Come On Over by Debbi Rawlins Page A

as you redirect the movers, you can hit the road. Better yet, leave me a forwarding address. I’d be happy to take care of it for you.”
    â€œMaybe I should just call the moving company now.”
    â€œExcellent idea.”
    â€œDream on.” She tore off a paper towel and wiped a spill on the counter. “Trash? Under the sink, right?” She opened the lower cabinet and frowned. “You have a leak.”
    â€œGee, what was your first clue?” Maybe he should kiss her again. Just to shut her up. “I know there’s a problem. Why do you think I put a bowl under there?”
    â€œThis might sound silly, but you could...oh, I don’t know—” she moved a shoulder, tilted her head to the side “—maybe fix it instead?”
    Trent ground his molars together. “It’s gonna take some time. I’m not a plumber.”
    She dropped to a crouch and moved the wastebasket to the side. “It looks fairly straightforward. Shouldn’t take much.”
    â€œBe my guest.”
    After poking around she asked, “You have a wrench?” When he didn’t respond, she looked up. “Just bring me your toolbox.”
    He was more than happy to call her bluff. By the time he returned with three different size wrenches—with the toolbox sitting outside the kitchen door just in case—he wasn’t surprised that she’d disappeared.
    The cabinet door had been left open, the wastebasket set aside. The half-filled bowl hadn’t been moved. He thought for a moment, trying to decide if he should go ahead and tackle the job since he had the tools out. If he screwed up, his neighbor four miles down would bail him out. For a kid, Jimmy was fairly handy with this sort of thing and he owed Trent big time for helping him move cattle. Actually, the guy wasn’t that young, maybe twenty-five, six years younger than Trent. But somehow Jimmy managed to make him feel old.
    â€œOh, good.” Shelby walked in wearing a different T-shirt, with a faded green towel draped over her arm. Her bed-tousled hair was now pulled into a ponytail. He’d liked it better before.
    â€œI figured you’d skipped out,” he said.
    â€œI told you I’d fix it.”
    â€œYep, you did. Here you go.” He passed her the wrenches and couldn’t help noticing that the new shirt was tighter, stained and sported a few small holes.
    She laid the wrenches on the linoleum, then spread the towel next to it.
    â€œWould you like a pillow, too?”
    â€œOh God.” She rolled her eyes as she lowered herself to the floor. “You’re going to be one of those guys, aren’t you?”
    â€œWhat?”
    â€œGet all macho and then pissy over a woman showing you up.”
    â€œHell no. I want it fixed. And someone else doing the work is right up my alley.” He folded his arms across his chest. “Assuming that someone knows what they’re doing.”
    â€œYeah?” She smiled. “Watch and learn...sweetheart.”
    The worn T-shirt was a size too small for her. And distracting as hell. But he wasn’t comfortable leaving yet.
    Something unpleasant had just occurred to him. Three months ago he’d installed the garbage disposal himself after watching a DIY video online. So far so good, but knowing she’d be tinkering under there was making him nervous.
    â€œTell you what, Shelby, I’ll take care of the leak this afternoon.” He watched her lie back, then do a little shimmy as she tried to get in a suitable position. “Before dinner.”
    â€œThat’s okay. I’m here.”
    He was probably worried for nothing. If it was going to come loose it would’ve done so already. His gaze lingered on her hips as he waited for the next little wiggle.
    â€œI thought you had chores to do,” she muttered, her voice muffled from partway inside the cabinet.
    â€œRight after I finish my coffee.” Where