Page 85 of Hold Your Breath

“Never mind. Have fun shopping. I’ll see you soon.”

“Shopping? You make it sound like I’m picking out a purse or something.”

Rolling her eyes, Lou said, “Fine. Have fun on your ultramacho and manly errand, selecting and purchasing whatever gender-appropriate item you need.”

“I will.”

“And I’ll lock the door and hide in the back until you get here.”

“On the positive side,” he said, “there isn’t anyoneworsethan Lawrence who could come into the shop.”

“Except for Brent,” she joked.

Obviously, he did not find it funny, since he went silent for a long moment, and then snapped, “I’ll be right there.”

“I was”—she realized he’d already ended the call—“kidding.”

* * *

Once Callum arrived, the rest of her shift was fun. The crowd picked up as the afternoon transitioned to evening, so the time flew. When Lou realized it was almost closing time, she was surprised by how quickly her shift had gone.

“Thanks,” she told Callum as he drove them the short distance to his house. “For staying for so long. It made it much more bearable-er.”

His lips twitched. “Bearable-er? Don’t think that’s a word. How many years did you go to school?”

With a groan, she admitted, “Too many. And none of my classes taught me the important things, like how to fix a clogged toilet. The clever people on the Internet taught me that.”

“Speaking of plumbing, you get to be my assistant tonight.”

“Your assistant?” She turned toward him as they pulled into his garage. “Do I get to have mall hair and wear a bedazzled leotard?”

“I didn’t understand most of what you just said.”

“Like a magician’s assistant? With big hair and all the sparkly stuff? Oh, never mind. It’s not funny if I have to explain.”

“Okay.” He paused as they both got out of the truck, speaking again when she’d rounded the pickup and entered the mudroom as he held the door for her. “I need to fix the kitchen sink. Since I was going to do that this afternoon, you can help me tonight.”

“Sure.” She watched as he bent over, his back to her, to loosen his bootlaces. “You know, you’d make even plumber’s crack look good.”

His hand slapped over the back of the waistband of his jeans. Finding himself fully covered, he sent her an upside-down glare.

“I’m using my imagination,” she told him, heading into the kitchen. Before she’d realized he’d caught up with her, there was a solid smack on her own butt.

“Brat,” he murmured in her ear as he passed.

“Foul!” she yelled, rubbing her rear. “That’s no way to treat your assistant.”

He just gave her a wicked grin. It sat oddly on his normally austere countenance, but it looked good on him. Although she tried to hold her glare, it melted under the heat of his smile.

“Let’s do this,” she said, turning toward the kitchen sink and slapping her hands together so she didn’t do anything stupid, like hurl herself at him and attach her lips to his.

“Don’t you want to eat first?”

“Nope.” There were too many butterflies in there right now. Food wouldn’t fit. “Let’s get this done. Unless it’s a multihour project?”

“It’s just a leaky flange, so it shouldn’t be.” He headed to a closet. “Unless the plumbing assistant really jacks it up.”

“Hey!” she yelled after him. When he emerged from the closet, toolbox in hand, he grinned at her.