What Matters Most

by Longley, Barbara

  He let her walk a little ahead of him up the stairs so he could ogle. She wore her hair in a French braid, something he’d never imagined he’d see on a plumber. Average in height, but way above average in build, her short-sleeved twill shirt showed off well-defined biceps, and he suspected he’d find the rest of her equally toned. “So, a plumber, huh?”

  “So, a lawyer, huh?”

  “Defensive much?” he teased, or was he flirting? He was so out of practice, he no longer knew how to make the distinction. His comment elicited a long sigh in response, that and a sidelong look of annoyance. Somebody had gotten up on the wrong side of the bed this morning. What had caused the pretty plumber’s bad mood? Could it be because all her male clients patronized her the way he had? His curiosity piqued, he wanted to know what was bothering her.

  Damn. Did he need a distraction so desperately he was tempted to pry into the personal life of the first service person to show up at his home? Get a grip, and mind your own business. She’d fix his sink, and he’d never see her again.

  They’d reached the second-floor landing, and he stopped. “It’s too early in the morning to be a bad day already. Can we start over?”

  “Sure.” She turned to face him, her tone not sounding at all like she wanted to start over. “Hi, I’m Josey Haney, a full partner in Haney & Sons Construction and Handyman Services. I chose to be a plumber because there are fewer and fewer plumbers around, and it seemed like a smart choice. The more rare one is, the more in demand one becomes. The more in demand one becomes, the more financially secure they are.”

  “Sound reasoning.” He’d play along. “Hello, I’m William Prescott, and I’m a lawyer.” He reached out his hand. “My friends call me Will.” She obliged him with a handshake. As brief as that contact was, her touch intrigued him enough that he didn’t want to let go, but he did. Her palms were hardened with calluses, yet her skin was soft to the touch. Josey couldn’t be any more alluringly female, yet she’d chosen a trade dominated by men.

  “Unlike plumbers, lawyers are a dime a dozen.” He shrugged and stuck his hands into his front pockets. “Can’t say I’m rare, but I can say I’m good at what I do.” Too good. Regret soured his stomach. He was certain the plaintiffs in his most recent triumphs hadn’t known enough to retain higher profile law firms working on a percentage basis. They’d both chosen lawyers who charged exorbitant by-the-hour fees. Win or lose, their attorneys made a killing, and he’d been the shmuck to make certain they’d lost.

  “So, William Prescott, if lawyers are a dime a dozen, why did you choose to go into the field?” She tilted her head back and her eyes met his in a steady, assessing gaze.

  He studied her while she studied him. Well, look at that. His plumber wore makeup on the job. Did she wear lacy pink underthings too, a matching bra and panty set under her nondescript uniform perhaps?

  “I don’t know anymore.” He hadn’t meant to say that out loud. “Um, what I mean is, lots of lawyers in the family, so it was expected, but I …” He frowned and rubbed the back of his neck.

  “I think we all have days where we second-guess what we’re doing with our lives. I know I do, especially when I’m working on a particularly gross job. Clogged toilets and sewer drains are the absolute worst. You have no idea,” she said, giving a mock shudder. “I prefer new construction.”

  “I can imagine.” He grinned.

  “Too bad second thoughts seem to happen once we’re already heavily invested in our current career path,” she said. “Makes it kind of hard to change directions.”

  Not only pretty, but wise as well. “Exactly.” He cleared his throat. “So, the sink.” Will led her down the hall to his bedroom, glad he’d taken the time to make his bed and tidy up before his plumber arrived. His plumber? He hazarded another surreptitious glance, and his imagination slid into the erotica zone again. Good thing women couldn’t see what went on inside a man’s head. Because if this plumber could see what was running through his, she’d leave in a big hurry.

  He steered his thoughts away from sex, which wasn’t easy since he hadn’t had any for way too long to put a number to his dry spell. He’d become a slave to his job, which left no time for personal pleasures. Hence, these next two weeks off, dedicated to recovering from severe burnout.

