Mr. Fixit Next Door: A Brother’s Best Friend Romance Page 2

  It had been a couple of days since the move and most of my things were unpacked and tucked away neatly. I was standing in the kitchen, prepping what was supposed to be a nutritious breakfast of rolled oats and fresh fruit with a bit of almond milk. What it actually wound up being was several out-of-the-box strawberry Pop-Tarts that I’d been craving all night. There was so much that still needed to be done, and it was all starting to feel overwhelming. I needed to go find myself a job to save up as much as possible to take care of me and the baby financially before it arrived. I needed to go to all sort of Lamaze classes in order to prepare. Not to mention all the shopping that needed to be done to buy baby supplies and clothing.

  I took an angry chomp into my Pop-Tart and sighed, staring mindlessly at a spot on the tiled kitchen floor. This would be so much easier if Chris hadn’t left. He’d been there for all the fun times, but wanted none of the responsibility. I scrolled through the wall of text messages I’d left him, still reeling at how he handled everything. Maybe chivalry really was dead, after all.

  [Terri] Chris, please answer me.

  [Terri] I know you’ve seen my messages. The little ‘seen’ icon shows up.

  [Terri] I don’t know if I can do this without you. Why won’t you at least talk to me?

  [Terri] My brother is helping me move back into the city. I’ll send you my address so you know where I’ll be.

  [Terri] You know what, fine. Don’t talk to me. I can take care of the baby all by myself.

  [Terri] Good riddance, you absolute jerk.

  “There’s no going back now,” I grumbled bitterly to myself.

  Three strong knocks rang out from my front door.

  I raised a curious eyebrow. I wasn’t expecting any company today. If it had been my brother or my parents, they would have texted first. Maybe it was the landlord checking up on those issues I had with the apartment’s windows, which were jammed shut and refused to open. I unlocked the door and swung it open to find Joe standing there, half-turned like he was about to leave.

  “Oh,” I mumbled, “hey. What’s up?”

  “Chores,” he blurted out, cheeks dusted the faintest shade of pink.

  “What?” I stuttered.

  I was captivated by how good he looked in the black shirt he wore. The fabric was pulled tight over his frame, bulging muscles barely contained. When he moved to scratch behind his ear, I watched. There was nothing out of the ordinary about the motion, but it was weirdly captivating. I remembered that Joe was really athletic back in high school, having been a member of the soccer, football, and volleyball team. The guy liked to work out, and I could tell he’d been keeping up with his exercise regime.

  He was in pique form and, as a result, impossible to look away from. I had to wonder if I was really awake. Maybe I was dreaming and none of this was real. Everything about this very much felt like the beginning of a bad porno. Did I fall asleep watching PornHub again and now thoughts of frisky maintenance men were seeping into my subconscious? I sincerely hoped not. And if that was the case, why was I dreaming of Joe?

  He cleared his throat. “I wanted to know how you were doing. You settling in okay? Need anything?”

  “Everything’s great,” I lied easily.

  “Oh, okay. That’s… That’s good. Well, bye.”

  A breath caught in my lungs as I took a step forward, quickly placing a hand on his rock-hard bicep. “Wait!” I called after him.

  Joe stopped immediately, looking as surprised as I felt. “Yeah?”

  “You don’t happen to know how to… I don’t know. Fix things, do you?”

  “I’m a mechanic,” he stated like the most obvious thing in the world. “I can fix anything.”

  The corners of my lips twisted up into a smile. “Do you think you can take a look at a few things?” I gestured toward the window. “It doesn’t open up very wide. And the radiator’s super noisy.”

  “That’s all?” Joe shrugged a shoulder. “Easy.”

  “And the kitchen sink takes forever to drain. I let the landlord know, but he hasn’t gotten back to me yet.”

  “I can stop by later with my toolbox, if you’d like.”

  “Yeah?” I giggled, entranced by the sly grin he wore. Who gave him the right to look so distressingly handsome?

  “Yeah,” he confirmed.

  “Thanks, Joe. I’d really appreciate that.”

  “Not a problem, Terri. I’ll be back in a few minutes.”

