She let out a laugh. “Are we bartering? How many dog callsdo you expect in exchange?”
He rose and shrugged. “None. I like doing this kind ofstuff, and I don’t get a chance in a condo.” Technically, he wasn’t lying. He didn’tget a chance because the condo didn’t need much, and he couldn’t havecared less. But fixing things for her? He likedthat. A lot. One more way to help her.
“Wow. Ford and a handyman?How can a girl turn down an offer like that?” A smile shone in her eyes, addinganother foot to his six-four frame, and his chestmight’ve expanded another ten inches.
Yep, he was Mr. Helpful.
“A twofer.” He grinned. “I’ll take some pictures and getmeasurements, then make a Home Depot run and pick up what I need.”
“What, you mean today?”
Her astonishment had him backpedaling. “We don’t have to,but I don’t like the idea of this broken lock.”
“I always bolt the door between the porch and kitchen.”
“Good.” He teased his phone from his pocket and tookclose-ups of the lock. Before she knew what he was up to, he snapped her photo.Twice. What the hell is the matter with me? I’m acting like a moronicsix-year-old who’s crushing on his teacher.
David Lee Roth sang out in T.J.’s head about being hot for histeacher. Shit.
“What are you doing?” She seemed borderline amused.
Great question. What am I doing? As soon as herealized she wasn’t freaking out over his stalkerishbehavior, he allowed a self-congratulation for his genius move. Genius moveswere rare for him. “So I don’t forget whose lock I’m fixing. For the record, Iusually don’t do this kind of stuff.”
“You don’t fix locks?”
“No, I meant I don’t, uh …” Act like an asshat. “Goof off.”
Natalie’s graceful fingers covered her mouth, but they didn’thide her curving lips. Or hold back a giggle. “No goofing off. Duly noted.”
T.J. looked into entrancing amber eyes, and his heart bumpedagainst his ribs a little harder. For a beat, he swam in those eyes, lost,while he recorded every golden copper hue and chocolate fleck.
Her eyebrows crinkled in a silent question, and he cut hisgaze back to the slider, his hand shooting to the back of his head, smoothinghis hair. New thoughts raced through his brain, like why the hell being aroundher made him nervous. It wasn’t just the ever-present threat she’d discover hisidentity—the threat that hung over his head like an executioner’s ax. No, itwas something deep in his chest, the pit of his stomach, that rumbled andrippled and rolled and made him short of breath and brainpower.
Women he was attracted to usually inspired one body part,and it for damn sure wasn’t in his chest. But with her, every body partseemed to engage, as if his entire being was drawn to her. And it scared theliving shit out of him.
Normally women pursued him, and if they hit thatcertain chord, he’d more or less roll into a relationship, whether it lasted aweek or a year—although since Melissa, he hadn’t gone a full year. Thosegirlfriends got tired of not getting what they needed, what he was incapable ofgiving, and the wheels invariably came off the relationship bus. But the nextone would appear and take her place. If the breakups bothered him at all, itwas a surface scratch, nothing more. Like Julia. Sure,he missed the sex, but he’d been over her when his plane had touched down inDenver.
Was something seriously wrong with him? Were crucial piecesof his heart missing? Did he need to replace them? Intimacy. The wordstreaked through his brain like a dying comet.
If he were honest, the disappointments from brokenrelationships only grazed his outer layer because that’s as far as he let thoserelationships get.
But the woman in front of him, with her penetrating whiskeygaze that set off all kinds of zips and zaps inside him, affected himdifferently. Since meeting her, he was inspired to do better, to be better, tolook beyond himself. Maybe it was because he’d injured her boyfriend, but hesuspected it ran deeper. He didn’t get it and didn’t want to examine it. Butdeep down, he quietly acknowledged if he ever let her in, she could bring himto his knees.
None of it mattered because nothing was going to happen. Shewas devoted to Kevin May and showed no hint of being attracted to T.J. And hesure as hell wasn’t going after her, no matter how much he wanted to.
Kevin May was a potent deterrent. Not as a rival, butbecause T.J. had stripped the most important part of May’s life from him whenhe put him in the hospital. For all T.J.’s reputation as a heartless thug, herefused to steal another precious piece from the guy.
CHAPTER 15
Just Jameson and Me
The next morning, T.J. ran errands,Natalie never far from his mind. God, he hoped Paige hired her. He’d left Fordalone in the H1 and was now cruising Home Depot’s aisles, searching out what heneeded—including a can of silicone.
It had been a long time since he’d been in a hardware store.The smells and neatly stacked merchandise brought back better memories,memories of being shipped off to work at his uncle’s. The guy was cut from thesame gruff stuff as T.J.’s dad, but while he’d lashed T.J. verbally, he’d neverhit.
Plus, he’d seen something in T.J.’s game and had pushed himto play smarter, to play all out. And he’d paid for it all, out of his ownpocket—the leagues, the equipment, the travel. Hockey hadn’t been T.J.’s firstlove, but his uncle had given him a way out of his hellhole. T.J. could losehimself in playing the game and working with his hands, fixing things, buildingsomething with only wood and nails. His uncle was a master carpenter who hadtaught him how to puzzle out solutions to problems, who had taught him to usehis brain with his brawn. Too bad the guy hadn’t lived to see T.J. makeit to The Show.
All these thoughts were streaming through his head as he scannedhis purchases in the self-checkout, so he didn’t pay attention to people aroundhim. Until a guy at the register beside his said,
