"He told me you could fix it."

Part of me convincing my dad a few years ago that buying an investment property in a place like Shelter Harbor was a smart move was promising to be the go-to maintenance guy for the place.

I groan, glancing around the still-full bar.

"Don't suppose this can wait until tomorrow?"

She makes face. "There's literally no running water in the house."

"Right, right. Okay, f.u.c.k it."

She stiffens at the language, and I roll my eyes as I turn and lean over the bar.

"Hey, you okay back there if I ditch for a while?"

Jade raises a brow at me, smirking. "Bible study?"

I flip her off. "Water main."

"Please don't tell me you're going to go help her fix a pipe."

I grin. "You might be the most non-dude dude I know."

"p.e.n.i.s envy."

"Good luck with that. Seriously though, call me if this place gets nuts."

"Praise be."

I roll my eyes again as I turn back to Eva. "Let's go get your shower working."

Chapter Five.

Evangeline

"My father and mother and Chast.i.ty are up at the church with your father."

I immediately have no idea why I felt a need to explain to him why the house is empty as I open the front door.

Rowan chuckles. "What, is he doing another one of those hilarious Sat.u.r.day night youth ministries things up there?"

"Oh, I think they're just going over stuff for the week for the project."

He nods as he moves through the kitchen to the bas.e.m.e.nt door before he stops and glances back at me. "Wait, who's Chast.i.ty?"

"Oh, she came with us. She's a friend from our parish back home."

"Is your friend a stripper?"

I snort, before immediately feeling awful for laughing and straightening my face. "No," I say quickly, "she is not."

"Wasted opportunity with that name."

I roll my eyes as I follow him down the stairs. We reach the bottom, and I suddenly gasp and lunge forward as he heads towards the side table where I was just attempting to sort laundry before I realized the water wasn't working.

"Oh, um, hang on."

I push past him and start shoving my laundry back into the hamper.

"Sorry," I mumble, turning back to see him grinning at me with his arms over his chest. "I was about to do laundry. That's why I'm wearing this, actually," I add in for some stupid reason.

Rowan grins.

"What?"

"You're twenty-one?"

"Yes."

"And yet, you own an outfit that consists of an over-sized youth ministry t-shirt that tucks into khakis."

I scowl at him. "It's just a shirt and pants, I don't see what the big deal is."

He shrugs as he moves past me to the shelving next to the table and starts pulling down a flashlight and a set of wrenches. "I'm just saying, I think I preferred that hot little sundress over this church-mom look."

I roll my eyes. "Trust me, the way I dress is in no way influenced by your opinion."

"Too bad. I think my opinion has better fashion sense than you."

My face sours, and I'm about to say something biting in return when he chuckles. "Relax, sweetheart. I'm just teasing you." He moves to a set of pipes running across the ceiling of the bas.e.m.e.nt. "This joist was causing issues earlier. Do me favor," he pa.s.ses the flashlight. "Can you head over there to the tank and crank the k.n.o.b to the right?"

I s.n.a.t.c.h the flashlight from his hand and march across the room. "Well if the water worked, I could've worn my sundress, or any other of the very nice clothes I have, thank you very much."

"So you're saying you would dress up for me?"

"What? No, I-"

"How's that k.n.o.b?"

"Twisted," I mutter.

"Great."

He reaches up, his t-shirt 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, shine 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 pushing 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-shirt.

"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-shirt 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 shirt 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