Page 67 of Never Been Matched
* * *
“Do you need anything else before I take off?” I pick up my hammer and power drill from the kitchen counter and stick them in my tool bag.
Vivien tucks a strand of hair behind her ear. “I don’t think so. You did too much, I think.”
I’m prolonging the inevitable. The house is ready. The heat was turned on three days ago, the day after the Graham Deadwyler night that ended up being Rear Window night.
I spent more time watching Vivien sitting in front of me than James Stewart with his telescope. I found the thought of his neighbor being a murderer slightly less revolting than watching Graham glance over at Vivien during the movie. What was he looking at?
She handed him her phone while everyone was milling around in the lobby before the show. The entire town saw it and immediately commented on it.
“They would have beautiful babies.”
“He needs someone to bring him out of his shell.”
“They look perfect together.”
I shake away the memories and pull myself back to the present. “It’s nothing.”
“You didn’t have to fix the broken closet door, or the running toilet, and you definitely didn’t have to stock the fridge full of enough food to feed the entire neighborhood.”
I shrug. “It was no big deal. I showed Audrey how to fix the toilet if it starts running again. You just have to push the stopper down so the tank will fill. I’ll bring a replacement by later this week.”
She lifts a hand. “Wait a minute. You showed Audrey how to fix a toilet?”
“She asked.”
Her mouth drops open. “She asked? Hold on, I need to look outside and see if Dorothea’s pigs are flying.”
I chuckle. “She is clueless about a lot, I’ll give you that, but it seems like she’s trying to learn.”
“I guess,” Vivien murmurs. A crease forms between her brows.
“When will your car be ready?” I ask.
“In a couple days.”
“That’s good.”
I want to say more. But what? I want you? I can’t say that. I shouldn’t even be thinking it.
Except she’s staring at me too. She glances away, biting her lip. What is she thinking?
My phone dings with a text.
* * *
Are you coming back soon? I have to run home real quick to check on Mom.
* * *
It’s from Quinn.
“I have to get back to the office.” I text Quinn to go ahead and take off since I’m on my way and then slip the phone back in my pocket.
“Of course. Thanks again.”
By the time I’m unlocking the office door, I’ve managed to pull myself together.