  At the end of which, he would return to his job with renewed, shark-like vigor and dive into screwing another soul trying to right a wrong. Poor bastard. He or she didn’t stand a chance. Will’s gut twisted. What would his job cost him in the long run? He’d already given up having a social life. Would his soul be next on the sacrificial altar of career advancement? He needed to figure out if he wanted to continue doing this for the rest of his life—and if not, what next?

  “Well, at least you have furniture in this room.”

  “Hmm?” His attention swiveled back to Josey.

  She nodded toward his bedroom. “I said … at least you have furniture in this room.”

  He also had furniture in his family room off the kitchen, but that room wasn’t visible from the foyer. He did enjoy watching the occasional game or movie. “Yeah. I haven’t gotten around to the living room yet. I work a lot of hours, and I don’t entertain. Decorating hasn’t been a priority.”

  “I see.”

  Did she? Maybe the state of his home revealed too much about him. Josey the plumber slid past him into his cavernous master bathroom, and he caught a whiff of something sweet and floral. Utterly feminine. He inhaled the last trace of her scent and followed her into his bathroom. He’d personally chosen the travertine floor, the granite countertop boasting his-and-hers sinks, and his favorite feature, the skylight. The master bath also had a huge, glassed-in shower with surround spray, and a great, ultramodern bathtub large enough for two.

  When he’d had his three-bedroom townhouse designed, he’d done so with a couple in mind. He figured eventually he’d be part of a pair, and one day they’d have children to fill the two empty bedrooms. He imagined he and his wife might enjoy soaking together in luxurious bubbles at the end of a busy day. Then they’d move to their top-of-the-line, king-size bed to relax, share the goings on of their day, and … He slid right back into the erogenous region of his brain. Would the plumber notice if he knocked his head against the wall?

  As Josey prepared to work, her captivating contradictions struck him yet again. Dressed in gender-neutral work clothes, she wore perfume, or maybe what he’d caught was the scent of a girly shampoo she used. No. Definitely perfume. She also wore makeup, and he’d bet his next paycheck her toenails were painted red inside those steel-toed leather work shoes. Sexy as hell.

  She turned on both sinks. The one he never used, drained immediately. The other, not so much. Josey took out a flashlight from her toolbox, opened the cabinet beneath the sink and peered inside.

  “The fact that the other sink drains just fine is an indication the clog is most likely in the trap of this one. Soap scum builds up, and hair and other stuff gets trapped. There are two ways we can go about this. I can snake it out in no time, or I can take the trap off and unclog it that way. If I do the latter, and you watch, you’ll know how to unclog it yourself next time. Which would you prefer?” she asked as she rose from the floor. “Just so you know, this isn’t exactly what you’d call challenging for a plumber, male or female. This easily qualifies as a do-it-yourself job.”

  “In that case, I’d like you to teach me how to deal with future clogs on my own.” What a crock. He did his best to look sincere. He was sincere … about watching her work.

  Josey once again gazed around his opulent bathroom designed for more than one single, workaholic lawyer. Did it strike her as odd that he lived alone in a home built for a family? Right now, it struck him as oddly painful. He drew in a long breath in an attempt to ease the ache.

  “All right, I’ll teach you how to unclog a sink,” she said. “Do you have a bucket?”

  “Yep. It’s in the laundry room. I’ll be right back.”

  “
Great, I’ll clear out the cabinet while you’re gone.”

  He did a mental inventory of what she might find beneath the sink. Nothing incriminating. He kept his condoms in the nightstand beside his bed. Like his living room, the condoms didn’t get any use either. He hurried back downstairs to his main-floor laundry room where he kept all his cleaning supplies, not that he ever used them. He hired help for that. Working seventy-hour weeks didn’t leave him much time for domestic chores.

  He loved his large, state-of-the-art kitchen, but he rarely used that room either, other than to make his morning coffee and toast before rushing off to work. How depressing was it that he spent far more time at the office and in courtrooms than he did in his own home? How pathetic was it that he had no social life? He’d begun to detect a pattern, and dissatisfaction leaped out as the overarching theme. Not even the thrill of becoming the youngest lawyer in his firm ever to make junior partner offset his current malaise.

