T-shirt had ridden up his torso. Before announcing her presence, she allowed herself a leisurely look at his tight stomach muscles covered with a dusting of dark hair. A sad commentary on her previous engagement if this glimpse of bare skin gave her a thrill. A loud thud interrupted her enjoyment.
“Damn it. The Devil himself take—”
“Hold on, Finnian Quaid,” Vena teased, “don’t be calling down Irish curses near this innocent English girl.”
Finn inched out of the cramped space far enough to glance from under a raised elbow. “Sorry.” He rubbed the back of his hand against his temple and grinned. “Morning. Your face is less swollen. How are you feeling?”
His comment made her suddenly self-conscious, and she fingered the skin under her eyes. “I found some antihistamines in the upstairs bathroom. Most of the swelling is gone, and I can breathe well enough. Thanks again for taking me back.”
“Couldn’t leave you outside in the cold.” Finn dipped his chin. “Are you here just to watch or do you need something?”
With a start, she wondered if he’d caught her ogling. “Is there an extra extension cord I can use?”
Extending the wrench he held, he pointed across the room. “Check that corner drawer next to the pantry or the top shelf of the hall closet.”
Vena rummaged through what must be a junk drawer, her gaze straying to his well-muscled thighs covered in faded blue jeans. Men with tools. An age-old tradition. Maybe she should consider this for one of her exhibit scenes. An image of Finn wearing a tool belt low on his hips like a gunslinger’s holster flashed through her mind. And if that holster was the only thing he wore…
Her heartbeat increased and warmed her from the inside out. Concentrate on your project . She had to swallow hard before speaking. “Not here. I’ll check the closet.” As soon as she left the room, she sagged against the hallway wall, pressing a hand to her thudding chest. This reaction proved beyond a doubt that she had never been in love with Nick. Sharing living space with Finn when her fantasies kept threatening to take over might prove impossible.
Ten minutes later, she reentered the kitchen and gazed at Finn’s muscled back and long legs as he leaned over the sink. Shifting his weight from one foot to the other caused solid muscles to flex under the soft denim. Her hands itched to cup those muscles, and a sigh escaped.
“That you, Elfie? Hey, hand me that pipe on the counter.”
Vena scrambled to grab the metal tube. If she wasn’t more careful, her gawking could make him change his mind about letting her stay. “This faucet assembly? Do you need the washers, too?”
In the transfer of the hardware, Finn’s fingers brushed hers, and she flinched. A few reactions like that in public, and no one would believe they were truly engaged.
“How’d you know what those are called?”
Leaning elbows on the counter and twirling a washer on a pinkie, she grinned. A safe topic of conversation. “I know my way around basic repairs. I do own a condo, you know.”
“Okay, Ms. Goodwrench, pass me the channel locks.” His eyes narrowed in challenge.
Bending to the metal box, she took only a moment to pick through the tools, pull out the right pliers, and pass them to his waiting hand.
“Not bad. Maybe you do have some experience.” He used the pliers to point at the faucet. “How about holding this while I tighten it?”
With a hip braced on the counter, she leaned over the sink and steadied the fixture. Heat emanated from the proximity of his body, and awareness flickered deep in her belly. Something basic and female wanted to soak him up. “What was wrong here?”
“Years of accumulated mineral deposits.” He twisted the wrench a few turns and paused. “The Elfie I remember sat back and watched. When did you become a doer?”
“You’re remembering the person I was ten years ago.” She laughed. “Paying for a plumber’s emergency call
“Damn it. The Devil himself take—”
“Hold on, Finnian Quaid,” Vena teased, “don’t be calling down Irish curses near this innocent English girl.”
Finn inched out of the cramped space far enough to glance from under a raised elbow. “Sorry.” He rubbed the back of his hand against his temple and grinned. “Morning. Your face is less swollen. How are you feeling?”
His comment made her suddenly self-conscious, and she fingered the skin under her eyes. “I found some antihistamines in the upstairs bathroom. Most of the swelling is gone, and I can breathe well enough. Thanks again for taking me back.”
“Couldn’t leave you outside in the cold.” Finn dipped his chin. “Are you here just to watch or do you need something?”
With a start, she wondered if he’d caught her ogling. “Is there an extra extension cord I can use?”
Extending the wrench he held, he pointed across the room. “Check that corner drawer next to the pantry or the top shelf of the hall closet.”
Vena rummaged through what must be a junk drawer, her gaze straying to his well-muscled thighs covered in faded blue jeans. Men with tools. An age-old tradition. Maybe she should consider this for one of her exhibit scenes. An image of Finn wearing a tool belt low on his hips like a gunslinger’s holster flashed through her mind. And if that holster was the only thing he wore…
Her heartbeat increased and warmed her from the inside out. Concentrate on your project . She had to swallow hard before speaking. “Not here. I’ll check the closet.” As soon as she left the room, she sagged against the hallway wall, pressing a hand to her thudding chest. This reaction proved beyond a doubt that she had never been in love with Nick. Sharing living space with Finn when her fantasies kept threatening to take over might prove impossible.
Ten minutes later, she reentered the kitchen and gazed at Finn’s muscled back and long legs as he leaned over the sink. Shifting his weight from one foot to the other caused solid muscles to flex under the soft denim. Her hands itched to cup those muscles, and a sigh escaped.
“That you, Elfie? Hey, hand me that pipe on the counter.”
Vena scrambled to grab the metal tube. If she wasn’t more careful, her gawking could make him change his mind about letting her stay. “This faucet assembly? Do you need the washers, too?”
In the transfer of the hardware, Finn’s fingers brushed hers, and she flinched. A few reactions like that in public, and no one would believe they were truly engaged.
“How’d you know what those are called?”
Leaning elbows on the counter and twirling a washer on a pinkie, she grinned. A safe topic of conversation. “I know my way around basic repairs. I do own a condo, you know.”
“Okay, Ms. Goodwrench, pass me the channel locks.” His eyes narrowed in challenge.
Bending to the metal box, she took only a moment to pick through the tools, pull out the right pliers, and pass them to his waiting hand.
“Not bad. Maybe you do have some experience.” He used the pliers to point at the faucet. “How about holding this while I tighten it?”
With a hip braced on the counter, she leaned over the sink and steadied the fixture. Heat emanated from the proximity of his body, and awareness flickered deep in her belly. Something basic and female wanted to soak him up. “What was wrong here?”
“Years of accumulated mineral deposits.” He twisted the wrench a few turns and paused. “The Elfie I remember sat back and watched. When did you become a doer?”
“You’re remembering the person I was ten years ago.” She laughed. “Paying for a plumber’s emergency call
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