the wrong tree,” I state, pivoting on my heel and heading for the door.
“My femininewiles?” she squawks, following closely. “What are you, ninety? All I want is a new stove. Preferably stainless steel to match the microwave and fridge.”
“I’ll be back in an hour with replacement parts,” I deadpan, ignoring her request.
“But I wa—”
The door slams shut behind me, cutting her off.
I smirk.
I get back to the cabin around 1100 hours with no parts in hand. After three hardware stores across two counties told me they no longer carry elements for the year I need, I was forced to order them online. Not a big deal, I suppose, but I hate leaving a project incomplete.
Or admitting my tenant may need a new stove in the near future…
Rhett’s waiting for me when I pulled my truck into the extended driveway. I texted him the specs for the new cabin earlier today and told him to put my lumber order in sooner rather than later.
Unless there was an issue with my numbers, there’s no reason he should be here.
He stands at the base of Callie’s overly floral porch, chatting with her. I frown at my brother’s wide grin as Callie throws her head back laughing at whatever he said that was funny enough to get a reaction like that out of her.
I kill the engine and get out of the truck, heading their way.
“Hey, man,” my brother says, smiling like a moron. “How did the parts run go? Callie was just telling me you figured out what’s wrong with the oven.”
“He did.” She crosses her arms, eyeing me proudly. “You’re looking a little empty-handed there, Montgomery. Trouble finding the ancient elements?”
Her sassy tone hits me square in the chest, and I fight hard not to give in to her obvious goading. At least she isn’t standing out here with my brother in her fucking pajamas. She’s changed into a pair of black fitted shorts, a loose white T-shirt, sneakers, and a light grey sweater tied around her waist. She smiles from under the rim of her teal baseball cap.
Rhett’s chuckles die in his throat once he takes in the clear annoyance on my face.