  Will grabbed the plastic bucket and strode back upstairs. Having Josey here gave him the rare opportunity to talk to a human being about something other than litigation. Maybe they’d connect. Will walked into his bathroom and set the bucket on the floor beside her.

  She’d placed the contents of his cabinet out of the way against the wall and put a knee pad on the floor. She was currently opening a very large wrench as far as it would go. Jo set the wrench on the knee pad and the bucket under the curved part of the PVC pipe. “Ready to learn how to unclog a sink, Mr. Lawyer?” she asked, granting him his very first smile.

  Damn, it was only a smile, yet his heart perked up and took notice. “Sure.” He couldn’t remember ever experiencing this kind of instant attraction before. Must be due to his current internal crisis. Or, could it be getting eight hours of sleep for a change had reawakened his sex drive?

  Her flashlight aimed at the interior of the cabinet, Josey disappeared from the shoulders up. Will crouched down behind her, ostensibly to watch what she was doing but far more interested in the view she presented from behind.

  “I’m loosening the connections to the trap.” She touched the looped section. “That’s this curved part.”

  “Uh-huh.” His gaze caught on the way her work pants snugged across her curvy bottom. Her work shirt tightened too, revealing a womanly figure no longer hidden by baggy twill. His blood rushed south, and the stirrings of an erection soon followed.

  “Hey.” She’d twisted to glower at him from over her shoulder. “You aren’t going to learn much by staring at my butt.”

  He begged to differ. He was learning plenty.

  “Eyes on the PVC, Mr. Prescott.”

  “I have no idea what you’re talking about. I am watching what you’re doing. You’re loosening the connections.” Will flashed her an unrepentant grin.

  “Hmph.” She glared at him for another second before turning back to the trap.

  Even her glares were sexy. That settled it. He’d go wreck a couple faucets if he had to, just to get her back to his house again. Then he’d ask her out. Something had to change in his life, and maybe getting to know Josey-the-plumber might help him out of his slump.

  His attention alternated between what she was doing and how fascinating he found her. “Do you work out, Josey? You look like you might,” he blurted, not really meaning to ask that out loud either.

  “Yep. Five days a week, for at least eight hours a day,” she snapped, flashing him another over-the-shoulder scowl. “Did I forget to mention what I do for a living?”

  He laughed. Hell, when was the last time he’d had a good laugh, or enjoyed a woman’s company? A mental list of plumbing-related items in his home formed in his mind as he continued to appreciate the view in front of him. He had two weeks. Perhaps he could come up with other plumbing issues needing to be fixed. This was going to be an interesting staycation, and he finally had something in his life to look forward to: plumbing repairs.

  CHAPTER TWO

  Josey steered her Toyota truck into a metered parking spot next to Mears Park. She hadn’t even stopped at home to change before heading to The Bulldog. She was that eager to be with her posse. She wanted to ask her sister-in-law a few questions about a particular good-looking lawyer. Since unclogging his sink on Monday, Prescott had specifically requested her for two more service calls. Both jobs had been ridiculously unnecessary, but it was his dime. Who was she to argue? Jo climbed out of her truck, took care of the parking meter and zipped her jacket.

  Meeting her brothers at The Bulldog, or anywhere else for that matter, had become a rare event, another unhappy change in her life. They used to get together all the time, meeting after work, or for lunch, grabbing a game of pool during the weekends. Now she hardly ever spent any time at all with her brothers. At least Wyatt, Kayla and their little boy lived in the same building as Jo. It also helped that she and her brothers worked together frequently.

  Who could blame Sam and Wyatt for having lives of their own? Both were occupied—one with wedding plans, and the other with impending parenthood. More often than not, Jo felt like a fifth wheel … everywhere. Where did she fit in now that everyone’s lives had shifted away from hers?

  She crossed the street and headed for The Bulldog’s front door. As usual, the popular bar and grill was packed during happy hour, and Jo had to push her way through a crowd to get a glimpse of the dining area. Wyatt half-stood from the high-top table next to the bar, and Kayla, his fiancée, waved.

  Jo snaked her way to them and took a seat. “Hey, you two.” She shrugged out of her jacket. “You look ready to burst, Wyatt. What’s up?”

