Page 8 of Mr. Fix-It

Juno’s face turns the same shade of purple as the Montepulciano. “I don’t know. You’re just a little older.”

“And a little sluttier?” I raise my brow, feeling comfortable enough to challenge her.

“I didn’t say that.” She crosses her arms over her chest. Damn, I want to kiss her billowing cleavage. “I guess I justassumed.” She stops herself. “So why isn’t a silver fox like you taken? If you’re not a man-whore, what’s wrong with you?”

I press my knee against hers, leaning across the table. “Why does anything have to be wrong with me? Not everyone gets married at the same time.” I picture her in a white dress, walking down the aisle to be mine for the rest of our lives. She nibbles on her lower lip.

“Did you ever come close?”

“Nope.” I shake my head.

“Would you ever…” Her voice a whisper.

“With the right woman?” Her eyes search mine. “Abso-fucking-lutely.”

My heartbeat rattles my ribcage, body heat rising. I mean this. I would absolutely marry Juno and claim her as my wife until one of our hearts stops beating and even after.

“What about you?” I ask.

“Um…get married?” She sucks her bottom lip between her teeth. The silence between us presenting instant regret for the question.

“That’s not fair. You’re probably too young to even be thinking about it.”

“Calder.” God, the way she says my name makes my cock rock hard. “I’m not that young, and I’m certainly old enough to know what I want.”

“And?”

Her face cracks into a smile that’s pure sunshine. “And with the right man?” She pours herself another glass of wine before meeting my eyes. “Abso-fucking-lutely.”

Chapter Seven

Juno

Did Calder just ask me to marry him? In the bathroom, I press a hand to my mouth, suppressing a laugh. Of course not, but things did get a little intense. I give my reflection a final glance and head back into the living room. Calder’s back is to me, spectacularly broad and muscular. Even his t-shirt can’t hide his brawn. He’s the sexiest man I’ve ever met.

He turns to me, his arctic eyes finding mine. “I hope you like yacht rock.” He holds up a Hall and Oates album completely unironically.

“Stop.” I rush over to him, taking the LP out of his hands. “Is this a real record?”

“Supposedly physical media is making a comeback.”

“According to the kids?” I regret it the moment I say it. Calder shrugs his massive shoulders. He’s moved our wine glasses to the coffee table near the couch. I kick off my shoes and snuggle up, tucking my feet beneath me while a song about a gal named Sarah plays from the speakers.

Calder sits near me, but not too close. We enjoy the crackling sounds of the record on his state-of-the-art sound system. The record may be old, but his speakers seem brand new. The entire song plays as we sit in silence, enjoying the moment.

“I could get used to this.”

“Hm?”

Oh fuck my life, did I just say that out loud?

“Just this house, this cozy aesthetic. This whole…” I trace circles in the air. “Vibe.” Maybe it’s the wine, but I’m feeling bold. “I’ve been on a lot of dates recently since I’ve moved back.” Calder shifts uncomfortably. “But, none of them have felt this…easy.” I realize my mistake. “Not that I think this is a date.”

“What do you think it is, Juno?” Calder’s baritone voice reverberates through every bone in my body. I’m afraid to look at him. But I came here with a firm objective.

“I don’t know, Calder.” I shift my body to face him. “I feel like we have a connection.” My words arrive slowly, disjointed. “But I’m confused as to if we should act on it.”

“Why?” He moves closer.

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