What a Bachelor Needs (Bachelor Auction Book 4)(7)

“Yep.”

Jett sighed heavily, because somehow… he wasn’t quite sure how… that right there had become his problem. “I should intervene.”

“You should,” Sawyer said approvingly. “While I watch from here.”

*

“Ella Grace, I don’t want him. I can’t use him. Even if he’s God’s gift to home repairs I don’t have the money to so much as buy that man a box of nails. What’s he going to work with? Thin air?”

“You’re really running that low on money?”

“Yes!” Mardie hated admitting it, especially to her wealthy friend who’d just dropped a couple of thousand dollars on a bachelor she didn’t need. “And don’t you dare start trying to give me things. You start down that road and we may not be able to remain friends. Drop it, Ella. Please.”

But Ella had that determined glint in her eyes. “A porch that doesn’t sway. Think about it.”

“I’ll fix it when I have the funds.”

“Locks on doors and windows.”

“I have a system.” Granted, it involved wooden rods and bits of chain, but it worked.

Ella Grace folded her arms in front of her and studied Mardie intently, looking for cracks and finding them. “Child proofing. Safety locks on cupboards. Doorstops. Window stops. An indoor play area. An outdoor play area for the summer. Fencing. Safety gates.”

“None of which will happen if I don’t get back to work.”

“What’s the bet Jett can fix plenty of things without having to buy any new materials at all?” Ella said.

“What’s the bet he can’t?”

“You are so stubborn.”

“Me? Me?”

“Problem, ladies?” It was him, Jett Casey. Even better – and bigger – up close than he had been from a distance, and he smelled like every good thing that had ever come Mardie’s way. A hint of woodsy cologne with a warm base of man-scent underneath. Strange that she still remembered the way he smelled after almost two years. Or maybe not so strange, given that she’d had her face pressed against his chest for long, long minutes while they’d waited for an ambulance.

“I was just… saying…” Dammit, couldn’t the man have gotten a little less gorgeous over the years?

“Jett, do you come with your own tools and nails?” Ella asked blithely.

“It’s called a toolbox. Every handyman has one.” He answered Ella but he was looking at Mardie and his eyes were assessing. “I also have access to a barn full of new and old building materials. My family’s allergic to throwing anything away that might come in handy later. My great grandfather started it.”

He’d overheard them talking about money, more specifically, her lack thereof. Mardie felt her face heat. “I’m sorry. I appreciate the opportunity to have you work on my house, but the timing’s just not right. You two should go skiing instead. It’ll be fun.” She tried on a smile for good measure. “Don’t give her any kind of head start. Fair warning.”

“About that.” This time he ran a hand around the back of his neck and glanced in Ella’s direction. “I’m off the mountain for six weeks because of injury. Buck probably thought it best not to mention it.”

Ella Grace beamed. “See?” she told her friend. “He’d rather be a handyman for a week than go skiing. C’mon, Mardie. Jett gets to recover from injury, you get some things fixed around your house, and I get to feel good about helping Molly and Josh.”

“And me,” Mardie muttered.

“Everyone’s a winner.” Ella Grace nodded. “Especially if I swear to demand my pound of flesh out of you at some other time and in some other way. Say yes.”

“It’s no problem,” said Jett, weighing in, and Mardie watched helplessly as a rogue’s smile lit his face and took him from beautiful to breathtaking in an instant.

She wanted to help him, she did. She owed him, and if there was any way to balance that out a bit she’d take it. But this didn’t feel like her helping him; it felt like charity and she hated being on the receiving end. “What did you injure?”

“The anterior cruciate ligament in my left knee.”

“Bad for a skier.” She knew that much. “What about this year’s World Championship events?”

“Gone. For me, at any rate. It’s why I’m here. Looking for something to keep me busy.”

“Won’t a torn knee ligament stop you from doing handyman work as well?”

“No. Regular movement strengthens it.”

Maybe he did see this as the better of his two options. And as for Ella… Mardie spared a glare for her sneaky, bachelor-buying friend. Ella would keep.

“Monday morning, any time after seven,” she told Jett, and tried to sound more welcoming than she felt. “I need to get back to work now.”

“Okay.” He was all easy charm and approachability and she made the mistake of looking at him again.

One moment she was in the bar, and with the next breath she was back in that godforsaken alley, only it hadn’t been quite so godforsaken after all, because somehow Jett had found her and tethered her to the world and to him. She owed him, she owed him and Ella both, for different reasons, and a little bit of gratitude wouldn’t hurt. “I’m sorry, let me try that again. Thank you, both of you. I appreciate it.”