Page 16 of Grin and Bear It

“What?” I couldn’t make sense of what I’d just heard.

“Give me your address,” Nash said again. “I haven’t had too many beers so I’m right to drive. I'm a licensed plumber, among other things. So while I can’t fix anything systemic tonight, I can take a look at the shower head and the laundry taps, fix things so at least you can have a shower and get your dirty clothes sorted.”

No. The only reasonable answer was no, so why wasn’t I saying it? My throat worked, my lungs pulled in air to say that one little word, but I couldn’t. For some reason, I just couldn’t. I blinked and then I heard him say the one thing I was waiting to hear.

“I can’t fix everything going wrong right now, but I can fix this. Free of charge—”

“I can’t—”

“You can. My boys were taking their shit out on you in class and… Look, it’ll make me feel better and it won’t take a lot of work. Ring that flatmate of yours and see if she can come over if you’re worried about some strange guy in your house.”

Strange guy? I hadn’t even thought about it because there was some Big Dad Energy going on with Nash and it made me imagine him as a sweet middle-aged man.

Not that middle-aged dudes couldn’t take advantage of a single woman on her own.

In the morning I would probably be horrified about how blasé I was being, but I was drunk, tired, and just wanting to do whatever it took to function, so I said, “Yes, please. I’d really appreciate that.”

I rattled off my address and he signed off, letting me know he’d be there in about half an hour.

It wasat that point I realised I had the guardian of two of my students coming around while I still had empty cans strewn through the house. After heading to the front of the house to turn the porch light on, I worked my way back to the lounge room, picking up empty G&T cans and throwing them into the recycling container. Then I grabbed the unopened ones and stashed them in the fridge. I was just getting the mop out when I heard a knock on the door.

As I went to answer it, that sensible voice started shrieking inside my head again, this time about letting strange men into the house. I told it to shut up as I opened the door. At least I tried to open it, but it got stuck again and I had to wrestle with it. Once I got it open properly, I turned to greet Nash. The first thing I realised was that I had to lift my gaze higher to his eyes than I’d anticipated. A hell of a lot higher. When I did, I saw that he was frowning slightly at how hard I’d had to wrench at the door, and my fingers twitched in reaction, wanting to reach out and smooth his expression. And the second thing I realised was that I had totally mis-read his age over the phone. There was no dad bod here, nor any middle-aged spread. He had a whole different BDE going on that had nothing to do with Big Dad Energy.

Nash Walker was a certified daddy.

Chapter9

“Hi…” Nash stood on the porch, the outside light creating a damn halo around his head, making the lighter ends of his dark brown hair look blond. He blinked once, twice, and I watched entranced as his too-long lashes brush his cheeks each time. Then his honey brown eyes, the same unusual colour as Knox and Maddox had, widened. “Fuck, sorry. I’m Nash.” He hefted his tool box then, as if providing evidence to support his claim, then thrust out a hand.

I took it automatically, probably because I was nervous, drunk, sad and mad all at once. Because otherwise I probably wouldn’t have. I tended to avoid having much to do with men who looked like Nash, having found that they didn’t usually want to have much to do with me. Simply put, he was fucking gorgeous. He had a mop of tousled brown hair and high fucking cheekbones for days that even had a small smatter of freckles across them, but it was his lips that kept drawing my attention. Full and almost swollen for a man, they’d quirked as I stared at him, then they parted and stayed open when we touched.

As our fingers brushed past each other, my first thought was that somehow, on top of everything else, the house had an electrical fault, because I felt a zap. But it wasn’t the painful sensation of electricity gone wild, spearing through me into the earth below. No, this was… liquid. The minute his broad callused palm touched mine, hot, viscous pleasure that I had no business feeling washed through me, and it took my breath away.

And his, too, if the ragged intake of air I heard was to be believed. The slight crease between his brows deepened and then, still holding my hand, he stepped forward.

Not that it would be with any sort of invitation: my experience with men this attractive had taught me that. For some reason, although I knew I should be stepping back and ushering him in, I seemed to be stuck in place. It was late, I had shit to do and so did he, so why was I just standing there, gawping up at this massive man? He towered over me which, if I’d been using my logical brain, should’ve scared the shit out of me. He was big enough to toss me over his shoulder and—

Oh fuck.

I blinked a couple of times, then went to pull my hand away, but his grip tightened, just for a second, before he seemed to come to and realise what the fuck he was doing.

“I am so, so grateful you could come out—” I started to say.

“It’s not a problem, Ellie.” Fuck, it sounded like he breathed my name out? What was wrong with me? Just because a hot guy was being thoughtful didn’t mean he was into me. “Seriously, I’m happy to help.” He shook his head, and I realised that when I’d thought his eyes were amber, it must have been a reflection of the light, because now he was closer I could see they were light brown. He nodded to the hallway behind me. “Did you want to show me—?”

“Yes, of course. Just through here.”

Jesus Christ, I hissed at myself as we walked further into the house.Get it together, Ellie.Then the shame I felt any time anyone came around had my cheeks flushing. The house was so dingy, threadbare and worn, and it felt like it was a reflection on me. But that wasn’t the only reason for me feeling heated. Derek and I had showered together plenty of times when he’d been here, but it had never felt as intimate as how I felt as Nash walked behind me. He followed me into the bathroom and the room felt so much smaller as a result.

“Sorry—” I started to say, turning to him and gesturing at the towels that were still strewn across the floor.

“Don’t be.” He set his toolbox down and then came closer, reaching out a hand towards me, both of us following its trajectory with wide eyes. He settled it on my shoulder, giving a quick squeeze. “I’ve been knee deep in actual shit more times than I’d like to count. One time I had to go to the lady of the house and explain that the reason why her toilet is backed up is because her hubby was flushing the condoms he was using to fuck his side piece with, so she didn’t find them.”

He looked around the room with a much more optimistic air than me.

“We can sort this problem out, don’t you worry.” He turned his attention back to me. Keeping one hand on my shoulder, the fingers of his other hand brushed around the cut on my forehead. “What about you, though? Was this from the shower?”

Heat, so much more heat was flushing through my body. I swallowed.

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