Lonely Heart by MJ Kane

appreciated his help, and okay, he was easy on the eyes and I enjoyed our conversations. That didn’t give him the right to…to…
    My thoughts froze as he stood and unbuttoned his shirt, his attention on the parts resting on the floor. I ogled him without shame.
    “Do you have a set of screwdrivers? You know flat head, Phillips…”
    “Um,” I cleared my throat and indicated the corner of the room. “There’s a flat head over there, somewhere. I kinda threw it when I got mad. I’m not great with tools.”
    “Everybody can’t be.” He slid his shirt off his shoulders, folded it in half.
    My eyes felt as if they would explode. The bulge in his bicep was attached to well defined muscle. Everything looked good. His chest and abs were covered in a snug black muscle shirt which left very little to the imagination.
    A rush of heat had me fanning.
    “Is there somewhere I can set this?” He seemed oblivious to my stare.
    Thank God.
    “Sure.” I reached out for it, holding it a few seconds longer than needed, enjoying the heat from the fabric. The scent of his cologne was mesmerizing.
    “Sorry for taking off my shirt. I’ve got a…plans later and don’t want to sweat it out.”
    “Oh…no problem. Are you sure you have time for this? If not, it’s okay. Tiffany promised she’d help this evenin’…”
    “I’ve got time.” His direct gaze made me shut my mouth. He sat down with instructions in his hands and sifted through the pieces of the mess I’d left behind.
    I remained quiet, not wanting to disrupt his concentration. It was hard not to stare at him as he worked. He seemed good at everything he put his hands on. In the month since fixing my car, I had no problems. Now in less than ten minutes, the bones of the crib were coming together.
    “So…,” his attention on the screw in his hand, “What are you having? Boy or girl?”
    “No idea. Two ultra sounds and each time the baby’s legs were closed tight.”
    He laughed. “Sounds like the kid is going to be stubborn, too. What do you want?”
    “Oh, you’ve got jokes. Very funny.” I rolled my eyes, then laughed. “A girl. I want to do the whole pink thing and be girly. I spent enough time around my brothers to know boys can be a pain. No offense.”
    “None taken,” he said, though his sideways’ glance was sarcastic. “What about the father?”
    Well didn’t that just ruin the moment? “What about him?”
    He paused. “I take it things aren’t working out.”
    “Not anymore.” I stared down at my unpainted toes.
    “Sorry. I shouldn’t have asked.” He turned his attention back to the task at hand.
    “It’s obvious we’re not together anymore. Guess I’ll get used to it…eventually.”
    Antonio grew silent as he completed the task, then cleaned up the mess.
    Unable to remain patient, I grabbed the bag of linens for the baby’s crib. He helped me put them on, then pushed the crib to its position against the wall. When we were done, I sat on the bed; he sat next to me admiring his work.
    My body went on alert, not from fear because Antonio was a good man. The temptation from the sexy spice of cologne and his physical presence in my bedroom, on my bed, awoke the urge for physical intimacy. Being pregnant and estranged from the father of my child did not mean I didn’t have physical needs.
    I risked a glance; luckily, his attention was on the crib. He appeared satisfied with his work. My eyes went to his lips. What it would be like to kiss him?
    Okay, reality check.
    Me: pregnant, not his baby.
    Him: hot stud who’s obviously got a date.
    Conclusion: pay him, say thank you, wait for him to leave, cry myself to sleep. Again.
    I pushed up from the bed. “Thank you, Antonio. I appreciate your help.” I went to the dresser and dug into my purse for my wallet, counted off a few bills. When I faced him, he looked offended.
    “What is that?” He indicated the cash in my hand.
    “Me givin’ you somethin’ for your time. You