a ratty notebook that fit into his shirt pocket. “She called and left a message, but didn’t say what it was. I called her back and never heard from her again.”
Nina leaned against the wall and sighed. “Right. I’m not even surprised. We have a leak. It’s pretty serious. A steady dripping that looks like it’s getting worse.”
“I’m in Seattle, Nina. I can be there in the morning, but not before. Any way you can get somebody to cover it?”
This was when the concept of female equality and independence really sucked, she thought. “Sure. I’ll get a tarp on it. The back door will be open, if you need to get inside.”
“Sure thing. Then I’ll leave the invoice on the kitchen table.”
“Thanks, Tim. You’re the best.”
Ten minutes later, Nina had changed into jeans and a long-sleeved T-shirt. She pulled on a waterproof jacket, then went to the garage where she collected a tarp and four bricks. She’d done this drill before.
After dropping her supplies into a bucket for easy carrying, she leaned a ladder up against the house, close to the leak. She held the bucket in one hand and used the other as she climbed.
The rain was steady and damned cold. It got in her eyes and trickled down the back of her neck. As she reached the roof, her left foot slipped, and for a second, she nearly lost her balance.
She hung on and regained her footing. She pushed the bucket onto the roof, then scrambled up next to it.
The second she sat, water seeped into her jeans. Pine needles poked her fingers and covered much of the roof. They were going to have to be removed, Nina thought, thinking it was a job for another day. The shingles themselves were wet and slick. Nothing about this was very much fun.
It was also desperately unfair, she thought grimly. Bonnie had sworn she’d arranged to get the roof fixed, but hadn’t. Nina knew that when she complained to her mother about that, Bonnie would have a good excuse, or get so wounded that Nina would end up feeling like the biggest, baddest bitch in the West. If she didn’t complain, then once again her mother got away with being irresponsible while Nina took care of business. There seemed to be no win and in the end, the roof was still leaking.
Rain continued to pour onto her. She shifted to her hands and knees and moved slowly to the leaking corner. She pushed the bucket in front of her as she went. As she got closer, she tested the boards below her, not wanting to plunge through to the living room. About three feet from the actual leak, she pulled the tarp from the bucket and threw it over the shingles. She settled bricks into place and hoped it would hold until Tim arrived. Then she turned to make her way back to the ladder.
Later, she would try to figure out what had gone wrong. Maybe there was an extra coating of needles. Maybe patches of moss made the surface even more slick than usual. Maybe it was simply bad luck. But as she turned to crawl back to the ladder, her hand slipped, then her knee. Before she knew what was happening, she was sliding toward the edge of the roof, with nothing between her and hard ground but about ten or twelve feet.
Not enough to kill her, she thought as she screamed, but enough to—
“Got you.”
She landed hard but not on the ground. Instead she was caught by a man she’d never seen before. He held her in his arms and smiled down at her with an expression that made no sense. If she had to guess, she would say he was thinking he’d just won some kind of prize. And not just any prize. He looked as if he’d won a PGA tournament, NASCAR race and Quarter Finals all in one.
He was tall and strong enough to save her ass. His eyes were blue, and he looked good when wet.
“Hey, Nina.”
The voice was low and sexy, but not the least bit familiar. “Who are you?”
“You don’t remember?”
No, she didn’t, and he was still holding her.
She struggled a bit, and he quickly set her on her feet. She swayed as she found her balance and was about to take a step back when he put his hands on her waist, drew her against him and kissed her. Just like that.
She was so shocked, she didn’t move. Couldn’t move. Couldn’t breathe. His lips were warm and gentle, the kiss was brief and then he released her and moved back. She stood there, in the rain, unable to feel anything. Not the kiss, not the dripping, not the cold.
“You kissed me!”
His grin was unrepentant. “I know. I couldn’t help myself.” He studied her for a second, still way happier than the situation warranted. “You still don’t know who I am, do you?”
“No. That’s why I asked the question.” She had asked the question, hadn’t she? Maybe she really had fallen. Like on her head and now she was in a coma, imagining all this.
“I’m Kyle Eastland. The last time I saw you, I was twelve years old. It was August. A Tuesday. You were so beautiful.”
Kyle Eastland? “I used to babysit for the Eastland family,” she said slowly, as the memories returned. “There was a little girl and a son from a previous marriage—” She stared harder, suddenly remembering that preteen son. The one who had followed her around like a puppy, telling everyone who would listen that he was madly in love with her.
Her mother had said his devotion was sweet and that she should be flattered. Nina remembered being completely humiliated by the attentions of a very determined kid.
“You’re Kyle?”
“I knew you’d remember me.”
“That was years ago.”
“You’re more beautiful than I remember.”
Maybe he was the one who’d hit his head, she thought, aware of her wet hair plastered to her face and the dripping clothes. Or he was insane. A crazy stalker who had, until recently, been locked away.
He flashed her an amused smile. “Don’t be scared. I’m a normal guy.”
“I’m sure all serial killers say that.”
He chuckled. “I have proof.” He pulled out his wallet and showed her his military ID. Kyle was in the Navy and he was an officer. She was pretty sure the Navy would do a mental evaluation.
“Okay, then,” she murmured. “We’re getting soaked. Come inside.”
As he followed her into the house, she had the strangest sensation of déjà vu. In the past couple of weeks, she’d gotten drenched twice and been rescued by two men she hadn’t seen in forever. Was this a horoscope thing? Cosmic humor?
She checked the ceiling as she entered the living room and was pleased to see the dripping had stopped.
“Stay there,” she said, pointing to the small tiled foyer. “I’ll be right back.”
He gave her the kind of slow, sexy grin that had, for centuries, caused women to make very bad choices. “Now that I’ve found you, I’m not going anywhere.”
“You think
