Sherryl Woods - Where Azaleas Bloom

“Turning to friends, and especially to your attorney, is not a weakness,” Helen replied emphatically. “Remember that. I’ll see you soon.”

“Thanks,” Lynn said, her spirits marginally improved.

But then, as if to mock her, when she went to wash her hands in the downstairs bathroom, the cold-water knob came off in her hand.

“This is just the bloody last straw,” she muttered, sitting down on the toilet and letting the tears come. She wasn’t sure which was flowing harder, her tears or the water leaking in the sink.

“This is not solving anything,” she muttered, making an attempt to find the shut-off valve, only to discover it was stuck. She thought of Mitch. She doubted he’d had any idea what he was letting himself in for by offering to help her out. These days it seemed the disasters in her life were way too plentiful. Still, he had offered and he was right next door.

She splashed water on her swollen eyes, ran a brush through her hair, then hurried to Raylene’s. At her knock, Raylene opened the door at once. She frowned when she saw Lynn.

“Are you okay? You’ve been crying. What can I do to help?”

“Just a frustrating day,” Lynn told her. “Is Mitch here? Do you suppose I could borrow him for a minute? I have an impending plumbing disaster and I’m at a loss. He offered to help out if I ever needed anything.”

“Of course he will,” Raylene said. “I’ll get him and send him right over.”

“Thanks.”

Raylene started away, then came back. “Lynn, if you ever need anything at all, you know Carter and I will be happy to pitch in. Mandy adores Lexie, and we love having her over here anytime she wants to come. You and Jeremy are always welcome, too. I imagine it’s been tough since Ed left. I put that much together when you came to me for a job.”

“We’re managing,” Lynn said tightly, wondering if Helen had filled Raylene in on how bad things were, if Raylene had only given her a job out of pity. She immediately stopped herself from even considering such a possibility. Helen’s ethical standards were too high for her to be blabbing about her clients’ woes.

And after all Raylene had been through—her first husband’s abuse, a bout with agoraphobia and a final confrontation with her ex after his release from jail—Raylene was quick to lend a hand to everyone these days. She said it thrilled her to finally be able to repay some of the kindness extended to her when she’d been psychologically trapped in her own home for so long.

Lynn forced a smile. “Thanks for offering, though. You’ve already done plenty for us.”

“We’re always happy to help. I mean that.”

Lynn nodded. “I know you do.” For the second time that day, she’d been reminded that she did have friends, people who would be there for her if only she asked.

“Okay, then,” Raylene said, then left to get Mitch as Lynn walked back home.

When Mitch appeared at her house and immediately set to work on repairing the knob, she couldn’t help noticing how quietly competent he was. He was also a man of few words. She liked that he didn’t ask a lot of questions about how she’d managed to break the stupid thing in the first place. Ed would have turned the whole incident into a flurry of accusations about her incompetence.

When the job was done, Mitch washed his hands, then smiled at her. “Good as new,” he declared. “Or as good as a twenty-year-old fixture is likely to be. You might think about replacing it one of these days.”

“I’ll put it on the list,” she said.

He gave her a chiding look. “Is this one of those long lists that no one ever gets to?”

“Pretty much.”

“I could get one for you at cost and replace it in no time,” he offered.

Lynn shook her head. “That’s okay. This one will have to hold up a while longer.”

“Okay, then,” he said, not pressing. When they got to the kitchen, he hesitated. “Other than that knob coming off in your hand, has something else happened since I saw you earlier? You look even more stressed.”

“How flattering.”

He winced. “Sorry. I’m not up on polite chitchat. If I want to know something, I figure the best way to find out is to ask. The kids are okay?”

She smiled at his determined attempt to try to pry information out of her. “They’ll be home from school any minute. I’m sure you’ll see Lexie next door and can determine for yourself how she’s doing.”

He looked vaguely chagrined. “Okay. Message received. I didn’t mean to pry. Sorry if I struck a nerve.”

“I’m the one who’s sorry, Mitch. It’s just been a tough day,” she said. “You were right. I am stressed out.”

“Take a break and put your feet up,” he advised. “I’ll be over in the morning.”

“See you then.”

He started to leave, then turned back. “Hey, I don’t suppose you could convince Lexie that it would be politically correct to play the local country station at full volume, rather than that crazy stuff she and Mandy like?”

“I haven’t had any luck around here,” she said. “That would be my preference, too. The country music Travis and Sarah play on the radio station here in town is much more my taste.”

“Mine, too. I think I’ve lived a lot of those lyrics.”

“Haven’t we all?” she agreed. Lately, she had a hunch her experiences could provide lyrics for an entire CD of love-gone-wrong songs. Maybe that should be her new calling.

Mitch stood there awkwardly for a moment longer, then shrugged. “I’d better get back over there. If I’m gone too long, my crew’s liable to put up a wall where no wall was intended to be.”

She laughed. “Something tells me you have them trained better than that. It looks amazing from over here. I can’t wait to see how it turns out.”

“You’ll have to let me give you a tour one of these days. Raylene has a hard hat she can loan you, assuming she can find the thing. Near as I can tell she enjoys making my heart stop by coming into the addition without it.”

“I’d like that,” Lynn said. “We always talked about building an addition to this place, but we never got around to it. Now it will never happen.”

She waved off the revealing comment as soon as it was out of her mouth. “Spilt milk,” she muttered. “Thanks, again, for helping out with the plumbing crisis, Mitch. You’re a lifesaver.”

“Anytime. I told you that.”

She watched him walk away, fascinated yet again by the way his faded, well-worn jeans curved quite nicely over an incredibly sexy posterior. As soon as the outrageous, totally inappropriate thought crossed her mind, she slapped her hand over her mouth as if she’d said it aloud.

What had gotten into her today? She was completely flipping out over finances, she’d stolen money from her husband’s office and she was still thinking about how appealing Mitch looked in a pair of jeans? Crazy. The last thing she needed in her life these days was another complication. And Mitch Franklin, sweet and sexy as he might be, would most definitely be a complication.

Starting tomorrow morning she was going to have to be on full alert to make sure she kept these wayward thoughts of hers in check or working for the man was going to be incredibly awkward. Even as she reminded herself of that, she wondered if just maybe that was why he’d hesitated before offering her the job. Was he as aware of her as she suddenly was of him? Or had he just noticed that she’d developed this insane appreciation for his backside?

Either way, she reminded herself sternly, tomorrow morning needed to be all about business. She would keep her eyes on the computer screen and far, far away from Mitch or any particularly intriguing part of his anatomy.