Total pages in book: 87
Estimated words: 83331 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 417(@200wpm)___ 333(@250wpm)___ 278(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 83331 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 417(@200wpm)___ 333(@250wpm)___ 278(@300wpm)
If I didn’t get the water leak fixed quickly, it would cause damage that I’d be financially responsible for. I didn’t want to think about paying for new flooring, walls, and maybe even plumbing.
Suddenly, I was being pulled forward, hard, as a car horn blared close by. My fall was broken by something huge and solid. Someone, actually, who smelled like clean laundry and the woods. When I caught my breath, I realized it was my least favorite police chief.
“You okay?” he asked, his arms still locked protectively around me.
I just stared at him, momentarily dazed. This close up, I could see that his moss-colored eyes had flecks of gold. I’d briefly felt the brush of his beard over my cheek when we fell, and it had been surprisingly soft. I forced myself out of the trance I was in.
“Yeah, but…what was that for?” I asked.
“Hey kid, watch your speed!” he yelled at the driver of a car who had stopped and rolled down his window.
“I’m sorry, sir.” The boy barely looked old enough to drive and was near tears.
“Get out of here,” Grady said, waving a hand. “And be more careful.”
“I will, sir. Thank you, sir.”
The kid was terrified of him. Was it because he was a police officer or because he was intimidating? Probably both. I hadn’t checked the intersection before running into it, and Grady had just saved me from being hit by the car.
“Oh no, the camera.” I got into a sitting position, frantically grabbing for it.
Tears pooled in my eyes. I’d never forgive myself if I’d broken Pete’s camera. Nothing screamed unworthy like ruining it before I’d taken a single photo.
“What the hell were you doing?” Grady demanded, getting to his feet.
He examined a tear in the shoulder of his uniform, scowled at it, and offered me a hand. I remembered my plumbing situation and took his hand, scrambling to get up.
“Can we do this later?” I asked, tipping my chin up so my gaze reached his. “There’s water shooting out of a pipe in the bathroom at the Chronicle and I have to get to the hardware store.”
He lowered his brows in a serious look. “I’ll get my toolbox.”
Caught off guard, I said nothing as he ran toward City Hall, his retreating form looking like that of a pro football player heading for the end zone.
I picked up the camera, still hanging around my neck on its strap, and examined it. No cracks or scratches. Switching it on, I looked through the viewfinder and took a test shot just as Grady ran out of City Hall, toolbox in hand.
“What are you doing?” he said, his scowl back. “I thought you had a plumbing emergency, and you’re taking pictures?”
“I do, but I needed to make sure the camera still works.”
He shook his head. “Just show me where the leak is. And for God’s sake, don’t run into the street without looking again.”
His disdain was palpable, like I was a rambunctious toddler he couldn’t corral, despite his exhaustive efforts. I held back my urge to tell him where he could shove his toolbox because I desperately needed his help, and he had just saved me.
As a woman working in sales, I was used to men underestimating me. Not all of them, of course, but I’d had male colleagues mansplain things a time or twenty. There was a reason Grady’s ring finger was bare.
“Shit,” he muttered as he walked into the Chronicle, water rolling across the floor toward the main office area now.
He set down his toolbox and bounded into the bathroom. I took off Pete’s camera and gently set it on a desk, then followed him.
By the time I got into the bathroom, there was no water pouring from the sink to the floor anymore.
“I turned off the water supply to the sink,” Grady said. “I’m going to find the main water shutoff and get that one, too, just to be safe.” He pushed a button on the police radio that was strapped to his shoulder. “Command One is out at the Chronicle office.”
Okay, asshole or not, his complete competence in this situation was hot. Why were the assholes always so attractive?
“What’s your plan to get this replaced?” he asked me.
I gaped at him for a second before responding. “My plan was to stop the gushing water.”
He gave me an irritated scowl. “Yeah, but the faucet also needs to be replaced.”
Waving a hand, I said, “I’m sure I can find a YouTube video on it.”
“A YouTube video? You need a plumber.”
I shrugged, about to say I’d find one on Google when he put up a hand to stop me.
“After I get the water shut off, I have to respond to a call on the other side of town,” he said. “If you can pick up a new faucet, I’ll come back and install it when I’m done.”