Em narrowed her eyes at Garrett, but by contrast, her shoulders relaxed with the fact that she didn’t need her 911 call. She clicked the button to turn her phone screen off. “Hi?” She drew the word out in a question.
“I’m wondering if I can borrow a screwdriver? I haven’t made it far enough into my unpacking to find my toolbox. But I’d really like to sleep on something besides a mattress on the floor tonight, so I’m trying to put my bed together.” He smiled casually at her, and Em cursed her skipping heart.
It was only beating that fast because there could have been an ax murderer on the other side of her door.
“Uh, sure.” How did he not know where a screwdriver was? He was a construction guy… Didn’t he have a screwdriver in his back pocket pretty much always? But she wasn’t going to refuse to help him out just because he was apparently a bit scatterbrained. Or because he made her insides feel all squirmy. “Come in, and I’ll find it. But I warn you, I’m a blackbelt.”
Garrett stepped inside and closed the door behind him. “You’re also a bad liar, but I won’t hold it against you. Like I said, I’m a Boy Scout and have no intention of harming you. My primary goals in life are to help little old ladies cross the street and build perfect campfires.”
Em chuckled against her will.
“Ah ha! I got you to laugh again. I think I win some sort of prize or something.”
Her laughter cut off, and she became suddenly aware of how dark her living room was and how alone the two of them were.
Speaking of…
She reached out and flicked on the light as she crossed to the hall closet. She pulled the small tool bag off the bottom shelf and handed it to him. It was a pink set her brother-in-law had bought her—partly as a joke and partly because Jackson was the king of always being prepared—when she moved in. It looked surprisingly small as Garrett’s hand clasped the handle, the tendons flexing.
A hand that was inches from her own… because she’d forgotten to let go.
She coughed, unsuccessfully covering her embarrassment. “You can keep the whole set as long as you need. I won’t be putting any beds together anytime soon.”
“You sure? I could help.” He winked at her, and Em felt the back of her neck go hot. What the heck was wrong with her? Was she about to start her period early or something? Her hormones had to be out of whack for her to be reacting like this to a guy just because he was kinda cute.
Kinda. Even she didn’t believe her own choice of descriptor.
“Well, if that’s all you need…” She stepped back to the door, purposefully trying to lead him and his kinda cuteness out of her house.
Garrett laughed but started backing from the room. “Message received. Thanks!” He let himself out of the house, shooting her a smile over his shoulder as he pulled the door closed.
Em walked back to her room and fell face-first into her pillow.
At this point, she’d take the good old smothering if it shut her brain up.
Chapter 5
Garrett
Garrettclosedthedoorof his house behind him, then picked up his own screwdriver from the side table in the entryway. He flipped it once, grinning, then set it back down before heading to his room with Em’s pink tools.
He used the excuse of needing to borrow tools as a reason to go over to her house. The least he could do was actually use them.
He was halfway through putting the bed together when his phone rang.
“Hey,” he said.
His friend’s voice came through Garrett’s headphones. “I’ve got tickets for tomorrow night to see that band I told you about last week. Want to come?”
“Didn’t you say they were terrible last time you saw them in person?”
“Yeah,” Noah gave no reason for why he was willingly choosing to see them again.
Garrett chuckled. “Should I be flattered you’re inviting me or offended that I’m your last option?”
“Who said you were my last option? I love hanging out with you. Bro time. Wing men. The two—”
“Okay, okay, I get it, you couldn’t find a date.”