Page 11 of Where the Roses Bloom

“Need a hand?” I asked, voice catching a little as it left my mouth.

He turned, startled…then smiled slow.

“Well hey there, stranger.”

My heart did something it absolutely should not have done for a man I hardly knew.

“You fix libraries now?” I teased.

“Only when someone guilts me into it.” He nodded toward the shelves. “These’ve been wobbly since before I could read. Delilah finally threatened to revoke my lending privileges if I didn’t show up.”

“I’d say that sounds extreme, but I’ve seen her hoarding the romance section.”

“She says it’s research,” he deadpanned. “For a series she’s writin’ about a sexy handyman who minds his business and don’t ask too many questions.”

I laughed…but didn’t know what to say, because he really was sexy and I had no idea what to do with that.

“So,” he said, setting the drill on the shelf behind him. “You still just passing through?”

“Actually…” I tucked a strand of hair behind my ear, hoping he wouldn’t notice the way I was fidgeting. “I think I might stay—just for a little while.”

His gaze flickered. Not surprised. Just…brightened.

“Yeah?” he asked, like he didn’t want to sound too hopeful.

“Yeah,” I said. “Trying to find a job. A place to live. You know. Something resembling a life, at least for a little while.”

He wiped his hands on the rag tucked into his back pocket and crossed his arms loosely in front of him. His shirt clung to the line of his shoulder, and I had to look away before I did something stupid—like ask him to build me a cabinet I didn’t have a place for just so I could watch him swing a hammer.

“You find anything yet?”

I shook my head. “Nothing that doesn’t involve gas stations, childcare, or wrangling golden retrievers.”

Rhett chuckled, low and warm in his throat. “You ever met Milo?”

I narrowed my eyes. “No, why?”

“He’s a menace.” He smiled down at the scuffed floorboards, like he was remembering something. “Runs faster than Beau’s truck and knows how to open screen doors. Wouldn’t let you sleep more than four hours at a time, even if you begged.”

“So he’s a toddler in a dog suit.”

“Pretty much.”

“Okay, well, maybe not that one,” I said, and he laughed again.

There was a pause.

Comfortable, but charged.

Then he said, “I’ll ask around.”

I blinked. “What?”

He shrugged one shoulder. “You’re looking for work. I know a lot of folks who need help, and not everyone puts up signs. I’ll let you know if I hear anything.”

My chest tightened. “You don’t have to do that.”

“Didn’t say I had to,” he replied, eyes still fixed on mine. “Just said I would.”