Page 74 of 10 Ways to Accidentally Fall in Love

“You’re right,” he says, running a finger over the flaking wood. “It’s in pretty bad shape, huh? How do you even repair something like this?”

“Sand it down,” I explain, setting my bag on the floor. “Hopefully, the wood itself is in good enough condition that we can simply repaint it after.”

“So Iwillget to play with your hardwood,” he jokes, spinning my way, only to practically fall over his own feet. His eyes shoot impossibly wide, his gaze settling on my tool belt. “Joey.”

“You did ask to see my hammer,” I say, patting the tool at my hip.

Brad lets out an airy, “Yeah. Yep. It, uh…looks good. Very girthy. And stiff.”

I huff a laugh and pull it free. “Here.”

“You want me to hold it?” he asks, voice high.

“If you want. I’ll loosen the panels, and you can pry them free.”

“While you…wear that,” Brad says, gingerly taking the hammer from my grip.

“While I wear my tool belt, yes.”

My lips twitch as Brad continues to stare. The fact that he’s not even trying to hide his newfound interest is a heady fucking thing.

“Remember what I said before?” I ask.

He meets my eye, cheeks a little flushed. “Um. Which thing? You’ve said a lot.”

“I’m safe,” I remind him. “You cantrywith me. Touch me. Do whatever you want with me.”

His cheeks darken. “Whatever I want?”

“Within limits,” I amend.

“Right,” he says a little roughly. “No watersports.”

I chuckle, taking a step closer. Brad tracks the movement, his breathing picking up. “What I mean, bub, is that you’re looking at me like I’m your favorite dessert. If you want to take a bite, you can.”

He lets loose a breath before closing the scant distance between us and tugging me in by the back of my neck. Our lips crash together, both of us taking a single second to breathe, and then Brad’s hand is in my hair, and mine are on his hips, holding him steady or maybe holdingmyselfsteady. He kisses the same way he does everything. Enthusiastically. He’s light and playful, lips toying with me almost, but underneath it all is a buzzing current of wonder I can feel in the way he jolts when our chests brush together. Can feel it in his soft moan as his fingers drift down to my neck and shoulders, as if he’s mapping the shapeof me. I can feel it in his breathy exhalation as my own hands, surely bigger than his partners’ before, settle at the small of his back.

This is new for him. Exciting. And it makes it all the more clear to me how damn lucky I am to be the one he chose in the first place.

I won’t ever abuse that trust. Not ever. Not even if, when all is said and done, Brad goes on his way. Without me.

The thunk of the hammer against the floorboards has both of us jolting. Brad huffs a laugh, our faces still close, his eyes feathering open and latching on to me. “Sorry. Lost my grip.”

I give the sides of his waist a squeeze before stepping back and picking up the hammer. “Might want to keep a firmer hand on your tool,” I tell him, passing it over.

He snorts, eyes drifting down over me before he faces the wainscoting. He clears his throat several times. “So, uh…show me how this thing is done?”

With a nod and a quick adjustment of my tool belt, I grab a chisel and a mallet and start loosening the boards. Brad follows after me, using the claw of the hammer to tug the nails free and then lightly knocking the panels loose after I demonstrate the process for him. He has a smile on his face the entire time we work, and when I point out the nails he’s removing are called brads, he gleefully starts making jokes.

“Fuck, that brad was tight. Really had to wiggle my way in.”

“Heh. Wanna watch me hammer myself?”

“Hello, brad. I’m Brad. Prepare to meet your doom, as there can only be one.”

I wonder if he’d prefer a spring or fall wedding.

It only takes fifteen minutes for us to strip the wainscoting from the walls. Afterwards, Brad helps me lug the panels outside. I set up my corded sander as he watches on.

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