Blue-Collar Boys - Repairs & Maintenance (Book 2: Steamy Erotic Romance Stories) by Aria Hawthorne Page A

her bedroom.  Suddenly, Lydia forgot she was in her pajamas, and instead, she reached out for the styrofoam cup like she was a child reaching out for a lost toy.  Bruno passed it off to Lydia, and he watched as she slurped down the drink, its steam misting her china doll cheeks.  And for a brief moment, it felt like the most natural thing in the world—fresh coffee in bed, served through her bedroom window by an unfamiliar man in a tree.
    “I love Dunken Donuts coffee,” she whispered, swallowing a heavy gulp before wiping her mouth with her sleeve.
    “I can see that,” Bruno grinned.
    Lydia glanced down; Bruno was perched, thirty-feet in the air.  The heavy tree branch jetted out from the trunk like a canon, and there was nothing but sky above and grass below. “How did you get it up here?”
    “One of my many hidden talents.”  Bruno sat down and crossed his boots at his ankles, wagging his feet back and forth, enjoying the freedom of time and space.  Unhooked from his safety harness, he was completely unencumbered.  Lydia glanced over at his orange rigging lines.  Their slack draped down in vertical loops against the tree trunk, but the binders and pulleys remained camouflaged by the canopy of leaves.
    “You shouldn’t take so many risks,” she said.  “You could get hurt.”
    “And you should take more risks.  You might not get hurt.”
    Bruno smiled with sly delight.  He was clearly making fun of her, but this time, Lydia didn’t seem to mind.  Bruno watched her take another swig of her coffee, and gauged her temperament.
    “So…what do you think about lunch later?”
    Lydia pulled the coffee from her lips, and handed it back to him. “No, thank you.”
    “Oh, come on,” Bruno moaned. “Keep the coffee, please.  And don’t play so hard to get.  It’s just lunch.”
    “No, I’m sorry.  I can’t.”
    “Why?  Your boyfriend won’t mind…” Bruno was both joking and testing her.
    “That’s not the reason.  I don’t leave the house.”
    Bruno looked at her sidelong, wondering if she was serious.  His heart-shaped chin shifted towards the sunlight.  Lydia caught her reflection in his sunglasses.  She looked thin and pale, more so than she realized, and she suddenly felt ashamed.
    “You don’t leave the house?” He cracked his gum.  She was playing hard to get.
     “That’s correct.”
    “What if there’s a fire?”
    Lydia stared at him, blankly.  Then, she realized he was doing it again—making fun of her—and she quickly moved to shut the window.
    “Ah, come on, come on….” Bruno’s strong hand wedged itself under the window frame.  “I’m just playing, that’s all.  Don’t be like that.”
    Lydia pulled away, drawing herself back into her bedroom.  She could list all the reasons why she never left the house—starting all the way back in seventh grade when she let Bryan Black go up her shirt in the back of the bus and he mocked her for wearing a training bra—and ending two weeks ago, the last time Lydia left her house and almost got run over by a UPS truck that jumped the curb when it made a narrow right turn.  Outside, everything was painfully unpredictable, including Lydia’s own emotions.  But inside—Lydia was safe.
    “Okay, no really…. Tell me.  Why don’t you leave the house?”  Bruno sipped his coffee and wagged his boots.  He gazed at her with sincere curiosity and compassion.
    Still, Lydia knew Bruno wouldn’t understand.  Someone like Bruno didn’t have inhibitions or insecurities, much less neurotic phobias reinforced over a lifetime.  Instead, he was bold and rebellious, as if he thrived on living his life beyond fear.
    “Because I’m not like you.” It was the only thing she had the strength to say.
    “Well, is that all?” Bruno countered, lifting himself up to his feet.  He teetered along the tree branch like it was a balance beam. “You mean, you’re not handsome, charming, and exceedingly interested in girls