Page 65 of The Fixer

“Exactly.”

She patted his hard shoulder. Wasn’t she the bold one, touching him with such familiarity? Then again, considering that his mouth had been mauling hers only moments before ... “Well, look at the bright side. You’re a douche, and I don’t want to go out with you. Therefore, you don’t need to take me next weekend. Problem solved.”

Oh no. His expression shifted into something downright evil. “But I said I’d take you, and you agreed, so I’m taking you.” He stuffed both hands in his pockets and bounced on the balls of his feet.

“But you don’t need to.”

“You heard Dixie. You’re my line of defense.” His voice rose to a drawling falsetto on the last three words.

“Defense against what? Becky won’t be there. Oh, wait. I’m sure other Charlie Hunnicutt fans will be, though, right?” She began laughing and couldn’t stop.

“What’s so funny?” he grumped.

“Nothing. Everything. This situation is so ridiculous. And the look on your face when you first walked in and spied Bea and Becky. And then when Dixie shoved me against you. No one could write this stuff! It’s so … so ludicrously comical!”

A thought struck: Could Lacey Dewinter spin this into something memorable? No, no one would believe it.

Charlie parked his hands on his hips. “Well, I’m glad you’re enjoying yourself, princess. Atmyexpense.”

Between her bouts of hysterics, she gasped, “W-would you stop calling me that?”

“Not unless you agree we’re still going.”

Her laughter subsided into a series of giggles. “All right, you’ve got a deal. We’ll go, but I’m still driving.” And damn if she suddenly wasn’t looking forward to it—against her better judgment.

Chapter 18

Discoveries

Charlie had been workingat Crystal Harmony Haven for a week, and this was one of the rare times Joy wasn’t there working on her laptop, tucked away in her bedroom—one of the few spaces still untouched. She’d gone over to Luanne’s, which he found a little weird. None of his business, though.

Oddly, he didn’t mind her being around. She’d loosened up enough that he could coax at least one laugh from her each day, which both tickled him and gave him a surge of pride. Sure, they bickered like an old married couple, but he had come to like the verbal sparring. Looked forward to it. He figured he was batting five hundred in their “debates,” which he counted as a win against someone like her. She was a spitfire who loved a challenge as much as he did, and he got a charge out of trying to best her. Loved watching the way her eyes burned bright when she thought she had him, and brighter still when she actually did get him. They reminded him of molten amber—and that kiss he couldn’t forget, when they had stared up at him, desire shimmering in their depths.

Things began to stir south of his belt.

“Damn it! Knock it off,” he muttered to himself. He’d been reliving that kisswaytoo much. “Focus on the damn job, not the damn client.”

The electrician he was working with today helped him do just that. “The lady who lives here—Joy?—she doesn’t mind us crawling all over the place, making a mess?”

“No, she’s cool,” Charlie replied absently. The guy nodded and turned back to what he’d been doing, namely chasing circuits.

Normally when Charlie did a tear-down, no one was living in the building. Having the homeowner there was a huge pain in the ass, and because Joy Holiday had been a huge pain in his ass since he’d met her almost two weeks prior, he had expected that pain to grow exponentially. But she was surprisingly easy to work around and took the inconveniences with a casual air that was completely contradictory to her nature. At least, he had thought it contradictory at first, but now he realized maybe he’d judged her too harshly.

Turn off the power for a few hours? “No problem,” she’d breeze. “I’ll go to Mountain Coffee.”

The water had to be shut off? “As long as you give me enough of a heads-up, I’m good.”

And when he was there working, she had an innate sense of when to get out of the way andstayout of the way. In other words, she didn’t hinder his efforts in the least.

Not at all what he’d expected. Like that kiss.

Focus, asshole.

Today he and the electrician were trying to trace the screwed-up wiring in the old store. Nothing he hadn’t done before. After decades of piecemeal upgrades by pros and DIYers alike—who often had no clue what they were doing—these places always reminded him of metal wire puzzles, linked together in a jumble you had to somehow separate in order to figure out how they were connected. Finally, the entire system was getting the twenty-first-century makeover it so desperately needed, one that would take it from a fire hazard to safe. That the place had never burned down was a miracle.

The electrician yelled at him from a different part of the building to check out the plugs in Joy’s bedroom.

“On it,” he hollered back and ducked into her room.

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