The Harlowe Island Series: Falling for the Plumber
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S. L. Adams
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Chapter 1
The Harlowe Island Series Book 1: Falling for the Plumber
MILLY
I glanced down at the fresh blood on my white capris. It belonged to me. I had fallen off my bike during my hasty getaway from the spa. There was no way it came from anyone else. My lab coat protected my clothes from that.
My heart hammered against my ribs, the erratic, bounding rhythm making me dizzy. Sweat poured down my back, soaking my white T-shirt and turning it into a clingy, transparent cloak. I always went out of my way to hide my boobs, choosing clothing that didn’t draw attention to the oversized mountains that didn’t seem to belong on my skinny body. But they were on display for the world on that horrifying afternoon.
Christmas music spilled from the bars. Tourists clogged the sidewalks, taking in the festive glow of red and green. Duval Street was all decked out for the holidays.
I steered my bike onto a side street, dodging cars and pedestrians as I pedaled toward my house in Bahama Village. A few of my neighbors waved from their porches. I pulled out around the garbage truck and just missed a head-on collision with another cyclist.
“Watch where you’re going, Milly!” the guy yelled when he flew past me.
I came to a stop in front of my house, gasping for air as I stumbled from my bike.
The front of our house had a white picket fence. I reached over the tall gate, feeling around for the latch, when it swung open forcefully, sending my body flying backward. I landed in the pile of trash bags at the edge of the drive.
“Oh, for heaven’s sake,” Brenda sighed, shaking her head. “I’ve never met a kid as clumsy as you before, Molly.”
“It’s Milly,” I growled. “I’m not a kid. I’m twenty-three. And that was your fault. How did you not see me on the other side of the gate?”
“Is that some kind of dig at my lack of height?” She huffed. “I’d rather be a little on the short side than too tall. Good luck getting a man. Most guys won’t look twice at a woman who towers over them.”
I sat up, wiping a mystery liquid from my arm before I pushed to my feet. “The reason I don’t have a boyfriend is because I don’t want or need one.”
“Sure, honey,” Brenda said with a condescending snort. “Keep telling yourself that. You’re an esthetician, but you don’t use any of your skills on your own appearance. It makes no sense to me.”
It was roughly something the client had said as well. What was wrong with keeping my hair tied back and going makeup-free?
“If you’re done insulting me, you’re free to go.”
Brenda wrinkled her nose, cringing when I pulled a chicken bone from my hair. “Oh, that’s so gross,” she said before turning to head down the sidewalk.
“I’m okay!” I called out. “Thanks for your concern!”
I picked garbage from my clothes while I watched the snooty bitch climb into her orange convertible.
Brenda was dating our boarder, Levi. She was the third girlfriend he’d had since moving in with us six months before. Greg, my older brother, worked as a chef on a cruise ship for a couple of years to gain experience and save money. Greg met Levi, who was working onboard as a plumber on the same ship, and they became best friends. We didn’t have an extra bedroom, so Levi was sleeping on the sun porch that used to be my craft room.
I grabbed my bike and wheeled it into the yard, closing the gate behind me. After the mishap at work and my unfortunate fall into the trash, a shower was definitely in order.
The events of the day were on constant replay in my mind as I headed for the bathroom, shucking off my clothes on the way.
The screams.
The blood.
What if I get fired?
It was an accident. I’d explained everything, but the client told a different story, and my boss Larissa wasn’t exactly the forgiving sort.
The client was a very famous outspoken loudmouth. Inez Ingerson was the host of her own talk show, and she had millions of followers on social media. She was all about garnering attention and staying relevant. But she had been slipping in the ratings. Coming to the spa was supposed to help her attract younger viewers, showcasing her dedication to staying current and fashionable.
But even Inez would have some limits on what she was willing to share for publicity, right? She probably wanted to forget what happened just as much as I did.
And I certainly wasn’t planning on talking.
I turned the handle and pushed the bathroom door open. We always kept it closed. We implemented that household rule after our cat fell into the toilet.
My brain was busy trying to manage the brewing storm of anxiety and panic.
I was on autopilot.
I didn’t notice the steam.
Didn’t hear the water running.
I pulled back the shower curtain.
“What the fuck?!” Levi hollered.
I screamed and yanked the curtain closed.
But not before I got a glimpse of a wet, naked man.
I’d seen his chest before. He walked around shirtless all the time.
It wasn’t his pecs that shocked me.
Nope.
The startling part was quite a bit lower than his chest.
I’d seen lots of dicks in the course of my job. And none compared to the girthy snake hanging down to Levi’s knees.
Fine. That was a slight exaggeration.
I did only see it for a split second.
But it was definitely not a cocktail wiener.
And it wasn’t erect.
I couldn’t even imagine what that thing would be like if it were aroused.
The water shut off, and I scrambled to grab my robe from the hook on the back of the door.
