Page 18 of Accidentally In Love

“Shit!” She barreled forward, her footsteps splattering water in every direction. She climbed over the shower curtain and reached for a sopping brown towel in the basin of the tub. Then wrapped it around the shower head hanging from its hose connection. At least that maneuver redirected the flow of water down the tub drain instead of the outside wall and onto the floor.

“Whoa! I’ll be right back. Gotta shut off your line.” Mick turned on the ball of his foot and took off. He was halfway down the stairs and through her front door a few seconds later. The water main should be up near the mailbox. Pausing at his truck, he used the flashlight on his cell to find the right wrench from the toolbox in the bed and then continued his beeline for the road.

His feet crunched in the gravel and he sucked in an extra lungful of cold night air. Damn, this place had a long driveway. At the top of the rise he spied the mailbox and the marker for the water main. He knelt beside it and yanked away the plastic black cover. Within a few seconds he had the water off and was starting down the long drive back toward the house.

Mick dropped the wrench off at his truck and hurried through Laurel’s front door. “It should be off,” he shouted, angling his head toward the stairwell.

“It is.” The reply trailed down toward him. Her voice was so dejected and beaten. Poor woman. It looked like she’d had a rough evening so far.

He took the stairs two at a time, launching himself up to the second story. Then walked toward her master bedroom.

She was on her knees wiping up the floor. The only thing between her round ass and his gaze was a thin layer of pink fabric.Damn, man.He shook the thought from his head, but ignoring the tightening in his groin was going to be more trouble.

“Can I help?” He leaned against the doorjamb behind her and surveyed the mess. The floor was covered in a solid puddle. The wall where the shower head and pipe leak had sprayed was ruined and would have to be replaced. There were two holes where the ends of her shower curtain had been installed. Sheet rock had been unceremoniously ripped from those places. And the shower curtain itself looked to have been halfway ripped from its rings. “Did you fall?” The sudden realization put a healthy dose of trepidation into his normally deep-toned voice.

She reared up on her knees and sighed. “Yes.” Her hand went to her ass and rubbed absentmindedly. “Can you grab me another towel? I put a big stack of them on the floor just outside the bathroom.”

“Are you okay?”

“Bruised, but fine.” She wadded up the sopping towel she’d finished with and heaved, sending the towel sailing across the bathroom toward the tub. It hit the tiled wall with an angry smack before descending into the basin.

He bent to grab a towel and then leaned into the bathroom, handing it off. “You’ve only got two left.” He surveyed the remaining towels and then the lake masquerading as her bathroom floor. “Any more somewhere else?”

She peered over her shoulder and shook her head. Her blue eyes were reddened from tears that had been wiped away. “I’d only bought a few to get by with right now.”

“Hey.” He crouched behind her and reached out, laying a hand on her back. “It’s just water. I promise. It will be okay. I’ll help you get it fixed.”

A shiver vibrated through her body and Mick’s hand. He flexed his fingers, sliding them up to her shoulder.

“I just wanted to take a nice warm shower.” Her teeth chattered through the sentence and he noticed a grayish tint to her lips that hadn’t been there before. “I can’t do anything right. I can’t do anything without help.”

“Hey, it’s okay.” The words caught in his throat.

“It’s not okay. I’m a failure.” She tried to moved forward, away from his touch.

Mick decided letting her go to wallow wasn’t really on the agenda. “You’re not a failure. Stop putting yourself down.” He grabbed the belt on her robe and tugged gently, pulling her out of the bathroom. She resisted no more than a few seconds before she backed toward him, each movement creating a squelching sound. “Is your robe wet?”

His hand slid around her hip as she rotated, quickly coming in contact with freezing wet fabric that made his warm skin burn in shock. It was cold on the floor and half her robe was soaked from being on her knees in the bathroom lake.

“J-j-just a little.”

“Laurel.” He hissed as the wet, ice cold fabric soaked through a spot on his jeans. One of the shoulders had fallen open, revealing a dark blue strap beneath it.Thank God she’s not naked like I imagined at first.Although, depending on how she responded, she might end up that way regardless. He pulled the tie around her waist loose, looped an arm around her hips and pulled the heavy wet robe free from her shivering body. “You’re gonna catch your death wrapped in a wet robe in this drafty house.”

He stood, bringing her up with him. He was holding her against his body, rubbing up and down her back vigorously, hoping the friction would help warm her body. Mick tossed her half-soaked robe onto the bathroom floor. It might as well soak up more of the water now.

“How did you get this cold this fast?”

“I d-d-didn’t r-r-realize,” she stuttered out, her teeth knocking together like a porch wind chime. “I have to get the water up.”

“Nope.” He lifted her from the floor and set her on the edge of her bed. There were sheets but no blankets. Not even a comforter to wrap her in. “Where the hell is your blanket? Your house is not warm enough to sleep without a blanket.”

He unbuttoned his flannel shirt and yanked it off, wrapping it around her bare shoulders. His gaze drifted down, unable to help noticing the curve of her breasts or the way her nipples were rock hard right beneath the thin dampened fabric of her tank.

“I don’t…” A single tear rolled down her cheek. “I forgot to buy one. I’ve just been sleeping in sweats.”

His heart dropped to the pit of his stomach and he wanted to punch the asshole that put her in the frame of mine where she’d forget her basic needs. “Hey, now.” Mick cupped her face and smiled down at her, hoping she didn’t pull away or yell and send him packing. She didn’t. God, she looked sexy wearing his shirt, her wet hair trailed down her shoulders and her blue eyes were bright—sadness and hope each battling for first place in line. He wanted hope to win. He wanted to see her smile again.

“I’m a complete wreck, I know,” she added, her voice breaking under the emotion. The sadness won and it pained him like someone was using a butter knife to dig a splinter from his heart.

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