Selecting the right sized shingle was easy enough, but juggling it with the hammer and nail proved infinitely more difficult. Before she could bring the tool to bear, the nail slipped out of her fingers to land on the porch floor and roll, inevitably, between the cracks to the dirt below. The third time it happened, she muttered an expletive.
“Flink.” Angel filter struck again.
“The trick is to start the nail before you set the shingle into place.”
Frowning, Adriel whirled to see a strange man standing at the edge of the porch. Her startled green eyes locked onto a pair the blue-gray of storm clouds on a winter day. His twinkled while hers fired.
“Who are you?” The hammering of her heart came from being startled, of that she was certain. Mostly.
“Callum McCord. We’re neighbors.” Elbows resting on the top of her porch railing, Callum seemed in no hurry to move along.
“Oh. I see.” The newly human part of Adriel insisted on cataloging his physical attributes. Those soft gray eyes under a canopy of heavy, dark lashes winked out at her from a face that could have been chiseled on a statue back home. Wet hair slicked back from his face appeared jet black, but would probably dry to mahogany. A pair of cheerful dimples flashed into place every time he smiled.
Before she could lock it down, her gaze lowered to take in the rest of him.
Broad, tanned-to-perfection shoulders bared to the sun by some type of sleeveless outer garment rested above a chest that stretched that garment tightly. Made from orange-colored ribbed material that looked soft to the touch, it skimmed down the taut plain of his belly to where it was tucked into a pair of well-worn jeans.
While the mortal inside her enjoyed the spectacle, Adriel’s inner angel insisted his soul was the more important component, and she should stop admiring his form.
“Adriel.” She held out her hand in the human form of greeting, then bit her lip gently when the clasp of his sent a frisson of energy through her that any normal woman would have recognized as attraction. She found it unsettling.
“Want me to show you?”
His words seemed out of place now that her mind had wandered away from the earlier conversation. “What?”
“The shingle. Starting the nail.” His tone, one that indicated he was beginning to wonder if Adriel was scatterbrained, was punctuated by a single raised eyebrow.
“Oh.” She handed him the hammer. “Go right ahead.” Shake it off, she told herself.
Callum picked a shingle from the top of the bundle. “So you lay the shingle down flat like this,” he bent to lay the thin piece of wood on the porch floor, “take a nail,” he held one up to show her, “position it where it should go, and gently tap it once or twice. Just enough to start the nail into the wood, but not hard enough to push it all the way through.” With a deft motion he applied just the right amount of force. When he lifted the shingle up from the floor, the nail held its place.
Then, going to the wall, he slid the shingle into position and tapped the nail with two harder strikes to drive it home.
“See? Simple.”
Still a bit flustered over the rush of unwanted feelings, Adriel reached for the polite words the situation warranted. “Yes, thank you.” What she really wanted to say was, given enough time, she would have come up with the idea on her own. It might even have been true. But probably not. Who knew what would have come out of her if she’d tried to voice the lie.
“What do you think of Mrs. Keough’s ditch.” The brightly colored plastic chair creaked under his weight as Callum made himself at home on the porch. The way he kicked his feet out in front of him made it look like he planned on staying for a long visit.
“I could have lived without the incessant beeping in the morning.”
“Not a morning person?”
“Why does everyone keep asking me that? Do I have a sign pinned on my back?”
“Turn around and let me look.” Callum’s tone shivered over newly discovered nerves.
To cover her discomfort, Adriel turned away to select her next shingle. Having watched him, she now knew exactly what to do. Two gentle taps set the nail as expertly as Callum’s had done. If she hadn’t already had it, her sure movements would have gotten his full attention. One eyebrow quirked while he watched her set the shingle and drive the nail home.
“You’re a quick study.”
“What? It’s not rocket science. Now, what were we talking about?”
“The ditch. What do you think of Lydia’s masterpiece? It’s the big topic around town. That and where did the gorgeous creature slinging pie and cake over at Just Desserts come from.” Face flaming, Adriel searched her mind for a diplomatic answer.
“Surely my opinion on town matters is unimportant.”
“And you’re not going to settle my curiosity on the other question, either. Don’t worry, I already know where you came from.” Callum’s booted feet hit the floor with a heavy sound as he levered himself out of the flimsy plastic chair.
“Oh really?”
“Sure.” Callum swept a look from Adriel’s head to her toes, “Woman as fine as you must have come from heaven.”
How could he know? Adriel’s pulse pounded until her ears drummed the sound. It was just a lucky guess. Nothing more.
“See you later, Angel.” Callum tossed the words carelessly over one shoulder and walked away without a backward glance, leaving Adriel to sink into the chair still warm from his body heat.
***
“That was one fine looking man.” Adriel twisted around so fast the legs on the chair couldn’t keep up with her. The whole thing started to go over, and if her reflexes were any less keen, Adriel would have gone down with it. Instead, she regained her footing and squared off against the newcomer who was now leaning sideways for a better view of Callum walking
