He and Kelsey showed her out together, but Ida refused his offer to walk her home. She pulled a flashlight from her pocket and promised she was fine. Kurt closed the door and caught Kelsey taking in the foyer and curved staircase with a look of renewed interest and admiration.
“Nice,” he said, “to have such an interesting neighbor.”
Kelsey shook her head and hooked a thumb in the belt loop of her jeans. “She’s incredible. And clearly her sister was too. I had absolutely no idea. I’ve been feeding Sabrina’s cat for eight months, and I had no idea about any of it.”
Kurt shrugged. “Sometimes things happen like that. So, did that remarkable pie give you the energy for another couple hours’ work with the dogs?”
Kelsey rolled her shoulders in a stretch. “I’m going to sleep like a log tonight, but yes, I’m good to go.”
“Great. There are a couple dogs I’m feeling confident enough about to let you do the whole thing.”
Kelsey gave the cuff of his T-shirt a soft tug as they headed into the first parlor. “Look at that. Dogs impressive enough to gain the trust of steel-hearted Kurt Crawford.”
He winked as he reached for a leash. “That doesn’t only go for the dogs, you know. You’ve made it clear you allow some of that knowledgeable mind of yours to rule along with your I brake for turtles heart.”
Even in the semidark room, he could tell his words made her blush.
“Thanks,” she said, “but just so you know, the whole world should brake for turtles.”
Chapter 11
After such packed days, when Kelsey arrived at the Sabrina Raven estate the next morning, it felt like the rehab had been in full swing for the better part of a month. As she’d anticipated, she’d been tired enough to sleep like the dead last night. Committed to not skipping a night of bringing home one of the shelter dogs, but knowing she was too exhausted to give a high-energy dog the attention it would need, she’d chosen Max, a laid-back, eight-year-old bulldog who was content to snuggle the night away.
And despite leaving the estate so late, driving back and forth for Max, grabbing a bite to eat, and forcing herself to do a load of laundry, she’d still managed to get eight hours of sleep. As a result, she was rejuvenated and ready to face another physically and mentally demanding day.
Though she’d only known him a few days, she wasn’t surprised to find Kurt not only awake but knee-deep in a house project while waiting for her to arrive. She glanced at her watch, reaffirming that it was in fact only minutes after seven. How long had he been at it? It seemed he needed remarkably less sleep or downtime than the average person. He just went, went, went, reminding her of a ping-pong-ball taskmaster, when he wasn’t hyperfocused on the dogs. When he was with them, he was slow and purposeful, and time fell away.
And even though she should’ve guessed he’d be tinkering with one project or another, she was still a tad thrown off at finding him on his knees with the upper half of his body buried in the cabinets underneath the kitchen sink. This left the rest of him, from mid-chest down, on display. Her pulse quickened instinctively. The man truly didn’t have an ounce of fat on him.
Growing up, her brothers had been so engrossed in bodybuilding that she’d almost been turned off muscles entirely. But nothing about Kurt turned her off. Not only did he have the perfect physique, but he was equal parts Cesar Millan and the Property Brothers.
And unlike with her reflection-addicted brothers, she’d not once caught Kurt gazing at himself in a mirror. He didn’t eat like a weightlifter either. With her brothers, it had been egg whites, chicken breasts, and protein shakes. Kurt, on the other hand, ate anything. Actually, he ate a whole lot of anythings. He seemed to have a metabolism of fire that magicked food straight into muscle.
Dropping her purse on the table, Kelsey forced out a loud, confident good morning. Rather than his typical blue jeans, Kurt was wearing a pair of khaki cargo pants and a dark-gray T-shirt that had slipped upward enough to show off the smooth olive of his lower back. Wow.
How long had it been since she’d fantasized about someone she worked with? The answer slowed her pulse a beat or two. As if she could forget. College. Sophomore year. Lab partner and best friend, Steve. Sorry, Kels, I just didn’t feel it.
“Morning,” Kurt said, looking at her from over his shoulder while still inside the cabinet. “Mind joining me?”
Join him? Under the sink? “Um, I think we’ve reached the point in the morning that I admit I don’t know anything about plumbing.”
He backed out from the cabinet and rested against the balls of his feet. His smile was easy and fabulous, and his teeth gleamed white. And there was a grease smudge running across his bicep. Kelsey hadn’t known grease smudges could be sexy.
“You don’t have to know anything about plumbing. But your hands are smaller.”
As much as she might like to, this wasn’t something she should opt out of. For this rehab to work smoothly, they needed the house—plumbing included—to be functional. She tugged off her hoodie, not wanting it to get dirty. When it was halfway over her head, she
