Page 36 of Fundamentals in Flirting

I nodded. How hard could this be?

Pulling out a power drill he inserted a long metal rod with a twirly end into the chuck, tightening a nut and giving it an exploratory whizz so that it spun around at an alarming speed. Satisfied, he turned it off and placed it next to a large black bucket. He began gathering various trowels and boards around him, before handing over some goggles and staring at me expectantly.

“Aren’t you going to mix the first batch?” I asked, putting on the goggles.

“No. Off you go.”

This felt like a practical skills assessment, the sort I’d been subjected to many a time at vet school. Feeling my prickles begin to resurface, my face contorted into its usual grimace of incredulity that seemed to be a regular feature in the presence of Teddy Fraser. I opened the plaster sack.

“You’re so cute when you scowl, you know.”

The teasing lilt to his voice was unmistakeable and the crease between my eyebrows deepened further.

Using the measuring jug, I angrily scooped the orangey dust into the black bucket, using another jug to slop equal amounts of water onto it. With trepidation, fingers grasping the heavy drill, I had to use both hands to aim the end of the mixing bit into the bucket. The on switch was an innocuous-looking grey button, but when I slid it along the barrel, the drill erupted like an angry Jack Russell terrier, shaking me violently until I let go with a yelp.

The next ten seconds occurred in slow motion. And it was a monumental horror show. Trust me.

The drill continued to vibrate at maximum speed. The bucket of plaster that encased it shuddered and shook across the floor as if taking part in some sort of primal dance. Both Teddy and I lurched forwards as the bucket began to tip. I was closer, and I managed to grab the drill again, but this didn’t really help. No, I just joined in the shaky dance-a-thon, desperately trying to switch it off as the bucket teetered and I fell backwards onto my arse, hoisting the spiralling drill aloft and splattering semi-mixed, watery plaster everywhere. Most notably pebble-dashing the entirety of Teddy’s face and chest with pinky-orange water, and globules of partially dissolved plaster.

Wiping his forearm over his goggles, he stalked towards me, glowering under the rapidly drying face pack he was wearing, and grabbed the still vibrating drill to turn it off.

I was trying desperately hard not to laugh. “Sorry.”

“Are you?”

“Yes. I didn’t expect the drill to vibrate so much. I’m used to using little ones for inserting pins and screws into animal bones.” I kept my hand over my mouth, trying to manually force the giggles back down my throat.

“You see, I’m not sure I believe you. At. All.” He discarded his goggles and I could see that his gaze had become dark, tanned skin forming an eye mask around his features, so that he looked as though he was some kind of cartoonish racoon villain.

A snort bubbled into my nose, which I tried to cover with a cough.

“Oh.”

Leisurely, Teddy bent over, holding out a hand as if to help me up, but when I reached to take it, he deftly moved to the side, grabbing a handful of sloppy plaster mix from the bottom of the bucket and dumping it on my head. He smeared it across my cheek and then stood back up and out of reach.

“Hey!”

In defiance, I reached into the bucket, sliding my fingers into the silky slop and lobbing a generous amount of it towards him, which landed with a satisfyingly wet thud in the centre of his chest.

He looked at the mess sliding down his clothes, then he smiled back up at me menacingly.

“You’re going to lose this one. You do know this, don’t you, Havens?”

I suddenly felt nervous. But my ever-helpful brain decided that bravado was the best course of action as I took off my goggles to see him better.

“Maybe you’ll be the one to regret it, Fraser.”

Yeah, why not poke the bear, Hannah? Good one.

He nodded thoughtfully. “That’s how you want to play it?”

I was still sitting on the floor, the plaster bucket closer to me than to him, when he crouched down to look me in the eye. Quick as a flash, I grabbed the bucket and threw the entire contents towards him, hooting with laughter as the remaining plaster mix coated his groin and thighs. Teddy gasped and fell backwards as his ripped jeans absorbed the cool mixture, which had the consistency of a lumpy milkshake. From the surprised and slightly disgusted look on his face, I assumed it was soaking through to his underwear.

Goal!

His returning glare was stony. Frowny. Lips a bit pouty. Without hesitation, I scrambled to my feet, sprinting out of the bedroom and across the landing. Self-preservation was kicking in and adrenaline began to bound wildly as I heard him make chase. Before I had got far, an arm wrapped around my waist, and I was lifted high into the air and thrown over a very well-muscled shoulder.

“Put me down!” I yelled, screaming with hysterical laughter.

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