  3

  Joe

  When I returned with my toolbox, the door had been propped open for me. It was a thoughtful thing to do, so I don’t know why I took such issue with Terri leaving her door unlocked. This was a relatively safe part of town, but it was still very much a possibility for a random stranger to force his way in. I didn’t like the idea of Terri being so open and welcoming, but I thought better of telling her off. She was a grown woman now, but I silently wished she’d be more careful. I couldn’t stand the thought of someone take advantage of someone so beautiful and sweet.

  There were actually several things wrong with the apartment. In addition to the issues Terri pointed out, there were several of the lightbulbs in the hallway needed changing, the hood fan over the stove needed new filters, the hinges on bathroom door needed greasing, and the double-light switch in the living room was wired wrong, so the switches stood opposite to one another. The last thing wasn’t really that big of a deal, it was just something that bothered me to no end.

  I was knelt down in front of the radiator, testing to see the responsiveness of the valves. It creaked and groaned in protest. The faint rattling of something metallic inside the pipes caught my attention. Considering how old the building was, I wouldn’t be surprised if the sound was the result of a loose screw or dirt build up. Still, it was a little disappointing that Terri had moved into an apartment in such poor condition. I felt a little guilty for suggesting the place to begin with, but Max had made it very clear that it was important that she find a place to live as soon as possible. I didn’t ask for details, had no need for questions. I’d grown up with the Catos, so we were practically family. And if there was one thing I held in highest priority; it was family.

  So it was understandably weird for me when I could feel her eyes on me, heated gaze raking over my body as I moved to work on the window. Terri tried to appear busy, unpacking the few remaining boxes that she’d stacked on her rickety dining table. Every time I happened to look up, I managed to catch Terri glancing away, cheeks adorably red. I told myself it was because the apartment felt like a million degrees, no thanks to the window that refused to open. Deep down, though, I could recognize something electric in the air. I found myself wanting to know more, drawn to her like a moth to a flame. Where had she been? How’d she been doing? What was she doing back?

  “Do you want to grab drinks?” I asked instead of the other burning questions plaguing my thoughts. “Tonight. With me.”

  “I can’t, I’m sorry,” she answered immediately.

  “Oh,” I mumbled. “That’s cool. No big deal.”

  I dug a can of WD-40 out of my toolbox and applied some of the substance on the rusted lock. It had sealed itself shut after years of negligence which was why the window refused to open. With the edge of a utility knife, I diligently scraped at the loosened chunks of rust.

  “N-no,” she stuttered, “I mean. I can’t do drinks. But maybe dinner? I’m not really familiar with the neighborhood. Maybe you can show me around?”

  “You can do dinner but not drinks?”

  “I’m–” Terri swallowed hard. “I’m pregnant. So, you know, there’s that. Probably not a good idea to mix the two.”

  The window rushed open, throwing me off balance. I had to catch myself on the window ledge. I raised an eyebrow, shocked. That was not what I was expecting to hear at all. I supposed that would explain why Terri looked a little weary, though it certainly didn’t detract from her beauty. I wasn’t entirely sure what to do with the information. If she wa
s pregnant, where was the father? As I looked about the apartment, there didn’t appear to be any sign of a boyfriend. Terri didn’t wear an engagement ring or wedding band, so it didn’t look like there was a fiancé or husband in the picture, either. Was Terri here all by herself? What exactly was going on here? Why hadn’t Max mentioned this to me? When he told me to back off, I thought he’d been joking. Something akin to protectiveness rose up into my throat, but I tamped it down and did my best to remain as cool as possible.

  Terri started to nervously pick at her fingernails, her cheeks flushing a bright red. It was only then that I realized I hadn’t spoken for a few minutes, too shocked by this brand-new information.

  “I’m sorry,” she apologized, stumbling over her own words. “I shouldn’t have said anything. Now I’ve freaked you out. You’re freaked out, aren’t you? Shit, I’m sorry. That’s probably not what you want to hear after seeing someone for the first time in several years. Max reacted similarly. You haven’t gone catatonic, right? Oh my God, you probably think I’m an idiot. Who gets knocked up in this day and age, right? But before you judge me, just know that I don’t care what you think. I’m pretty sure I know what I’m doing, so there. If that makes you uncomfortable then–”

  “Wait,” I interrupted, “what is happening?”

