She moved out of his arms and into the kitchen, then started to move things around.
“Not much,” he said. “I need to run to the store. I was going to do it today but got held up.”
“I can go next door and get ground beef and a jar of sauce if you want to start boiling water. A quick ragu over pasta can be done in about twenty minutes.”
“Sounds like the best meal I’ve had in ages,” he said. Because he was going to do it with someone rather than for them.
14
HAD A CONNECTION WITH
“Looks like you’ve got a problem,” Laurel said on Friday. She’d knocked on the backdoor as Easton had told her to do. When he shouted to come in, she did and saw the water on the floor, the dishwasher door open and paper towels everywhere.
“You think?” he asked dryly.
“Do you need help?”
“I don’t want you to get your shoes wet,” he said.
“It’s fine,” she said. Her boots had rubber soles on them, the heel not too big. They were more on the chunky style and she found they were fun to wear. She rolled her jeans up some, thankful they were looser on the bottoms. No reason to get them wet though.
She started to pick up the wet paper towels. They were nothing but a soggy mess on the floor.
He had a garbage bag in his hand and she was filling it. “I went up to shower and came down to this mess.”
His hair was a little damp. She’d bet he was one to just run a towel through it and then comb it. He didn’t have a tight short cut like she’d expect some attorneys to have and she hadto remind herself that there was no reason for her to keep going down that road.
But he did have a style like that on the website he showed her, so she had to remember that looks meant nothing.
He was the person she had a connection with and that was all that mattered.
“Not a good way to start the night,” she said. Once she had the paper towels picked up and he was throwing more towels on the floor, she moved over to look in the dishwasher. There was still a bunch of water in there.
“I’m sure it’s clogged,” she said.
“That is my thought.”
“Get me a cup and I’ll start to get the water out and we’ll see.”
“No,” he said. “We can let it go and I’ll take care of it when we get back. I just can’t leave all this water on the floor.”
“Nonsense,” she said. “I know how to fix a dishwasher. I’ve done it a few times.” He started to laugh at her. “I’m serious. Or is your manhood going to be insulted if I can do this?”
“Nope,” he said. “I’m pretty sure you can do anything you put your mind to.”
“Then I’m going home to change and you can order pizza. Date night.”
He just stood there staring at her. “You’re joking, right?”
“No, I’m not,” she said. “Shit happens in life. This is one of those times. We can go out to dinner another night. I’ll fix this for you and we’ll clean this mess up. There is no reason to go out and have you distracted over this. It’s not your house and you’ll be bothered.”
He let out a sigh. “Thanks,” he said. “I will. Not so much about the dishwasher being broken, but the water damage and if more leaks out while I’m gone. Back home, I’d just call maintenance.”
“Maintenance?” she asked. “You rent?”
“Go get changed and come back to help me, then we can talk about it more.”
“Sure,” she said. She went back out the door, dashed across his lawn, his driveway, her driveway and into the backdoor that she rarely used.