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That wasn’t in her books yesterday. Still, maybe that’s why she took off yesterday, to stay on top of things to stop me trying something underhanded with the bank.
“Just do that, and I’ll let you know when we need the next move.”
And I disconnect the call, grab my fall coat and head out into the world.
At the store things are fine. And Zoey heads upstairs around mid-morning for something or other.
We haven’t mentioned the night before, but it’s there, burning between us, making the air taut, alive, thrumming with awareness. But that can stay on the back burner. I prefer it there. I want to have sex with Zoey. I have a horrible feeling I’m going to have to have sex with her for a long time, so while I sort that shit out, I’m more than happy to not mention what happened.
Just like I’m actually happy she’s upstairs, out of temptation’s way.
“You’re an idiot,” I mutter.
I’m about to get a coffee when Zoey suddenly screams.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Zoey
“Are you okay?”
Magnus’s voice reaches me before he does, and he bursts into the kitchen like a wild thing. And then stops, taking me in. I’m soaked to the bone, a drowned rat. On the floor.
Behind me, water shoots out from beneath the sink.
His mouth is open and I snap. “Bathroom sink. Get the toolbox.”
I turn and continue fruitlessly trying to stave off the water with my hands.
“Here.” Magnus hands me the box and I fling it open, grabbing the wrench and battling with the stuck water tap. It finally gives and the water slows to a trickle and then stops.
I sag. The water’s soaking into the floor and if it drips down through the light fixtures and onto books in the room below I’m in trouble.
“Go and move all the boxes and books in the room beneath.”
Magnus doesn’t wait for me to clarify, he takes off, and I pull open the drawer with old rags and dump them on the flood. Next come the tea towels. And then I’m up and dragging all the towels I can get my hands on into the kitchen.
I’m in the midst of soaking and wringing into a basin and repeating when Magnus returns. He simply drops to his knees and joins me, making faster work of this than I can.
“Sorry,” he says. “I’ve got no idea about pipes and things like that. Plumbers, however, I can do. One’s coming shortly.”
I bite down on the groan that rises up. More money I now really don’t have, growing wings and flying out the window. But the old pipes have needed replacing for years and I can’t live without water. Or live with using just the bathroom sink.
“Thanks.”
He puts a hand on my thigh, my jeans almost black from the water. “It’s not your fault.”
“No, but I know these things are a pain in the ass.”
“It’ll be okay.” Then he gets to his feet and disappears. He’s back in a few minutes. “I locked up. The plumber will call me when he’s here.”
I want to say I’ll do it, but turning off the water tap to the pipe in the kitchen is as far as my skills go, and judging from the way Magnus stared like the scene was something out of a horror film, his skills are no doubt less than mine. And, I knew the day to replace the pipes would come.
I’d just hoped it would be down the track, on a day of my choosing. Not from near-disaster necessity.
We continue cleaning up and there’s something nice about having him there. I just wish…well, I wish for a lot of things and I can’t have any of them.
But it’s better than thinking of the pure pleasure last night had been. That’s dangerous because that kind of pleasure a girl might want to keep, might want to dream on. Especially when you combine it with the man who’s helping you, the man whose complexity and layers call.
