Page 11 of Acting Merry
I’d work on that mouth any day.
Professionally.
“Hey again.” He’s wearing an unbuttoned flannel shirt with a white tee beneath. The sleeves are rolled up to just below the elbows, a chalky substance streaked along sinewy forearms.
“Hey again,” I echo, moving aside to let him in.
There’s no way in Hades I’m asking this man to come with me. Not with that jawline. Not with those forearms.
Would I be delighted to show up with him on my arm and see the look on Brady’s face?
700%.
But that doesn’t mean I have the chutzpah to make that type of request of a near-stranger who could easily be the love child of Adonis and Aphrodite.
Maybe I can still salvage something out of my lie, though. Hey! My made-up boyfriend could fall down the mountain! He’s so klutzy.
No, adventurous! An adrenaline junkie. I’d be a jerk not to stay with him in his time of pain, which would, sadly, require me to miss the cabin getaway.
I shut the door behind Cole, setting aside the problem of how to handle the Christmas cabin mess later.
Cole puts out a hand, revealing a rubbery, gray circle in his palm. “Your seal.”
“Oh, right! Thank you so much.” I take it and rub it absently between my fingers, my mind still running away with my idea. “You really didn’t have to do that.”
He just smiles. Again,excellentdentition. It’s not a perfect smile, but perfect smiles are boring. His is as much about the vibe behind the smile as it is about the teeth. “I have more random parts like that seal than I know what to do with. I’m happy to install it for you if you want. Consider it my apology for clogging up your mailbox.”
“Honestly? The mailbox would be depressingly empty otherwise. You don’t need to fix the sink.”
He shrugs. “It’ll just take a few minutes, and then you don’t have to pay a repair guy. I actually meant to fix it before the sale closed. Lemme just grab my toolbox from the car.”
I should say no, but my wallet is screaming at me to take him up on his offer. “Will it really just take a few minutes?”
He smiles, then turns back the way he came.
I let out a big breath as I watch him jog back to his car and open his trunk. Since he left the other night, I’ve gone through my house a bit differently, like knowing who lived here before me has changed the way I look at things. I find myself wondering whether Cole ever used the bay window seat and how he arranged the bedroom furniture.
My phone buzzes.
Hannah
Is it too much to ask for a picture of him? Even a blurry one will do. Also, a name. And a Social Security number if you have it.
I shove my phone into my pocket as Cole jogs back up to me with his toolbox in hand.
I shut the door behind him, and he leads the way to the kitchen. He’s walked these hallways way more times than I have. It’ll take me a long time to know this house the way he does.
“I’m surprised you let me come back given what I roped you into last time,” he says as he kneels on the floor and opens the cabinet.
I set the seal on the counter behind me and watch him get to work. The puzzle pieces of what I know of Cole are starting to make me think he works or at least moonlights in the home improvement sphere.
“It was no big deal,” I say.
He chuckles and sets a couple of parts on the counter, then grabs a cloth from the toolbox and disappears under the cabinet. “Another day, another fake boyfriend, huh?”
“This may shock you, but you’re actually my very first fake boyfriend. Ex-fake boyfriend, I guess.” I’m kind of kicking myself for breaking up with him over Reese’s Pieces.
“You need to get out more.” He flashes me a teasinggrin from the dim under-cabinet. “You sure handled it like someone who’s had a lot of practice.”
