Page 23 of The Billionaire Experience

She poked her head out to look up at him. “Do you have a pipe wrench?”

“Yes!” He was excited to answer in the affirmative. He didn’t have a pizza cutter, but he had a pipe wrench. Go figure.

He set his beer bottle aside to rifle through his shiny red toolbox and then handed the wrench over.

“Thanks.” She tilted her head like she was impressed.

“Where did you live before you lived with your friend?”

“Here.”

“As in Merriweather Springs?”

“Uh, yes. Mostly. I also shared a house with a guy…friend.”

Now they were getting somewhere. “Guy friend or boyfriend?”

There was a pause, and then, “He should have been the former but was unfortunately the latter. Who do you live with?”

“I’m a lone wolf.”

“Except when your sister’s in town.”

“Except then.”

She flipped to her back while she continued to work. Her subtle curves were all woman while doing the typically masculine task. Who knew what a turn-on that could be?

“Have you ever had a roommate?” she asked with effort in her voice as she adjusted something.

“Are you going to show me what you’re doing under there?” he asked rather than answer her question.

She peeked out at him again. “You really want to see what I’m doing?”

“Reagan, it’s not like me not to take the initiative.”

“What about your house manager who handles everything?”

She liked busting his balls. Which he found oddly appealing. “I’m talking about my projects. This is hands-on.”

One of her eyebrows quirked. Hot and cute. A lethal combo. He squatted down, resting his elbows on his knees. “It’s like this. I’m keeping an eye out for life lessons while I’m here.”

“And you think you’ll find the meaning of life inside this cabinet?” She grinned, giving him hell and enjoying doing it.

He grinned back. “You never know.”

“Come on in, then.” She rolled onto one hip to make room for him.

He crammed the upper half of his body under the cabinet, where there were pipes and a garbage disposal nestled in the tight quarters. “Now what?”

“I have to attach the sink.” She pointed to two spoke thingies. “I’ll need my electric drill unless you have one. After that, I’ll hook up the garbage disposal and make sure these are tight…” Her gaze strayed to his. “You’re not paying attention.”

Oh, he was paying attention, but not to the tangle of pipes under the sink. To her. She was girl-next-door beautiful in cotton and denim, her wavy blond hair tucked behind one ear. The faint scent of lemon permeated the air, either from her or the remnants of cleaning products that had been stored there. The combination was unexpectedly sexy.

Which was why he asked, “Ever kissed a stranger under a sink before?”

She licked her bottom lip, making him want to lean in and do the same. “I can’t say I’ve kissed anyone—stranger or not—under a sink.” She studied their surroundings. “Not very romantic.”

“Ah, who needs romance?” It was a throwaway statement, but she didn’t take it that way.

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