  Terri worried her bottom lip with her teeth. “I told you I’m pregnant and you’ve been staring at me for, like, ten minutes.”

  “I’m not judging you, Terri. Okay, maybe the tiniest bit, but you’re right. You shouldn’t care what I think. Shit happens. I’ve been there.”

  “You’ve been pregnant?”

  “No,” I coughed, “I’ve been in shitty situations before. I get it. We’ve all got our own baggage.”

  She raised her chin up and drew in a shallow breath through the nose. “Okay. Good. So what was with that awkward silence?”

  “I was debating whether to take you out for Italian or Chinese.”

  She curled her face up, adorable little nose crinkling as she shook her head. “How about Thai? I’ve got a real craving for something ridiculously spicy.”

  I flashed her a toothy grin. “I could do Thai.”

  As luck would have it, I knew of an excellent Thai restaurant on the corner of Saxville and West that was locally famous for their delightfully golden-brown spring rolls and homemade sweet and sour sauce. I knew the owner through his grandson, Tommy, the latter of which was a frequent customer of my garage. He was one of those self-starter kids, one of those who believed that if they hustled hard enough, they’d make a name for themselves within a matter of years.

  He was a good kid, buying used cars which he then delivered to me to fix up, only to put it back on the market in the hopes that they’d turn a profit. I could recall an instance where one of the vehicles he’d brought me had actually been reported as stolen, but the kid swore it was a misunderstanding. Imagine my surprise when the cops turned up at the shop first thing in the morning with a warrant to search the premises. After we’d gotten everything sorted, Tommy brought me to his grandfather’s restaurant and treated me to a week’s worth of dinner as an apology, hence my intimate knowledge of the restaurant’s menu.

  “If you’re looking for something spicy,” I started, reaching over the top of Terri’s menu to point at the upper left-hand corner, “you can’t go wrong with the chicken pad thai. You can always add a bit more siracha if it doesn’t do it for you.”

  “Is it really as delicious as the pictures make it look?”

  “Even better, actually.”

  Terri and I were seated across from one another at a small table, located in the far corner of the restaurant. It was brightly lit, colorful painted murals decorating the restaurant walls. Busy waitstaff made their way back and forth from the kitchen, taking orders and dropping off hot meals as quickly as their feet could carry them. There were only twenty tables or so in the entire restaurant, but due to its small size, it appeared jampacked and incredibly busy. The scent of savory broths and a variety of freshly ground spices filled the air, wafting out from the hot kitchen where chefs angrily called out to one another for more basil and shrimp. The roar of ranging hood fans, the energetic chatter from nearby tables, and the clinking of chopsticks upon ceramic bowls filled the restaurant with life. We placed our order the moment our waiter could spare a second for us. He left with our requests as quickly as he’d come.

  Terri took careful sips from her glass of ice water, glancing away sheepishly whenever our eyes locked. I couldn’t help but chuckle. Some things never changed. Sitting before me, I was reminded that she was still Max’s shy little sister. Of course, with the additional factor that she was expecting.

  “So, what’s the plan?” I asked, question rolling off my tongue. “You said you had a plan.”

  “Oh, right. Well–” Terri swallowed. Her brows furrowed, nothing but concentration in her eyes. “I’m going job hunting tomorrow,” she explained. “I’m not too sure what kind of jobs will hire a pregnant lady, but I figure it was worth a shot. It may be optimistic of me, but I’m hoping to get a job with benefits. It’d help with the expenses quite a bit.”

  “I could ask around for you, if you’d like.”

  She raised an eyebrow at me, curious. “Seriously?”

  “Yeah. I get to meet quite a few people through my work.”

  “Joe, that’d be amazing. That’s so sweet of you.”

  I smiled at her. “Don’t go around telling people, though.”

  “Would that ruin your reputation as a badass?”

  “You think I’m a badass?”

  The tips of her ears turned pink. “No,” she said unconvincingly.

