Joan Kilby - Two Against the Odds

He was working on the skeleton clock. His shirt-sleeves were rolled up over forearms smattered with dark hair. His hands were well shaped, his long fingers delicately manipulating the inner workings with a tiny screwdriver and tweezers.

She sank into the chair next to him.

“I replaced a spring, tightened a few things.” He sat back. From the compartment at the bottom of the base he took the small key and inserted it into the keyhole. He turned it a few times and listened.

The clock started to tick.

Rafe grunted with satisfaction and glanced sideways at her.

Lexie’s eyes blurred. The clock wasn’t going to help her finish her portrait or do her taxes but it felt like the first thing that had gone right in days. Maybe weeks. “You did it.”

As if he’d fixed her life.

Without stopping to think she leaned over, put her hands on his shoulders and kissed him.

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