Part 5 (2/2)
”Great.”
He reaches up, his t-s.h.i.+rt pulling tight across his broad shoulders and the biceps of his arm. He grips the big wrench tightly, muscles flexing and the ink across them rippling as he starts to twist at the pipe.
I quickly look away.
Temptations of the flesh.
”Hey, s.h.i.+ne that light over here?”
I move closer to him as I angle the flashlight up into the ceiling.
”Yep, this should-”
I shriek as the icy cold water erupts from the pipe, dousing us both instantly. Rowan swears loudly, sputtering under the spray as he quickly turns the wrench the other direction.
The water stops.
”f.u.c.k,” he mutters, spitting water and pus.h.i.+ng his hair out of his face as he turns back to me. ”Did you turn that k.n.o.b to the right or the-”
He freezes, and his eyes suddenly flicker with something hungry.
”I-”
I glance down and my eyes go wide before I quickly wrap my arms over my now completely see-through, totally clinging to my body wet white t-s.h.i.+rt.
”Well don't look,” I hiss as he just stands there grinning at me.
”Sorta hard not to, darlin'.” He makes a clucking sound with his tongue as he heads over to the tank and turns the k.n.o.b the correct way this time. ”Preacher's daughter walking around town without a bra, huh? Quite the scandal.”
”I was doing laundry,” I mutter, scowling at him as he strides back over. I swallow thickly. I'm not the only one that's been drenched. His own white t-s.h.i.+rt is soaked through, clinging to every bulge, groove, and hard-chiseled line of his chest. I can see his tattoos bleeding through the soaked cotton, my eyes tracing over them as I stand there like an idiot staring at him.
”Gla.s.s houses, angel.”
”What?”
Rowan chuckles as he raises the wrench back to the pipe. ”Well don't look,” he says in this ridiculously mocking falsetto voice.
”I don't sound like that.”
”Not at all.”
The wrench turns, and this time, we're not showered with freezing cold water. He tightens something else, muttering as he does, before stepping away. He goes back to the k.n.o.b on the tank and twists it.
”Alright, water should be working now.” He nods at the sink next to the washer and dryer. ”Give it a whirl.”
I turn on the faucet, and water splashes out.
”You're welcome.”
”Thank you.” I turn and smile genuinely at him. ”Honestly.”
”No problem.”
My eyes linger for another second on that chest of his, the way the s.h.i.+rt clings to every single groove of his abs. I clear my throat, looking away and tightening my arms over my chest.
”I'll walk you out.”
At the door, he turns. ”Hey, one last question.”
”Yeah?” I smile at him.
”You were doing laundry.”
”Yes.”
”Hence the, uh, lack of undergarments up top?”
I flush crimson, hastily looking at the floor. ”I think we've been over this.”
”Right, well, that just leaves one lingering question.”
”Which is?”
Rowan grins as he leans close. ”Well now I'm just dying to know if you're going commando under those khakis, too.”
”Commando?”
He wags his brows at me, and my face goes bright red all over again.
”Oh my G.o.d!” I blush furiously as he snorts a laugh.
”Good night, Rowan,” I hiss as I shove him - still laughing - out the front door and shut it behind him.
Chapter Six.
Rowan
<script>