Page 5 of Debt of My Soul

“Through here is the living room.” I follow him as he moves into the living space with a brick fireplace and several hanging lights that have lost their luster. The ceilings are high, but the paint and plaster are chipped.

We continue through the country-style kitchen, master bed and bath, and a downstairs bathroom before making our way up to the two other wallpapered guestrooms.

Every step on the stairs creaks to a tune that sounds like “Twinkle Twinkle Little Star,” but Adam gazes around the space with awe and determination.

With the tour over, we head back to the kitchen, and I pour us each a glass of lemonade.

Adam raises his glass to me. “To breathing new life into this place.”

I meet his glass with a quiet clink and smile over my glass at him. “I was worried you might give me the sad news that this was too much of a project.”

He grins at me, tossing a thumb over his shoulder. “Nah, this old thing. She has great potential. Maybe a bit much for a first-time DIYer, though.”

I huff out a laugh. “How do you know it’s my first time?”

“I could tell by the way you were looking at the plumbing section at the store like it wronged you.”

I nod and set my glass on the counter next to the sink. Adam moves over to open the cabinets below and I catch a whiff of his earthy masculine scent, letting my eyes close for a second too long in appreciation.

“Is it just leaking?”

I jolt, blinking at him. “Yeah. I think the P trap needs to be replaced.”

He smirks at me and gestures below the sink. “I’d say most of this drainage system needs to be replaced. Are you planning to replace the sink during the renovation?”

The vintage porcelain glimmers under the golden hour sun creeping through the window above it. I had every intention of restoring it and using it in my final kitchen.

“No. I’d like to keep it. But I plan to replace the countertops, so it’ll have to come out, right?”

“Yeah. How about this?” He withdraws his head out from under the sink and bangs it against the underside of the counter. I grimace, but he doesn’t seem fazed. “Why don’t I get the sink working for you to use? I’ll save swapping out everything until the new counters are down and the sink is ready to be permanently in place.”

It sounds like a plan. It sounds like he knows what he’s doing and needs a project. But …

“I, uh, I don’t have the money for a contractor right now. I start my new job on Monday and would be happy to pay you to fix the sink, but I’m not sure I can commit to the large-scale project.” I dip my face, trying to avoid his eyes.

Bulky work boots enter where I stare at the floor and his foot taps mine until my gaze lifts to meet his. Dark blue circles I hadn’t noticed before line underneath his eyes. His dark hair is tussled after running a hand through it, and a spark of defeat flickers in his expression.

“I’m trying to make some extra money right now. Some … things have come up, and I’m having trouble getting work. I can work out a payment plan with you, and I’ll be willing to help anytime you need. Call if you get stuck on a particular part.” He chuckles, then drags both of his hands over his thigh before he shoves them into his pockets and backpedals away.

“Oh, uh, okay,” I say, trying to gauge my minor discomfort at his assertiveness. Flashes of a contractor burying his victims in drywall flicker in my mind, and I mentally slap myself for going back to the horror movie delusion.

He probablyisin desperate need of a job and seeing how there aren’t too many renovations in this dusty small town, he’s probably trying to snag the job before I search for anyone else.

My parents always told me I was the opposite of assertive. A doormat through and through, apparently—thank you, Chris.Jerk.

Salespeople fluster me, and I’m always the “yes” person. Never quite figured out how to say no. But leaving Michigan … that was putting my foot down.

Anxiety squeezes my stomach and I fiddle with the rubber bands at my wrist.

“How does next Saturday sound?” Adam prompts me with a wide grin as we walk toward the door.

“Uh, sure.”

Only I’m not sure. I’m unsure what I’m agreeing to. But I know I need my sink fixed, and this man seems competent and nice enough to handle it for me. I can always use my credit card for a while.

“Great. I’ll get everything and be by around nine next weekend.” He offers me a wink and heads to the door. I lean against the patched-up doorframe as he strides to his truck and pulls away.

“Looks like we might get you fixed up yet,” I say, rubbing a hand on the rough exterior of the threshold. I hope I’m talking about more than just the house.

---