  I snorted, “Liar.”

  Our food arrived shortly after, steaming hot and mouthwateringly delicious. It was a little concerning how quickly and how easily Terri was able to down her food. After taking a single bite, she immediately reached for the siracha bottle and drenched her pad thai with the sauce. I didn’t realize I’d been staring until she looked up at me, blushed bright red, and then gingerly replaced the bottle.

  “Cravings,” she giggled. “They’re really weird.”

  “Are you going to be able to handle that? You used to think Flaming Hot Cheetos were too spicy.”

  Terri gasped and snapped her fingers. “Oh my God, that would be delicious. I think the crunch would really add to the dish. Is there a convenience store around here?”

  I couldn’t help but grin, amazed.

  “Anyways,” she cleared her throat, trying to move past the awkwardness, “I’m going to save up as much as possible before the baby arrives. Maybe I can find a work-from-home job. That’d be the most convenient. But if you do hear something, please let me know.”

  “Is the father not helping out at all?” I inquired.

  Terri froze, setting her jaw tight as she pressed her lips into a thin line. She cast her eyes down to the table, suddenly appearing very small. “I… Well, no. He’s not. He doesn’t want anything to do with the child.”

  A flicker of anger sparked deep within my gut. “What? Why not?”

  She simply shook her head. “It’s a long story.”

  “I’ve got nothing but time.”

  Terri managed the smallest of smiles, but I knew it wasn’t a genuine one. The happiness didn’t reach her eyes. Instead, I could see nothing but conflict and doubt. “Chris was… Well, I honestly should have known he’d bail. He wasn’t exactly a shining example for the PBC.”

  “PBC?” I echoed.

  “The Perfect Boyfriend Club.”

  I chuckled. “Is that a new term the kids are using these days?”

  “What are you talking about, ‘the kids?’ You’re, like, three years older than me.”

  “Which offers me the perfect amount of distance from your Tik Tok-making generation.”

  “I have never made a Tik Tok in my life.”

  “Good. I like you better already.”

  Terri giggled softly, voice sweet
and bright like the notes of a flute. “This coming from the guy who tried to eat a Tide Pod on a dare.”

  My mouth dropped open slightly in mock indignation. “First of all, Max triple dog dared me. Second of all, I’ll have you know I did it twice and lived to tell the tell.”

  She gawked. “You didn’t.”

  I shrugged a shoulder. “I didn’t. But people don’t need to know that.”

  “I can already tell you’re going to be a bad influence on my kid,” she quipped. Terri patted her stomach gently. “You hear that? Don’t ever listen to Uncle Joe and Uncle Max.”

  I grinned at this, an inexplicable warmth spreading through me. There was just something incredibly sweet about Terri’s words, something undeniable about the love in her eyes. The baby wasn’t even here yet, and she already looked perfect in the role of mother.

  4

  Terri

  I may or may not have gotten up at the crack of dawn to puke my guts out.

  I’d been warned on numerous occasions by various sources –primarily my abuela when she was still around– that Cato women experienced morning sickness like no other. Abuela had gone on and on about how she would spend several hours in the early morning with her head practically glued to the toilet seat, praying to God that the nausea would subside. She was definitely an over sharer, a natural storyteller. My mother went into a lot less detail, but I certainly got the point. The next few months were going to be hell, and a part of me wished that Chris was here to hold my hand through it all. It would have been nice to have someone supportive and loving to hold my hair back, to whisper soft encouragements as they rubbed my shoulders. It would have made this whole messy morning a lot more bearable.

  After what felt like an eternity, I finally started to feel better. Upon retreating from the bathroom into the kitchen, I peered at the digital clock programmed into the microwave and dismayed at the fact that it was five in the morning. Physically, I was exhausted, but I was mentally wide awake thanks to my arguably intimate relationship with my toilet bowl. I debated whether or not I should just go back to bed and try to grab a few more hours of sleep, but restlessness within me kept me from doing so. I circled the kitchen island a few times, hopelessly aimless. My hands were itching to do something, to keep busy, so I opened the door to my pantry and pulled out the ingredients I’d need to bake up a storm.