Page 9 of Trouble with the Mountain Man
Indeed she has. A plate of bacon and eggs waits beside the coffee pot, still warm. The simple thoughtfulness of it hits me harder than it should.
“Figured a big guy like you needed something more than Frosted Flakes,” she says sheepishly.
"Thank you," I say, accepting the coffee she hands me. Our fingers brush, and the memory of last night's kiss flares between us.
"How did you sleep?" she asks, a slight blush coloring her cheeks.
"Fine." A lie. Her couch is too short for my frame, and I spent most of the night listening for sounds of further disasters while trying not to think about her sleeping just down the hall.
"River McKinnon is coming by at nine," I continue. "Plumber friend of mine. He'll give you a fair price on the pipe replacement."
"River?" Ally perks up. "Funny name."
"His parents had a sense of humor," I explain. "He's good people, though. Won't charge you for work you don't need."
Maple nods, relief evident. "What about the ceiling?"
"I can handle that. Drywall, paint, new light fixture. Week's work, maybe less."
"I can't ask you to—"
"You're not asking. I'm offering."
Our eyes meet across the makeshift kitchen, understanding passing between us. This isn't just about repairs anymore. This is about building something together, creating a foundation that goes deeper than stone.
River arrives exactly at nine, a stocky man with calloused hands and an easy smile. He surveys the damage with professional detachment, making notes and measurements.
"Galvanized pipes throughout?" he asks.
I nod. "Original to the house.”
"Miracle they lasted this long." He turns to Maple. "Honest recommendation? Replace all of it. Copper or PEX. You're looking at failure in other sections within the next few years anyway."
Maple's face falls at the implied cost. "Just the immediate problem for now," she says quietly.
"Actually," I interrupt, "what would full replacement run?"
River names a figure that's reasonable for the work involved. Maple shakes her head immediately.
"I can't afford that."
"What if we did it in stages?" I suggest. "Main lines first, branches later. Spread the cost over time."
"Flint, I appreciate what you're trying to do, but—"
"What if I told you I needed the practice?"
Both Maple and River stare at me. River's eyebrows climb toward his hairline.
"Practice?" Maple asks.
"Expanding my services. Stone work, basic plumbing, electrical. One-stop renovation contractor." The lie comes easily, supported by just enough truth to be believable. "River supervises, I do the labor. You get wholesale pricing on materials and reduced labor costs."
"That's..." Maple looks between us, clearly seeing through my story but touched by the gesture. "That's very generous."
"Good business," I correct. "You tell your friends about the quality work, I get more customers."
River catches on quickly. "Makes sense. Flint's got the hands for it. And I could use someone reliable for larger jobs."
