Airman To The Rescue. Heatherly Bell

was the single most attractive quality about him.

      Of course, his most attractive quality changed from moment to moment and depending on what the man was doing. Sometimes his forearms were the single most attractive quality about him. Sometimes his eyes, beautifully dark and edgy. She had to face it—she had a large menu to choose from.

      And now tonight he’d finally put in her ceiling fan, and those tentacles falling out of her ceiling would be covered up and stop giving her spider nightmares. She’d run the fan tonight and cool down from the suddenly hot summer nights. They were having a small heat wave.

      Unless that was all Matt.

      She was still feeling her way around this whole friends-and-roommates thing, thinking up ways to get Matt’s attention other than leaving all her underwear out, flashing him or scaring him with her appalling lack of carpentry skills. So far she’d accomplished all of those without even breaking a sweat.

      He stood now on the ladder just under the wires, balancing his weight on the second highest rung. Her only job was to keep Shackles away from him, since her dog now had a serious case of hero worship for Matt and followed him around the sometimes-dangerous house. The evening sky had begun to darken and little slits of light were all that was left of the daylight coming through the bedroom window blinds he’d replaced for her. She walked to the window, still holding on to Shackles’s collar, to open them further and give Matt more light while he worked.

      An enormous spark popped out of the ceiling, and Matt cursed as he fell from the ladder. Letting go of the dog, she lunged for the ladder to steady him, but he grabbed it and took it with him, presumably to keep from falling on them. Shackles yelped and ran out of the bedroom. Somehow Matt managed to topple onto her bed, at the last minute throwing the ladder away from them both. It landed with a crash against the far wall.

      Matt lay on his back on her bed, staring up at the ceiling. “That wasn’t supposed to happen.”

      Recovering from her small heart attack, Sarah rushed to him. “Matt! Oh my God, Matt, are you okay?”

      “I’m good,” he said, wincing.

      She climbed on the bed with him. “If you say you’re good one more time I’m seriously going to have to kill you.”

      He groaned his response.

      “What can I do? Do you need me to call 911? Should I get you a cold wet rag? How about a warm one? Talk to me!”

      It took her a minute to realize that in her panic she’d crossed a dangerous line. She was pretty much straddling his hips. Not exactly how she’d pictured winding up in this position, with all her clothes still on, but damned if she would move now. She had a perfectly good excuse to be hovering over him, in care and concern over whether he’d managed to electrocute himself trying to fix her money pit of a house.

      “I’m okay.”

      “What happened?”

      “It’s worse than I thought.” He looked at the wiring above them, then at her. “I’m not sure I can move my legs.”

      Sarah drew in a sharp breath. What had she done? Why, oh why, had she let him help her? “You...you can’t m-move your legs?”

      He didn’t answer, but in one swift move he flipped her and now she lay under him.

      “How about that? Guess I can move them. Just needed a little motivation is all.”

      She pushed on his chest, marveling at how quickly he’d switched gears. “Not funny, Matt! You scared me.”

      But his eyes were serious now, incredibly so, as he braced himself above her. She shivered when one hand skimmed down her arm until he came to her wrist and cuffed it. Sarah didn’t breathe. Didn’t move. Letting go of her wrist, Matt’s hand went to her hair clip and he removed it. He made an innately male sound as her hair tumbled down around her shoulders, loose. His finger traced the edge of her jawline and he followed with his lips. Oh boy. She’d wanted this for so long that the moment they were both caught in seemed surreal. But these were her hands moving under his shirt to touch the solid planes of his muscular chest, luxuriating in how warm and hard and positively male he was. This would finally happen. Happen now. Any minute he’d kiss her senseless, unless she kissed him first. Any time now.

      The doorbell rang.

      Shackles yipped and barked, doing his job and sounding the alarm. People! People! Hurry and let them in so I can sniff them!

      Matt removed his hand from her ass. “You expecting anyone?”

      “No.” She tried to tug him down by his powerful neck while she prayed silently that whoever was at the door would give up and go away. Fast. But Matt wasn’t giving an inch.

      The doorbell rang again. Shackles became hysterical with the barking. Matt moved off the bed. And Sarah decided whoever was at the door would be dead in two minutes flat.

      “Okay.” She rose from the bed and smoothed back her hair. Licked her unkissed lips. “I’ll go see who that is.”

      But no one was dying tonight, because behind her front door stood Emily and Stone.