Page 45 of The Pretenders of Copper County
I slapped a hand down over his when it was still a few precious, crucial inches above my cock. “Getting a littlerealthere, fake husband.”
Chris made a big production of yawning and fluttering his eyes open. “Reed? Goodness, I must’ve been sleeping hard!”
Something was definitely hard.
The man was a terrible liar. Yet another thing that shouldn’t have been a turn-on, yet there I was, fighting the urge to laugh… and fighting the urge to let his hand continue its quest.
I gave his flank a teasing slap, and when he yelped out a laugh, I took the opportunity to slide out from underneath him. “Come on. Weren’t you the one saying how warm it was going to be today? Let’s get an early start. Dibs on first bathroom.”
Resigned but cheerful, Chris climbed out of bed and put on his glasses. By the time I’d finished brushing my teeth and changing my sleep pants for shorts and a T-shirt, Chris already had coffee brewing in the kitchenette, which someone—probably Watt, I grudgingly admitted—had outfitted with a minifridge, a cooktop, a microscopic microwave/oven combo, a toaster, a coffee maker, and even some coffee. While Chris took his turn in the bathroom, I toasted a bagel and handed it to him when he emerged, damp and pink-cheeked, a little while later.
“Oh my gosh! Thank you so much, Reed.” Chris’s eyes shone like the slightly burnt bread product on a paper plate was a priceless diamond.
I might have been all twisted up over the situation, but my dick knew exactly how it felt about those big brown eyes… and the soft, clingy fabric of his thrifted black athletic shorts, and the olive-green T-shirt that set off his freckles.
I mumbled something and forced myself to focus on my coffee.
“So… still working on the roof of Cabin 7?” Chris wondered. He curled up in one corner of the love seat, plate on his bent knees, and picked off small sections of his bagel.
I made a sound of agreement. “Turned out to be a bigger project than I thought—” Chris inhaled as if about to speak, and because I knew exactly what he was going to say, I fixed him with a glare. “—and no, I still don’t need your help.”
He pursed his lips. “But I know what I’m doing,” he said with a sigh. “I’m really good at fixing roofs. Practically an expert.”
“Yeah, you said,” I agreed. “Then I asked you how that was possible for a charcuterie specialist, and you said, ‘I contain multitudes, Reed Sunday.’” I sipped my coffee. “Which certainly put me in my place but, believe it or not, does not reassure me that you have practical experience.”
“Well, I do.” Rolling his eyes, Chris pulled his knees to his chest and balanced his plate on top—a daytime version of the protective position he sometimes adopted when he was sleeping. It was really, unbearably, annoyingly adorable.
I slouched against the counter, coffee in hand, and watched himsteadily.
“Ugh, fine.” His cheeks went pink—probably more with pique than embarrassment. “If you must know, I learned to fix a roof because I broke one, okay? One time I… I pulled a telescope out onto the little porch roof outside my bedroom window so I could watch a meteor shower. And it’s possible that it was a very expensive telescope, and also that Uncle Danny might have…” He coughed. “…casually indicated that I was definitely not allowed to take it out on the roof.”
My lips twitched. “You? Mr. Straight and Narrow? Disobeyed on purpose?”
“I have never claimed to be s-straight.” Chris gave me a look that made my blood sizzle. “And yes, I suppose technically I disobeyed. But it was a tiny, trivial, inconsequential disobedience. And if Danny had understood the extenuating circumstances, he might have understood.” He adjusted his glasses. “Nonna always said that if you make a wish on a falling star, it’s guaranteed to come true. It was a once-in-a-lifetime cosmic event, Reed.”
I ran a hand over my mouth to hide my smile. “Not quite seeing how this led to your roof repair expertise. Did you smash the telescope through the roof?”
“Gosh, no! Nothing that dramatic.” He waved a hand. “I just, you know, put my foot through it.”
“Yourfoot?” I straightened out of my slouch. “Through theroof? What the fuck?”
“There was a spongy spot I didn’t notice until I was just about to make my wish, and my foot sort of… broke right through it, and I lost my balance. But I didn’t fall off, and I saved the telescope,” he added proudly. “Which wasn’t what I was going to wish for, exactly, but was good luck anyway, don’t you think?”
Who gave a single shit about the fucking telescope?
“Were you hurt?” I demanded. “You could have broken your ankle.” Though he was sitting in front of me with two perfectly functional feet, I was ready to carry him off for an X-ray… eight years after the fact.
Ridiculous.
“I was fine. A little sore and a little scared, but mostly, I felt awful that I’d damaged Danny’s house,” he said earnestly. “So I watched some YouTube videos, and the next day, I drove to the hardware store and used my savings to buy supplies so I could fix everything myself.” He ripped off another piece of bagel and chewed it thoughtfully. “In the end, it all worked out because whoever did the roof initially hadn’t done the waterproofing right, and it might have been a much bigger issue later if I hadn’t taken care of it. Plus, now I have this amazing roofing experience, so… all’s well that ends well, right?” He smiled brightly.
“Jesus,” I muttered. “Your uncle just let you fix his roof?”
“Well…” His cheeks went red. “Not exactly. It was only one small section, and I was able to finish it while he was at work. But what’s important here is that I got it done?—”
“You repaired the roof in secret.”
“No! I mean… well, yes. Technically. But you make it sound like I’m some kind of criminal.” He laughed lightly. Then he froze with a piece of bagel halfway to his lips, and his eyes went impossibly wide. “Oh my gosh,amI a criminal?”
