Page 46 of Marked

“Oh.” I shifted, trying to keep the towel in place and probably just drawing more attention to it. “So the water stopping while you’re mowing near the water main is just…”

“Coincidence.” He growled the word. His hands flexed at his sides, and sweet baby Jesus, were those actual claws? No, definitely not. Just… very sharp… nail… things…

Note to self: Stop watching horror movies before bed. Also, maybe lay off the caffeine. And possibly seek therapy.

I took a step back. Or tried to. My wet feet had other ideas, sliding on the dewy grass, and suddenly I was falling—

Strong arms caught me before I hit the ground, and I found myself pressed against a wall of muscle. The towel, treacherous thing that it was, gave up the fight entirely. And there I was, naked as the day I was born, plastered against Cedar Grove’s answer to a military recruitment poster.

“Careful, little mate.”

My brain short-circuited. Little what now?

“I mean,” he corrected roughly but didn’t let go. If anything, his arms tightened, one hand spanning my entire lower back while the other… was definitely not moving to find the towel. “The grass is slippery.”

“Right.” I was still pressed against his chest, which was unfairly firm and radiating heat like a furnace. Shampoo ran down my face in what I’m sure was a very attractive manner. “This is… this is not how I planned my morning to go. Though honestly, at this point, I should probably just expect the unexpected. Yesterday it was lawyers, today it’s tactical landscaping. Tomorrow there’ll probably be a unicorn in my kitchen.”

Was he sniffing my hair?

“Derek Stone,” he rumbled, and yes, he was sniffing me. Because this situation needed to get weirder. “Maintenance.”

“Of course you are.” Because obviously he was a Stone. They probably had a secret cloning facility somewhere, producing unreasonably attractive men to torture my apparently gay disaster soul. “I’m—”

“Kai.” The way he said my name should be illegal. “I know.”

Well, that wasn’t ominous at all.

“Right. So…” I gestured vaguely at my very naked self, still somehow in his arms. “I should probably… clothes… those are a thing I should have.”

His chest rumbled against mine. Was he purring? No, growling. Again. Maybe he had a medical condition. A very attractive, terrifying medical condition.

“The water,” he finally managed, though his eyes hadn’t moved from where a droplet was making its way down my collarbone. “It’s the old pipes. Need replacing.”

“Okay, but like, today? Because I’m currently rocking the ‘partially shampooed disaster’ look and while I’m sure it’s very avant-garde, I’d really like to—”

“My place.”

I blinked. “I’m sorry, what?”

“Shower,” he growled out, finally releasing me but staying close enough that I could feel his body heat. “At my place. While I fix this.”

Oh, hell no. “That’s… very neighborly of you, but I don’t actually make a habit of showering at strange men’s houses. Even very large, surprisingly well-armed maintenance men.”

Something that might have been amusement flickered in those impossible eyes. “Not strange. Derek Stone.”

“Yes, because that makes it so much better. ‘Don’t worry, Mom. I’m just going to shower at the house of the tactical landscaper who knows my name and growls a lot.’ Totally normal.”

He actually smiled then, just a quick flash of white teeth that did nothing to make him less intimidating. “Marcus and Caleb will be there.”

Because that made it better? “Ah yes, the whole collection of suspiciously attractive Stone brothers. Much more reassuring.”

“You had dinner with Caleb.”

“That was different!” Though how, exactly, I wasn’t sure. “That was in public. With witnesses. And fully clothed.”

He growled again.

“Look,” I tried reasoning, “I can just… wait. Until it’s fixed. Air dry. Become one with nature.”

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