“Are you still in here?” he asked.
“I’m leaving,” I said. “Just give me two seconds.”
“How did you not notice the shower was occupied?”
“Why wasn’t the door locked?”
“I wasn’t expecting you to come home for two more hours.”
“I got off early.”
“You don’t say,” he said drily.
“How did you not hear me?”
“I had headphones on.”
“Who wears headphones in the shower?”
“I do.”
“That doesn’t seem very smart.”
“Unless you want another glimpse of this sexy bod, I suggest you take your sweet rack and get the heck out of here because I’m opening this curtain in about two seconds.”
“I’m going, I’m going!” I opened the door and stumbled down the hall to my bedroom.
Thank God it was Tuesday, and my father wasn’t home. He’d have a field day with this one. Luckily, he played shuffleboard on Tuesday afternoons.
Levi saw me naked!
I was so busy thinking about his body that I forgot he also saw mine.
I waited until I heard him walk through the house to the sun porch. When I felt confident it was safe to come out, I peeked into the hall. The coast was clear. I made a beeline for the bathroom, locking the door behind me.
He thinks I have a sweet rack.
I smiled to myself while I massaged the shampoo into my scalp. No man had ever said anything complimentary to me about my body before.
Except Corgi.
He doesn’t count.
Corgi is a heterosexual male. He most certainly does count.
He’s your best friend. He does not count.
***
My stomach growled impatiently, reminding me that I would have to leave my bedroom to get food at some point.
How was I supposed to face Levi?
He saw me naked!
I peeked out the window for the gazillionth time. His work van was still in the driveway.
Wasn’t there someone in Key West who needed the services of a plumber?
I opened my door and made my way to the kitchen as silently as I could manage.
The house was quiet. Maybe he was outside.
I rounded the corner into the kitchen.
No sign of Levi.
So far, so good.
I opened the fridge and grabbed a plate of leftovers. When your brother was a chef, there was always something yummy in the fridge. I didn’t even care what it was.
“There’s the most popular girl in Key West!” Dad bellowed.
Shit.
I popped my plate into the microwave before turning to greet my father. “How was shuffleboard, Dad?”
“Same as always, but the coffee after was very interesting.”
“What was so interesting about your coffee?”
“It was the coffee shop that was interesting,” he clarified.
“Why’s that?” I asked, glancing nervously toward the sun porch.
“I got a joke for you, Milly.”
I removed my plate from the microwave and edged my way toward the hall. The thing about my dad was that he was a talker and a jokester. If I didn’t get out of there immediately, I would never escape. His birth certificate may have said he was sixty-five, but his behavior most days was more in line with a sixteen-year-old boy.
“What did one tampon say to the other when they met on the street?”
I froze.
There was no way he heard what happened at the spa.
It wasn’t possible.
Levi emerged from the porch, winking at me before I had a chance to look away. I stared at the floor, my cheeks flaming, while I waited for Dad to finish his joke.
“Well, Milly?” he laughed. “Do you have an answer?”
“No, Dad,” I replied. “Why don’t you just tell me?”
“What did one tampon say to the other when they met on the street?”
“You already told me that part of the joke.”
“Levi didn’t hear it.”
“Why don’t you tell him?” I suggested. “I’m not really in the mood.”
“Nothing! They were both stuck-up cunts!”
“Dad, that’s not a nice word.”
“I heard you had a bit of a run-in with a stuck-up cunt today,” he said.
I set my plate on the kitchen island and braced my hands on the counter.
There was no way it got out.
Unless Inez was behind it…
I licked my lips, praying she hadn’t gone public. Levi leaned against the doorway, his eyes pinned on me. I refused to make eye contact, but I could feel him staring. Our shower incident was suddenly the least of my worries.
“What are you talking about, Dad?”
“That Inez Ingerson woman posted what happened online.”
I gasped. “What? Why would she do that?”
“Well, for attention, I reckon.”
“But that’s so embarrassing for her,” I squeaked. “Why would she want people to know?”
“What happened?” Levi asked.
“I’m not talking about it,” I said, shaking my head. “I can’t believe this,” I added in a whisper.
Levi pulled his phone from his pocket, wincing when he found the answer to his question online. He glanced up at me with a sympathetic frown. “She’s accusing you of assault. She’s playing the victim card.”
“That’s not even what happened!”
“I’m sure this will all blow over,” Dad said, patting me on the shoulder. “Sticky situations tend to do that.”
“Dad!”
“What?”
“You know what.”
“It’s an expression, Milly.”
“You used it as a play on words.”
“Yeah.” He chuckled. “You gotta learn to laugh at yourself, honey. Stop taking life so seriously.”
I was just about to respond when my phone vibrated in my back pocket. I pulled it out and gulped when I saw whose name was on the screen.
This wasn’t good. This couldn’t be good.
Shit.
