This was all too good to be true. We should probably talk about us or what we wanted or something. “Aiden—”
A pipe groaned beneath the kitchen sink and then water burst out.
Aiden moved instantly, setting me aside and dropping to his knees. “Damn it.” He reached for the wrench and ducked under, swearing in Gaelic. “Hey. Hand me the plug wrench, would you?” His voice was muffled.
“Sure.” I walked in the water pooling on the floor and dug into the toolbox, handing over the plug wrench. This wasn’t my first leaking pipe.
“Thanks.” Aiden fiddled as water continued to pour.
“Sure.” Yeah, I was a little smug I could help fix the sink. I stepped over his legs and my heel caught on his jeans. Crap. I scrambled for balance but slid farther, landing on his legs and hitting my head on the side of the counter. Water sprayed me right in the face, and I turned away to cough.
Aiden grasped my arm and set me out of the spray. “You okay?” He didn’t even sound surprised.
“Yeah.” I shook water out of my hair and it sprayed everywhere. My head didn’t even hurt. My entire front side was soaked, however.
A sharp knock sounded from his door.
“That’s the pizza. Get money from my wallet.” He ducked back under the sink, his muscles moving nicely. The spray of water trickled and then stopped.
I wiped water off my face and shook out my shirt before taking cash out of his wallet, which was on the counter. I’d pay, but I didn’t have any cash right now. Even in the bank. Then I wiped off my feet before walking out of the kitchen and through the empty living room to the door. I opened it, more than ready for dinner.
“Hi.” A stunning and very curvy redhead stood on the porch—without a pizza.
I blinked water out of my eyes, acutely aware of the feeling of mascara running beneath my eyes. “Hi.” I wiped off my face and looked past her for a pizza car. Nope. “Can I help you?” New neighbor? Wonderful. She really was pretty.
Her eyes were a light blue that matched her frilly shirt that was tucked into dark jeans. She had the ability to look dressed up in jeans, which was something I’d always admired. The Chanel handbag over her shoulder completed a perfect look, along with the four-inch red checkered wedges. When she spoke, she had the perfect southern accent. The one that sounded like warm molasses sliding over your skin. “I’m looking for Aiden Devlin. Rumor has it he lives here.”
Of course she was. I nodded. “Yes. Can I tell him who’s here?” More importantly, I wanted to know who the hell she was.
She smiled full and red lips. “Tell him his wife needs to talk to him.”
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