Mr. H.O.A. by Carina Taylor (readera ebook reader .TXT) 📗

I have no idea how to do that type of stuff! You're not exactly a journeyman plumber either." He gestured to my wet shirt.

"No, I'm not, but—"

"I'm sorry I snapped," he interrupted.

I swallowed the lump in my throat. "You didn't snap..."

"It felt like I snapped. Anyway, obviously you didn't break the sink. That looks like a cheaply made faucet. We'll get it fixed."

"Well...thanks—for apologizing." It hadn't even crossed my mind that it was an issue that he was raising his voice. It had seemed fitting for the amount of water spraying everywhere. But now that he'd apologized, it seemed incredibly sweet that he was worried about having yelled at me.

"You working today?" I asked.

"Later this afternoon. I've got a couple of showings today."

"Do you ever have weekends off?"

"Unfortunately, most people who are looking to buy a house, work during the week and can't get away to see anything until late evenings or weekends. I'd rather work Saturdays than late evenings."

"Makes sense to me. So are we going to go shopping for a faucet this morning?"

"I guess so. I bet we can find an easy tutorial online that will help us fix it."

I waved a hand through the air. "Don't worry about that. Directions make everything so boring. Let's put on some dry clothes and go faucet shopping. Want me to drive?"

"No, thanks. I don’t need any crumbs stuck to my pants."

A wise guy. I glared at him and frowned exaggeratedly before I headed back down the hall to get dressed.

Five minutes later, we were sitting in his large SUV and were both wearing ball caps. It was my best shot at hiding my makeup-less face.

"Wal-Mart?"

I snorted. "You don't buy faucets from Wal-Mart."

"You could probably find one at Costco," he said with a grin.

"All right. I agree with you there. You can find just about anything you need at Costco. Besides, we’ll have to go somewhere civilized to buy it."

"Hey, I take offense that you don't think Riverly is civilization."

"Riverly is charming. It's centrally located, and I love it. But we need a faucet and I can't think of anywhere in town where we could get one."

He smiled. "Okay, I guess I forgive you for knocking Riverly. But there is a hardware store in town. Let’s check there before we drive to Burnside."

"Well, I didn't apologize for knocking Riverly."

"How many times can we say Riverly in a conversation?"

"At least once more. Riverly."

We chuckled and fell into a companionable silence as we drove the rest of the way into town to find the hardware store.

It didn't take long to buy a faucet. We drove home singing along to today's hits.

"That's not fair."

"What's not fair?" Bane asked as he pulled into the garage.

"You look good, and you have a great voice. It's disgustingly unfair."

"I have no idea what you’re talking about. Didn't you hear yourself? You've got yourself some lungs, woman. I could listen to you sing all day long." He smiled and shut the car off as I sat there feeling as though I could float on air. He liked my voice. Obviously he hadn't meant anything overly deep by giving me that compliment, but maybe that's why it meant more. It was genuine, not something motivated by a desire to impress me.

"You coming in?" Bane asked as he grabbed the faucet box out of the back of the car.

"Yup, I'll be right there." I hurried and unbuckled before following him through the garage and into the house.

Bane set the box down on top of the closed toilet lid in the bathroom. He groaned. "We forgot any tools we might need!"

Knowing what I did about my dad, I had a pretty good guess he would have everything we needed.

"Have you checked the room in the garage yet?" I asked.

"No, I assumed it was locked."

"I'll be right back." I dashed back through the house and into the garage. The door to the room was locked. But the key was resting on the top of the door frame, which I found after I climbed on top of a five-gallon bucket.

Unlocking the door, I stepped inside, feeling along the wall for the light switch. When I flicked it on, yellow light illuminated the room. Shining tools of every kind filled the shelves. All of it looked unused. It didn't take me long to find what I was looking for. I juggled everything in my arms and struggled to close the door after me. It took me longer to get back to the bathroom than it did to run to the garage.

"Wow. I take it you found out how to get into the room," Bane said as he looked up from where he was kneeling on the floor emptying the box of faucets.

"Found what I needed!"

"Okay. I found the model number, and I'm searching for a YouTube tutorial. I'm sure there's one out there."  He held up his smartphone for me to see.

Fighting a laugh, I knelt down next to him and laid down my tools. "We don't need a tutorial."

"Nola, I appreciate your sense of adventure, but replacing a faucet isn't the time to wing it," Bane told me in a patronizing tone.

I snorted. "Bane. I've replaced a faucet before."

"What?"

I grabbed the screwdriver and leaned over the sink, undoing the heat controls. "It's not rocket science. You don't have to worry."

Bane rocked back on his heels and watched me get to work. I had the old faucet removed in less than five minutes. It felt good to get back to working with my hands.

"Where did you learn to do this?" Bane asked.

"My dad taught me." I sighed. It was one of the things I missed most about working with my dad. His love of projects must have been genetic. Nothing beat being able to actually see your progress too.

While my work in the group home was soul satisfying (most of the time), there wasn't an immediate satisfaction or sense of accomplishment that could be obtained by completing a do-it-yourself project.

Bane sat on the closed toilet lid. "All right. You're