All Grown Up(21)

I winked. “The feeling’s mutual. I admired your ass for most of your yoga class, so we’re even.” I wiggled my brows. “Be back to take care of your pipes.”





Chapter 8




* * *





Valentina



Ryan certainly didn’t look like that anymore.

I bit my lip, staring down at the lower half of Ford sprawled out on my kitchen floor. He’d taken apart my sink, found a crack in the drainpipe, and went to three different plumbing supply stores to find the right part—one all the way in East Hampton. Now he was shoulder-deep inside my cabinet, installing the new drain. I stood nearby, handing him the occasional tool and ogling his body. I couldn’t help myself. His dark T-shirt had ridden up, giving me a personal peep show starring rock-hard abs, a deep-set V, a tattoo that ran up his side, and a sexy-as-all-hell thin line of hair that ran down into his Calvin Klein underwear band. The view had my fingers itching to trace that happy trail all the way down to the end.

He twisted his body as he used the wrench to tighten something, and the V of his abs deepened. Jesus. On second thought, I was pretty sure Ryan never looked like that. I sighed, quietly mourning the loss of what was right in front of me—mere inches away—yet I’d never have.

Ford slid out from the cabinet, and I quickly averted my eyes, hoping I wouldn’t get caught checking him out a second time today.

“Go ahead. Give it a test run. Turn the water on.”

I leaned forward and lifted the handle on the faucet while Ford watched from beneath. After a minute, he smiled. “Good as new.”

“Wow. Thank you so much. I owe you big time. You’ll have to let me make you a nice dinner, at least.”

“How about you let me take you out to dinner instead?”

“That’s not repaying you the favor. It’s just adding to my debt.”

He raised a brow. “You can square up after our date.”

“Ford…”

“Relax. I’m joking. Sort of. How about a beer on the back deck instead?”

I smiled. “That sounds amazing, actually. Let me just clean up in here, and I’ll join you. There’s plenty of beer in the fridge.”

“Actually, I’m going to run next door and take a quick shower.” He held up his hands.

They were greasy and dirty. And manly. There’s something so sexy about a guy whose hands look like he isn’t afraid to do physical labor. Rugged hands had always been a turn-on for me. Then there were the tattoos on his muscular forearms. I really needed to stop finding things sexy about this man.

Boy…I mean boy.

He’s not a man, Valentina.

I looked at his broad shoulders. God, he really does look like one, though.

Needing a distraction, I started to clean up. “Okay. Sounds good. I’ll see you in a bit, then.”

Somehow I managed to not stare at his ass as he walked to the door this time.

After I cleaned up the mess in the kitchen, I went to the bedroom to get changed. The afternoon sun had started to heat up the house, and I knew the back deck would be scorching hot.

Picking an outfit proved more difficult than I thought. Normally, I’d just throw on my bathing suit with shorts or a cover up in the afternoon, but I didn’t want to look like I was trying to attract attention. My C-cups were difficult to hide under the best circumstances. I wound up changing three times and finally settled on a plain white T-shirt and a pair of old, ripped denim shorts. The shorts were a tad young for me, but Eve might’ve mentioned that my ass looked good in them. Plus, they were sort of messy looking, so it wouldn’t seem like I’d been trying too hard.

I came down the stairs just as Ford knocked on the front screen door.

“Hey.” He eyed my legs and grinned. “You look good.”

His hair was slicked back, still wet from the shower, and he had on nothing but a pair of board shorts and aviator sunglasses. I cleared my throat and tried to ignore the eight-pack and tattoos now on full display.

“Umm… Thanks. Do you want some sunscreen? The sun is roasting on the back deck at this time.”

God, I sound like his mother.

“Nah. I’m good. I don’t burn.”

I started to mentally prepare my UV rays are dangerous even if your skin doesn’t turn red speech, but I stopped myself. A twenty-five-year-old man doesn’t need a lecture.

Boy.

He’s a boy, Valentina.

I grabbed two beers from the fridge, and we went out on the back deck and sat side by side on two lounge chairs. Ford held out his beer to me. “To being back in Montauk.”

I clinked my bottle with his. “To being back in Montauk.”

The icy cold beer really tasted delicious. Ford must’ve agreed, since he made a loud ahhh sound when he’d finished guzzling half the bottle.

“I missed it out here,” he said. “I forgot how much I love it.”

“When was the last time you were out here? I know I haven’t seen you guys in years. But Ryan and I split use of the house, and I let him use it the last two seasons, so I could have missed you.”

“I haven’t been out since the summer before my parents died. I was definitely avoiding coming. This place is filled with so many memories. But so far I feel at peace being here. I guess enough time has passed now that I can remember the good times and appreciate them, rather than be bitter that they’re gone.”