Page 13 of Resorting to Romance

“I can rest tomorrow.” Kai assures me. “You have guests and Noah. Go. Lie down. I will wake you when the sprayer is fixed, before I leave to go home.”

His hand never leaves my shoulder until I nod, against my own will. Then, without another word to one another, Kai heads out the back door of the kitchen, and I walk toward the couch in our main living room. I imagine I won’t sleep at all, but somehow, after rearranging myself a few times, I must fall asleep, because I wake to the sound of Kai shouting in the kitchen. I spring up off the couch, slightly disoriented, wondering if I imagined the yelling, until he shouts again.

It’s actually more a series of yelps and repeated outbursts of “No!” and “Agh!”

When I open the kitchen door, I burst into laughter at the sight of Kai, chasing down the spray hose which is flipping all over while water comes out the end that now has no spray head on it whatsoever. It’s like he’s the substitute snake-charmer, his first day on the job, and the snake is having a heyday while Kai tries to catch it. Water is spraying out in all directions like it did just before I called Kai, only this time there’s no nozzle on the end of the hose, so it’s worse.

I walk toward the sink without a second thought, hoping to help him grasp the hose. As soon as I’m a few feet away from Kai, I realize my mistake. Water sprays across me in a jet stream and then back the other direction as the hose flips and wiggles from the pressure of the spray coming out of it.

I gasp, drawing Kai’s attention to my arrival. He backs up, bumping the back of his head on an open top cabinet door. He shouts, “Agh!” And then he reaches past the hose and twists the lever, switching the water flow to the faucet, effectively stopping the spray. The hose droops, defeated at last.

Kai’s eyes meet mine. His shirt is soaked through, his hair wet, but he’s grinning and his eyes are crinkling at the edges.

I grab a few of the towels I had left on the table across the room and hand them over to Kai so he can dry off. My foot hits a slick spot on the floor, and I lose my footing. Kai reaches out and grabs my forearm to steady me and I wobble forward, ending up flush against him in his arms.

I glance up to see an expression of sincere concern on Kai’s face. But that only lasts a few seconds before something snaps between us and we both lose it, laughing hysterically. Kai drops my arms and I step back, fighting and losing against waves of uncontrollable giggles. Tears leak out my eyes and stream down my cheeks. It’s the kind of laughter that overtakes you when you’re slap-happy and exhausted, overwhelmed and finally at a breaking point. I could be crying, but instead, I’m barely catching my breath between gasps of laughter.

Kai finally speaks. “Mila. Didn’t you say you turned off the water?”

“I did.”

Kai looks at me, his hair soaking wet, T-shirt glued to his torso, see-through in places, and dripping. His mouth breaks into a full smile, showing off his white teeth in contrast to his tan skin. The sides of his face crinkle around his eyes.

“I don’t think we’d get this kind of force if the water were off.”

I shake my head. He’s right.

“I’ll go check.” I stand, nearly slipping again in another puddle surrounding me.

“I’ll double check the lever and put a bucket under the hose,” Kai says. “Then I’ll meet you out there.”

Using my phone’s flashlight, I make my way down the back steps and along the side of the house to the spot where all the controls for the sprinklers and water and gas are located. When I reach for the knob I turned before, I see it clearly: the engraved sign I placed over the faucet.Sprinkler Shut-Off.

The back kitchen door clatters shut and Kai walks toward me.

“Sprinklers are shut off. Just in case we needed that.” I raise both my eyebrows and my hands in a show of apology.

“No worries,” Kai says in a gentle voice. Then he chuckles and our combined laughter fills the darkness around us.

“I’ll just turn off the water main and put that new head on. Then we just have to mop up the rest of the water.”

“No. I’ll do the mopping. You’ve done plenty.”

“Many hands make light work. That’s what my dad always said, anyway. I’m not leaving ’til the kitchen is ready for you to prep breakfast. Don’t be stubborn, Mila. I’m here. Let me help you.”

His hand is on my shoulder again. And we’re facing one another, the moonlight playing off our features, making Kai appear unrecognizable and then familiar. A shiver courses through me.

“Are you cold?” he asks me.

“No. Just … yeah. Probably a little. Let’s get busy with the kitchen.”

Kai fixes the spray head, tests it, and tells me we’re good to go. While he does all that, I gather the towels and throw them in the wash. When I come back into the kitchen from the laundry, he’s grabbed the mop from the cleaning closet and insists on being the one to finish mopping the floor. Between the two of us we work in silence for about a half hour. It’s comfortable and yet I’m fighting the urge to send Kai home. He’s done plenty. Once the mop is stored and the towels are switched to the dryer, I walk him to the front door.

“Thank you again, for everything.”

“Anytime. You know that. Besides, I haven’t laughed that hard in too long.”

His eyes flit down over me and back to my face. “Well, I’d better go. You need to clean up and get some rest. I’ll stop by tomorrow to double check that everything’s good.”

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