Page 40 of Single-Minded
“He had to stop by another job site, some emergency.” Nate smiles, all six foot four of him casually leaning up against the frame of my door. “So I volunteered.”
“Thanks,” I say. “Um… that was really nice of you.” I lose my concentration, mesmerized by his eyes for a second. Or maybe seven hours. I have no way of knowing. It’s like being abducted by aliens and dropped back in the exact same location you were snatched from.
“Are we doing some painting today?” he asks.
“How’d you know that?” He reaches out and gently pulls a fleck of red paint from my hair. His hand so near my face makes my heart race. I can feel myself blushing and hope he doesn’t notice.
“Lucky guess.”
I invite him in and he follows me toward the kitchen. As we walk, I realize I have splatters of paint on my toes and all over my arms, and who knows where else. Michael always says it’s a personality paradox that I’m such a messy painter—everything else about me is organized, color-coded, and alphabetized.
“I just need a pet door installed. Here’s the door to the garage,” I say, then point to the large box on my kitchen counter. “There’s the cat door.”
“No problem,” he says, “it shouldn’t take too long. I’ll let you get back to your painting.”
“Thanks. Do you need anything?” I ask. “Screwdriver, glass of water, box cutter?”
Ahem. Bicep massage?
“Nope, I’m good,” he says, “I’ve got everything I’ll need in the Jeep.”
“Okay, I’ll leave you to it.” He heads back toward the front door and I return to my painting. He’s back inside a few minutes later, banging around in the kitchen.
I’m way up on the ladder, taping off the built-ins, when I first hear the sound. Nate is laughing, deep and loud enough to hear clearly all the way to the other end of the house. What in the world could be so funny about a cat door?
Stepping down from the ladder, I return to the kitchen. There’s Nate, the Adonis in a tool belt, standing in front of the kitchen counter where I’d put the box with the cat door—doubled over with laughter, cracking up so hard his whole body is shaking. His amusement is infectious, and I begin to smile before I even know what is happening. I step around his tall frame to see what’s so funny.
Oh… Fuck. It’s the gigantic, brightly labeled, economy-size, mortifyingly extensive, multicolored selection of condoms—courtesy of Darcy. I’d forgotten all about them.
My hand flies to my mouth, my skin burning with humiliation. Jumping around Nate, I push the box off the breakfast bar to the floor, where it lands with a loud thud—as though the fact that it’s no longer on the counter might erase it from his memory entirely.
“Oh my God,” I stutter, trying to spit out some plausible explanation that might make the situation less mortifying. “I don’t know what to… it’s just… it was a joke from a girlfriend… I sort of got divorced last week.” Jesus Alex,stop talking.
“Don’t sweat it.” Nate grins. “That’s the exact same box I buy.”
Ew. “Really?”
“No, I was just joking, trying to make you feel better.”
“Not possible unless that joke comes with a shot of tequila.”
And maybe a foot massage.
“That can be arranged.” He smiles. “You could stock up a truck stop for a year with a box that size.”
“I know. My friend Darcy is quite the comedienne.”
He starts randomly opening kitchen cabinet doors until he hits pay dirt. I’m too mortified to be bothered by the intrusion. Two shot glasses and a half-empty bottle of tequila. My instinct is to stop him, and send him away, but then I think,why the hell not? I’m divorced and a hot guy handy with power tools wants to drink tequila with me.
“Why do you need to drink?” I laugh. “I’m the one dying of humiliation here.”
“Trust me,” he says. “I’m scarred for life. Besides, I can’t let you drink alone.”
34
Two shots of tequila later we decide to order a pizza. Nate installs Morley’s cat door while we wait for the delivery guy from Solorzanos to arrive. It always takes forever but it’s worth it.Soooworth it.
There’s a part of me that wants to hang out in the kitchen and just watch Nate work, but the tequila and his cheekbones have begun to go to my head and I don’t want to say anything stupid. Well, anything else.
