Page 36 of Bennett
She blew out a breath, and the last remnants of her irritation slipped into something closer to reluctant amusement. “Since you’re the designated babysitter, should I start calling you Nanny McBroody?”
His lips twitched, but he didn’t take the bait. “Pretty sure nannies don’t have to install door locks to keep their charges safe from lunatics.”
“No, but they’re usually less growly.”
“Growly?” He glanced at her, one eyebrow arched in challenge. “Never been called that before.”
“Well, you are,” she insisted, crossing her arms. “All stern and scowly. Heaven forbid someone so much as sneezes wrong.”
“Maybe it’s because you keep throwing things at me.”
She bit back a grin. “One time. You’re lucky it wasn’t a bottle of water.”
Bennett chuckled, a low, rumbling sound that sent warmth trickling through her veins. “You’ve got guts, I’ll give you that.”
“Is that your way of saying you’re impressed?”
“Impressed?” He scoffed, turning back to his work. “More like mildly entertained.”
She winced. “Ouch. Try not to flatter me too much, my ego might explode.”
He tightened the last screw and tested the doorknob with a few firm twists. “There. Locked and loaded.”
She raised her brows. “Well, aren’t you just a regular handyman.”
“Part of the job description.” He turned and handed her a key. “Keep this door locked from now on.”
Fisting the key, she nodded. “Yes, sir.”
His eyes met hers, the humor in them pulling her lips into a smile. “You know, you could just say thank you.”
“I could,” she replied.
His eyebrow arched. “And?”
“But where’s the fun in that?”
A soft snort escaped him, but he didn’t bother hiding his amusement. “You’re impossible.”
“So I’ve been told.”
As he reached down to retrieve his screwdriver, she couldn’t deny the warmth spreading through her at the realization that he was actually willing to stick around. To protect her.
But, of course, she couldn’t let him see that.
“A prepared man. You really don’t do things halfway, do you?” she quipped, shoving the key in her pocket before folding her arms over her chest again.
“Not my style.”
“Good to know.” She regarded him closely, trying to read his expression. “So, what’s your next brilliant move, Mr. Security Professional?”
He shrugged. “Making sure your door actually locks was step one. Step two is getting settled next door.”
“Lucky you.”
“Something like that.”
The way his eyes held hers made her stomach twist in the most distracting way possible. And then, as if he hadn’t just sent her thoughts spiraling, he turned and headed for the door.
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