Page 3

Chapter Three

Juno

Stay calm. I repeat this mantra as Calder works, shirtless, in my shower. It’s hot as hell, no air conditioning and the man’s jeans are riding just below that elusive, sexy v that guys my own age don’t even have. How can this man be…wait.

“How old are you?” The words slip from my mouth. His slow turn toward me makes me want to crawl under a rock. “I mean, I’m just curious.”

“I just turned forty-five.”

“Oh.”

“I know. Ancient right?” His shoulder muscles pop and stretch, arms above his head screwing in my brand-new showerhead.

“Actually, you’re a lot younger than my dad.”

A laugh escapes his gorgeous lips. “No shit.”

“He’s in his fifties, but he looks a lot older than his age. You look young for forty-five, except for the gray hairs.” Jesus, I can’t shut the fuck up. He continues twisting the wrench.

“How old are you?” He asks, and I suddenly feel like a child. One that shouldn’t be subtly hitting on a man who’s mature and has probably had many women. Hot, sexy, confident women.

“Twenty-five. A baby, right?” I pick at the skin near my thumbnail, feeling totally immature.

Calder drops his arms to his sides. His steely blue eyes find mine. My entire body erupts in flames. The thin layer of sweat highlights his bulging physique. If he unbuckled his pants right now I’d spread wide open, ready to receive whatever he’s packing under that tool belt.

“Nah. You’re old enough to buy a house.” He high steps out of the tub.

“So you’re old enough to make your own decisions.

Not a baby at all, a grown-ass woman.” The slight twang of natural musk radiating off him sends my panties into melt mode.

I wiggle my hip to the side, aching for relief from the seam of my jean shorts.

Fuck me. Is he flirting with me? He has to be, right?

Calder has turned my brain to scrambled eggs.

He moves an inch closer, staring into my eyes for a moment, and I’m on the brink of going for it.

Throwing my arms around his neck and breaking this six-month dry spell with my dad’s fucking best fucking friend.

“I’ll go turn the water back on.” He growls, zapping the energy between us to a dull spark.

“Yeah, let’s try her out.” I don’t recognize my voice, meek and wavering.

He steps around me, his heavy work boots sounding through the house as he makes his way to the fuse box in the basement.

Catching a glimpse of myself in the mirror, I run a hand through my hair.

My palm comes away slightly slick. Of course I’m sweating like a pig.

Being this close to an actual man who isn’t a man- child , like every other dude I’ve ever dated, is doing strange things to me.

But I have to remind myself that he’s only doing this out of the kindness of his heart.

Because my father would want him to. They certainly didn’t end things on good terms, so this is probably a way for him to seek atonement or to at least bridge the gap of a friendship that faded to a former colleague.

I shake off the wretched heat pooled in my gut. There’s no way he’d want me. That’s all there is to it. I step into the shower and wait for Calder to?—

I scream. A steady, pulsing stream of cold water hits my face. I can’t breathe. When the shock wears off I reach for the knob, eyes closed, fumbling to turn it off. A pair of warm, strong hands brush mine, and before I can think twice, I’m frozen to the spot, panting.

“Oh shit.” Calder shakes the water from his hands, his face a mask of concern. “Are you okay?”

My mouth agape, I try to form words but all I can do is laugh. “I guess it’s working.” I finally manage to eke out between giggles. Calder joins in, laughing along with me.

“Here.” He takes my hand and helps me out of the tub.

The first step is fine, but on the second step, my sneaker slips against the linoleum.

A near squeal escapes my mouth, but for the second time today, I find myself saved by the mountainous handyman.

This time, his arms are around my waist. The strength of his grip reignites the fire inside me, one so hot that even the ice-cold water that just doused me can’t compete with it.

“Are you always this accident-prone?” His lips, full enough to make a Kardashian envious, are so close to mine.

“I think it’s you,” I say, water dripping down my cheek. Again, we’re in the right position for a very sexy and semi-forbidden moment. I close my eyes, just in case.

“Good thing I’m here then.” Calder grunts, and balances me back on both feet. I try not to visibly groan, wanting—no needing this man’s touch like I’ve never craved any before. I’m about to agree that, yes, it’s a fucking great thing that he’s here when I notice he’s staring at my chest.

I look down. My nipples are rock hard, poking against the fabric of both my bra and my baby blue t-shirt. I feel myself turning red and instinctively go to cover myself, but think better of it at the last minute.

I want him to see me.

He tears his eyes away, but now it’s my turn to see the rock-hard outline through his jeans.

I gasp at the size but quickly recover. “I should go get a mop.” I exit the bathroom and head down the hall toward the storage closet.

It doesn’t even occur to me that I don’t own a mop until I get there.

I shut myself in the tiny room and close my eyes for a moment, begging my breathing to steady.

This is crazy. I’m practically throwing myself at Calder. I pluck my soaking wet hair off the nape of my neck. But what’s even crazier? Something tells me that Calder wants me, too.