Chapter 2
After sourcing help via a business she found on Google, Ashley chose to get busy with cleaning up the mess in her house.
But in the back of her mind, she wondered if she should be panicking that the plumber hadn’t arrived after the request she made thirty minutes ago.
She really didn’t want her chances of being homeless that night to keep increasing.
Pulling the window blind to the side, Ashley wondered if this late response was because of how she worded her request.
She really couldn’t find any better way than, ‘Help, my pipes have been torn apart, and my kitchen is getting flooded,’ to put it.
The doorbell rang before she could spiral into overthinking mode.
The excitement that rushed through her as she headed for the door was one she hadn’t experienced in a while.
“Thank goodness, you are finally…” The rest of her words got stuck.
She had often read about women swooning at fine-looking men. She always thought it was ridiculous.
But there she was, unable to look away from this tall, gorgeous man who stared right back without batting an eyelid.
“Uhm…” Ashley craned her neck to check if this man had possibly missed his way.
But the toolbox and bundle of neat steel pipes resting at his feet assured her that he really was the plumber.
“Hello, ma’am.”
Her lips, without thinking twice, widened into a smile… most likely, a very embarrassing smile.
But that was the effect of his velvety voice, his mystical dark eyes and his tempting, lush lips!
“You messaged our company about some severely tortured pipes?”
“Uh… yes.” Ashley gulped. “Please come in.”
She could barely act normal as he stepped in and teased her nostrils with his scent— something that had a bit of citrus included in it.
“So where are these pipes?”
Something was certainly happening to Ashley.
She shuddered as if electrocuted as she stuttered, “In… In the k-kitchen. Follow… me.”
“You weren’t kidding,” he commented from behind her, feeling his warmth somehow.
As she wondered what it’d feel like to be hugged by him, he walked further.
“I should get to work.”
“Y-Yeah?”
As he lowered his knees into the pool and studied the mess, she found his broad back a sight she couldn’t look away from.
“What’s wrong with me?” she muttered, feeling the heat that had rushed into her cheeks.
“This is certainly a work of man,” the plumber said, his voice a tone deeper. “Do you know who did this?”
“That would be my crazy ex-husband,” she muttered, hoping he didn’t have sharp hearing.
“Ma’am?”
She jolted her attention back to his face. “Huh?”
“You said something,” he said with an arched brow.
“O-Oh…” She chuckled. “The..” She pointed wherever. “Would you like something to drink? Beer, maybe?
“Sure, thanks.”
When she reached the refrigerator (which she confirmed to be unplugged), she saw her reflection again and became worried.
She had been ogling at the man while looking like a gremlin that had been cursed for a thousand years.
“What am I thinking?” She chastised herself and opened the refrigerator. The reality of the kind of life she had been living stared back at her.
She had lots of bottled water, but zero beer.
“Uhm, Mr…”
“Dave,” the plumber replied.
For some reason, Ashley smiled because of his name.
“Would you prefer water?”
“Hmm. Seeing that my knees are deeply immersed in water already…. Uh… I doubt that.”
Ashley turned to face him.
Her chest thudded, a tingly feeling roused in every bit of her nerves.
The view of his exposed, dusky chest was so tempting.
If only she could run her hands through it.
“Do I get any other option apart from water?”
There was this twinkle in his eyes as he asked that question. It beckoned Ashley to come over and stay in them forever.
“Uhm…” She hid her hands behind her. “Tea is an option.”
“Tea it is,” he beamed. And he went back to work, his backside facing her again and increasing Ashley’s torture.
~~~
After two hours of intense work and many cups of tea, Ashley’s pipes were fully fixed, and her house was no longer feeling the threat of an incoming flood.
At this point, Dave the plumber was no longer shirtless.
And they were both seated in a corner of the living room after Ashley had summoned the courage to ask him to stay for one last cup of tea.
“It’s quite fortunate that I brought the right sizes of pipes. I took a gamble before leaving the company. It’s good it paid off.”
“That must be why you finished up so fast.” Ashley smiled. “That’s good.”
“Thank you,” he said after filling his cup with some heated water.
And as he lifted his right hand to drink, she fell into another trance, watching in awe at the view before her.
Dave then cleared his throat.
Quickly, she diverted her gaze to her cup, which was settled on the little table between them.
“So… what’s your story?” he surprisingly asked.
Her forehead furrowed with a light frown. “What do you mean by my story?”
“Ashley...”
Her frown deepened. “I never told you my name. How on earth do you know it?”
Dave crossed his arms. “It’s company policy to confirm our customer’s details.”
Ashley’s brows arched in further confusion.
His lips twitched. “You are Ashley Steve-Edwards, an entrepreneurial fashion designer. Interestingly, that’s all I could find out. Hence my question.”
His gaze didn’t break away from hers as he spoke, and she kept watching him closely, trying to find cracks.
Seconds later, she replied, “Ashley Steve. Just Ashley Steve.”
The ends of his mouth formed a dome shape. “So the rumours are true. You are divorced."
“If they are true, they shouldn’t be called rumours." She took a deep breath and exhaled. “Listen, Mr. Dave. This might sound rude, but it’s concerning if my plumber says he had to gather information about me.”
Her eyes lashed him during a brief silence. “Maybe I shouldn’t have served you tea at all.
“Miss Steve, the same way you vetted our company before choosing our services is the same way I had to know something about the occupant of the house I was coming to work at.”
Ashley recognised that he had a point. The security problems out there had created the need for those kinds of extra measures.
But she was not willing to give him the satisfaction of being right.
A sprinkle of disdain in her voice, she asked, “Is asking about my story also part of the company's procedure?”
“A busy woman like you is at home on a Tuesday afternoon with a kitchen that almost got flooded, there’s certainly a story. Also…” He breathed and glanced at her seated figure from head to toe. “I can’t ignore that sunken look in your eyes.”
Ashley subconsciously touched her face, wondering if her misery was that obvious.
“Well… Uh…” She cleared her throat. “It’s definitely a bad idea to share details of my life with a stranger so-”
He chuckled. “Do you check out every stranger that walks into your house, Miss Steve?”