Page 161 of No Need to Run

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Yeah, it’s not enough.

I sound pathetic.

I glance down at the stuff she unloaded from the bag.

“This is—” I gesture vaguely. “A lot.”

“It’s necessary,” she replies, straightening.

She looks at the bent nail I’ve unsuccessfully pounded into the wall. At my swollen, bruised thumb.

Her gaze flicks back to me. “You’re doing that wrong.”

I scoff. “I gathered that.”

She steps closer.

I breathe her in, holding her jasmine scent in my lungs.

“Give me the hammer.”

I hesitate… then hand it over.

She takes the nail between her fingers, positions it properly, and drives it in with two clean hits.

Done.

Then she places the item on the nail, making sure it’s centered.

I stare at it.

It’s… perfect.

“Are you a repair person?” I mutter.

She raises her brows. “Really?”

She hands the hammer back, her warm, soft fingers brushing mine.

“No.” I clear my throat, stepping back. “But I have no idea what I’m doing.”

“I noticed.” She smirks. “Come here.”

It’s not a request.

I listen.

Because apparently that’s something I do now.

She dips the putty knife into the spackling, then gestures toward the wall with all the tiny holes that need patching.

“Watch.”

She smooths it over the dent I made earlier, even and clean. Effortless.

Then she steps closer and hands me the knife. “Now you try it.”

I swallow hard.

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