Page 13 of The Holiday Heartbreaker

He cleared his throat and kept on walking, and it was impossible to know what he was thinking in that moment.

She was glad.

There was a small outbuilding that stood between the two cabins, and he pushed the door open. “Come here.”

With great hesitation, she followed him inside. It was a shed. And she was quite concerned that there might be spiders. It was surprisingly warm inside, though, clearly insulated.

“This is the hot water heater to the cabin. So it has to travel a little ways to heat the water up inside. But I don’t think that’s your issue. I’m just going to check the pilot light. And after that I’ll check for blown fuses and that kind of thing.”

“I don’t know about any of this stuff. I’ve had a landlord for the last six years and before that...”

“Yeah?” he prompted, moving around to the side of the appliance, fiddling with something that she couldn’t see.

“I had...” And she didn’t know why she was embarrassed to admit that she’d been married. She wasn’t usually. She had a child from that marriage. It was a huge part of her life, that relationship and the fallout from it. “My husband. My husband used to fix everything.”

“Right,” he said, and he sounded like he had some questions, but he didn’t ask them. “Yeah, the pilot light is out,” he said. “Come here. I don’t mind if you text me every time there’s a problem. And I’m going to suggest that we get a new hot water heater for the buildings out here, but until then, if there’s an issue, and you want to fix it yourself, let me show you. We just need to get it relit.” She came around to where he was, and he pointed to a place that he highlighted with his flashlight. She leaned in, and she realized that their faces were very close together. “There should be a flame here.”

She nodded, and found that she could barely breathe. He was right there. He was... He was right there.

She swallowed hard. “Okay. So we need to have a flame.”

“Yes,” he said, grinning. “We need a flame.”

He smelled like pine and skin. A masculine scent that she hadn’t been in proximity to for a long time. And even then, it hadn’t been quite like this. Because it hadn’t been him.

“A flame,” she repeated.

It was on the tip of her tongue to say that there was a flame now, and why the hell would they try to ignite anything hotter and more dangerous than what was already there? But it was in her head. It was totally in her head, and she needed to get it together.

“So this is how you reignite it,” he said. “First you need to check the gas line. That’s down here.” He crouched, and for some reason, that made her feel completely thrown off her axis. He was down in front of her, and it made her so uneasy, especially when he looked up, and the light caught those eyes, and they clashed with hers. “Looks like the gas is flowing. So I think we just need to click the ignition point up here.”

He straightened, and it made her feel dizzy.

“And just like that,” he said, pushing a button at the same time he turned the knob. “Flame.”

“Right,” she said.

Flame.

Her chest burned. Her stomach burned. Everything burned.

“Thank you,” she said, her voice sounding thin and breathless.

“You’re welcome.”

She backed away, and her boot caught on something on the floor, maybe a loose board, she didn’t know, but she found herself pitching backward, and then he reached out and grabbed hold of her arm, that large, strong hand steadying her, pulling her back up, keeping her from tumbling down to the ground.

“Hey there,” he said, that deep voice sending sparks over the surface of her skin. “Careful.”

Careful.

This didn’t feel careful. It felt dangerous.

She needed to be careful.

It would be so easy to take a step toward him...

So she took a step back.

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