Extract from chapter nine...
Maggie unlocked her cabin and stepped inside. Someone had already turned on the air conditioner. It rattled away on the wall blowing refrigerated air into the stuffy cabin. Dropping her duffle onto one of the bunk beds, she went into the bathroom. It was tiny but clean and supplied with fresh, fluffy towels.
Eager for a cup of tea, followed by a shower to wash off the day’s dust, she went back to the kitchen where she dug around in the cupboards and found tea bags and a mug. She filled the kettle and switched it on, and while waiting for the water to boil, opened her duffle and laid out fresh clothes and her toiletries bag.
The kettle had just started to whistle when a knock came on the door. She rolled her eyes.
Tea would have to wait.
After first switching off the kettle, she went to the door. Her eyes widened at the sight of Grayson standing on the narrow landing outside. She stared at him, stunned.
Hunched over and dripping, he had a wet, rust-stained towel wrapped around his lower half and dirty water pooling around his bare feet. On hearing the door open, he raised his head and winked at her.
Winked?
What the—?
Then she noticed suds and cloudy water running down his face and into his eyes. He wasn’t winking, he was just trying to blink the stuff out.
He went to speak but had to first spit out suds before saying in a rush, ‘Look, I’m sorry about this. While I was in the shower, the water pipes started hammering like you wouldn’t believe, and then water and filthy muck,’ and he pulled a face, ‘exploded from the taps. I tried turning the water off and on again, but only got covered in more gunk. The same crap was gushing out of the kitchen tap as well, so I grabbed my mobile and tried to call reception, but couldn’t raise anyone, and....’ He glanced down at himself and then back at her, wincing. ‘I can’t exactly walk over there like this.’
He looked wretched, standing there covered in a slimy combination of soap suds and what looked like the contents of a decades-old grease trap, holding his towel closed with one hand and clutching a clean set of clothes in the other.
Maggie’s heart went out to him. All the same, mirth bubbled in her throat. Taking care to swallow it, she stepped back and motioned for him to follow her inside. ‘Sure, use my bathroom. The water’s okay here … I think.’
When she rushed to the bathroom vanity and turned on a tap, clean water gushed obligingly from the faucet. She nodded at him and moved back into the kitchen. ‘All yours. Go on in.’
His sheepish look was spoiled when suds dripped into his eyes again, making him blink. ‘Thanks. I know it’s difficult ... in the circumst—’ He paused, blinking, and squinted at her through one eye. ‘I wouldn’t impose only—’
‘Don’t worry about it, it’s no big deal. Go ahead, I’ll just ... um … finish making my cuppa and have it out on the landing.’
‘Well, thanks again. I won’t be long.’ He went in and closed the bathroom door.
Her eyes widened and she breathed, ‘Wow,’ while trying not to dwell on the image of his smooth, round pectorals and firm stomach above the towel. Sucking in a deep breath, she lifted her chin and hurried to finish making her tea, humming to blot out the sounds of Grayson showering just a thin partition away.
As soon as it was ready, she took her steaming cup onto the landing. Closing the door behind her she leaned against it, squeezing her eyes tightly closed and letting her head sag back until it bumped against the painted veneer.
So much for keeping our distance. I not only have a dinner date with Grayson, I’m also sharing my bathroom with him! First Harry, and now the plumbing.
Is the whole universe conspiring to throw us together?
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