Page 19 of Connected By Souls

“Thank you, that would be great.” I follow him out the door as he goes to his truck and puts things on the porch for me. “I thought I would start painting the hall bathroom today, so I’m so glad you brought these over.” I look at all the supplies he brought.

“It’s no problem. They’re just sitting there collecting dust anyway. Here, let me get what you need.” He grabs the paint tray, roller, and some old drop cloths. “There, that should do it.”

Heading back inside, he brings the supplies to the bathroom for me. “Did you have a good first day of work?” He comes back to the kitchen.

A huge grin spreads across my face. “I did. Miss Sylvia is amazing, and I have so many ideas for the children’s programs. The ideas just kept flowing to me.”

“So you’re in charge of the children’s programs? That’s great. I’m glad Miss Sylvia is slowing down. She needs to live a little.” He grins.

“Yeah, she said something about her sister Sadie finally convincing her to take some cruises with her. I bet those two are something together.”

“Did you know that Sadie is her twin sister? Those two are definitely trouble when they get together. The cruise won’t know what hit them.”

“Oh, my God! I had no idea. Boy, would I love to be a fly on the wall for that cruise.”

Both of us laugh at the images in our heads.

“Did you know that Beck Hunter donates to the library? She’s the author I was telling you about. Thanks to her, we can have a whole new children’s program and a ton of upgrades that the library needs. Miss Sylvia told me she thinks the author is a guy and might live here, but it’s just town gossip going around.”

“You don’t say. I guess you can never know.” Changing the subject quickly, he clears his throat. “I thought I’d start by fixing your dripping faucet in the master bath and changing out the light fixture and faucet. Do you know where the breaker box is? I’ll have to turn off the bathrooms when I change out the lights.”

“It’s in the master bedroom closet.”

“Perfect, now let’s see what you bought.”

Leading him over to the kitchen table, I show him my purchases. “These will look nice,” he says, picking up the bronze faucet. “I also love the white and dark contrast with the fixtures. I did the same thing in my bathroom.”

Loving that he approves, “I guess we have the same taste in more than one thing.” Heat flares in those blue eyes as he meets mine. Finding it hard to breathe, I stutter, “in home decorating and coffee. The same taste in home decorating and coffee.” What in the hell am I mumbling about? And why is my heart racing like I just ran a marathon?

“I’m positive we have the same taste in more than just two things.” His voice goes low. We’re so close I can see the barest hint of gold flecks in his blue eyes. Taking a deep breath, he smells so good with just a hint of cedarwood.

“Do you have a girlfriend?” I blurt out. Why the hell did I say that out loud? Damn curiosity. I can’t think when he’s looking at me like that. My face goes beet red.

An amused look appears on his face. “No, I don’t have a girlfriend.”

“Um, I’m going to start painting the other bathroom now if you want to go ahead and get started in the master.” I break eye contact and lick my dry lips. “Just let me know if you need anything.” I grab the paint and bolt to the bathroom. I hear him softly laugh behind me.

Putting my hands on the bathroom counter, I lean over and try to catch my breath. Jesus, the things that man makes come alive in me. No one has ever made me feel this way, ever. Let alone with just a look. Feeling my heartbeat steady, I grab the paint can and pour it into the tray. I need to stay busy. I don’t think as much when I'm busy, and lately, he’s all I want to think about.

I’m completely absorbed in my painting and jump when Noah’s voice fills the bathroom. “All done in the master bathroom. Mind if I do the faucet and light in here?”

“No, go ahead. I’m almost finished with this wall, so I shouldn’t be in your way.”

“I need to turn the breaker off in here for just a few minutes while I disconnect and reconnect the light, and then you can finish painting, okay?”

Nodding, I put down my roller as he leaves the room for the breaker box. The lights go off, leaving me in the dark. I hear him come back and feel him brush up against me. His breathing increases, matching mine. He’s so close that I can feel the heat radiating off of him. I can make out the shape of him as my eyes adjust to the dark. Why the hell does my bathroom have to be this small? And why the hell isn’t there a window in here?

“Sorry about the dark.” He’s so close I can feel his warm breath on my skin. “The bathroom is connected to the hall light as well. Do you mind holding a light while I work?”

“Yes, I mean no, I don’t mind.” I try to get my brain to work. I hear him laugh softly again, damn him. He’s enjoying my discomfort. He hands me his phone turning the flashlight on. “Here, let me help you so you can stand on the toilet. You can shine the light better from that angle.” I squeak as he grabs me by the waist and easily sets me down so I’m higher up. His hands linger on my waist, burning into my skin. He finally releases me, leaving me wanting more. Shaking, I point the light at the fixture so he can take it down. I watch him work, loving the way his muscles bulge and contract at the movement. When he’s done, I get down before he can help me, not trusting myself to throw my legs around him this time.

“Let me get the lights back on.” He clears his throat and walks away. I wait for him to come back as I close my eyes and will my body to relax.

The lights come on in the hallway as Noah appears, turning the bathroom light on again. I squint at the bright light until my eyes adjust. I look at my new fixture and smile. “I love it. I can’t believe how much of a difference a light fixture can make.”

“Sometimes it's the little things that make the biggest difference. Now let me get this faucet done for you.”

Putting his hat on backward, he lays down on his back and goes to work under the sink disconnecting the old faucet. Jesus help me—it’s the backward hat. I almost moan at how that turns me on. Forgetting about painting, I stare at the way his biceps strain against his t-shirt as he works. His shirt rides up, revealing muscular abs. I see the faintest hint of dark hair leaving a trail right to.... is he getting hard? Shooting my gaze up to his eyes, I’m met with a heated look that I feel in the deepest part of me. “Emma,” his voice is dangerously low. He gets up to stand in front of me.

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