  “I have a release date for the first issue of my Elec Tric series,” he said, his smile stretching from ear to ear.

  “Awesome!” She high-fived her little brother. Not only was he an excellent electrician, but a creative genius as well. “When will it be out? I want an autographed copy, by the way.”

  Kayla leaned over the table and raised her voice to be heard over the background din. “Right before our honeymoon. The publisher wants Wyatt to sign at their booth during Comic Con.”

  The two had planned their wedding and their New York City honeymoon to coincide with a comic book convention in Rochester Wyatt’s publisher wanted him to attend. “Makes sense.” The waitress came, and Jo ordered a beer. She twisted around to look through the front window. “Where are Sam and Haley?”

  “Haley had an ultrasound late this afternoon,” Wyatt told her. “They should be here any minute.”

  “Ah.” She studied her brother. Since meeting Kayla and falling in love, Wyatt carried himself differently. He no longer hunched over or hid in the depths of his ever-present hoodies. Anybody who looked at him today would see a happy, confident man, immensely pleased with his life. Though she and Sam had been telling him for years the burn scars on his neck and ear were hardly noticeable, it had taken Kayla to finally get it through his thick skull.

  Jo’s throat tightened. They had Kayla to thank for Wyatt’s transformation, and she couldn’t be more pleased for her brother, or more envious of the relationship he and Kayla shared. “How are the wedding plans coming along? Have you found your dress yet?” Their wedding would take place at the grand old church in Saint Paul where her grandparents had attended services since their own wedding nearly fifty years ago.

  Wyatt flashed Kayla a lopsided grin. “I ordered a Wonder Woman costume for her to wear. So far she’s refusing to walk down the aisle as my own personal superhero, but I’m not done trying to persuade her.”

  “Yes, I’ve had my wedding dress for a while now.” Kayla rolled her eyes at Wyatt and nudged his shoulder with hers. “Be grateful I agreed to the comic book theme, and stop pushing. I’m not walking down the aisle half-naked in front of everybody.”

  “Oh, I am grateful. It’s going to be amazing.” Wyatt radiated happiness. “My attendants and I are definitely going to make an impression. Everything has been planned and ordered.” He wrapped his arm around Kayla.

  “It’s
going to be pretty awesome,” Kayla admitted. “I love that our wedding will be unique. We have the disc-jockey hired; the cake is ordered, and we’ve chosen the menu for the reception. Other than favors and decorations, we’re set.”

  “Sounds like fun, and I can’t wait. If there’s anything I can do to help, let me know.”

  “So, who are you bringing as your date?” Kayla stirred her drink with the skinny plastic straw.

  “Umm … I don’t know yet.” She’d responded “yes” to the plus one question on the invitation, because she’d been seeing someone she’d hoped would stick around. He hadn’t. The story of her life. Jo picked up her menu and studied the appetizers, even though she could recite the entire menu by rote.

  She could not show up stag at her brother’s wedding. All the aunties, uncles and cousins would be on her case, making awful comments like, “Don’t worry; you’ll find someone.” Or, “You’ll be next.” And then there was her least favorite, “You’re so attractive. I don’t understand why you’re still single, Jo.”

  She’d have to sit down and make a list of every guy she’d ever helped out with a car repair or free plumbing. She’d call and remind each and every one of them they owed her until someone agreed to be her date. Pathetic.

  “Haley and Sam are here.” Wyatt once again stood and waved.

  Jo snorted as Sam turned into the equivalent of a human snowplow, trying to clear a path for his pregnant wife. Did he fear a bump or a nudge might harm her or their baby? Greetings and hugs happened all around as the couple settled at the table.

  “Anybody want to know what we’re having?” Sam asked.

  “Fried pickles, I’m guessing,” Jo quipped. “You’ll order a beer, no mug, and Haley will have a soda water with a squeeze of lime. Is there a prize for getting it right?”

  “I meant the gender of our baby,” Sam said.

  “No kidding.” She flashed him a you’re-an-idiot look.

  “Yes.” Kayla clapped her hands. “Tell us.”