One Touch

Veronica

The sound of hammering from the kitchen woke Veronica the next morning. Groggily, she glanced at the clock on her nightstand and saw it was only a little after seven. She rose from her bed and grabbed the robe she'd thrown on the chair near the door. She flung it on, slipped into her slippers, and opened her bedroom door.

The intoxicating aroma of brewing coffee immediately infiltrated her nose, and she took an even deeper breath, enjoying it. The hammering stopped as she turned the corner and saw Noah on his knees next to the window in the breakfast nook. He wore a playful expression. "Morning, Roni."

Veronica wasn't sure what to think. Obviously, he'd gone through some of her things if he knew her mother's pet name for her. Thankfully, before she could accuse him of anything, he pointed to a picture on the wall. "Took me a minute to figure out that was you in that graduation picture since it said 'Roni Cruz's graduation.' Then I remembered your friend calling you 'Roni' your first day at the gym. Not only that, the smile gave you away."

The emphasis on her smile and the way his face seemed to brighten just after he said it made her face warm. "Roni . . ." Again with that same unnerving expression. "That's cute. I like it."

Veronica tried to shake it off as if the way he said it didn't do the weirdest things to her insides. She glanced away and walked toward the coffee. She needed coffee now. She shrugged. "Yeah, that's what my mom and a few of my friends in high school called me."

"Does anyone call you that anymore?" He took a few steps towards her, and much to her relief, he stopped when he reached the counter where a cup of coffee sat, and he picked it up, staring at her.

"Only Nellie does sometimes." She wouldn't mention Derek, especially because the only time he did was when he was hinting he was in the mood—God that seemed like so long ago. The thought of getting in the mood with Derek or any man hadn't even crossed her mind until . . .

Good, so you don't mind me calling you that too, right? I think it suits you." Before she could respond to that, he took a sip of his coffee then turned back to the window. "Sorry if I woke you. Just so you know, in case you ever hear someone at the door early in the morning, I run every morning."

He had woken her, but she didn't want him to be sorry about it. Reminding herself that this was only their first morning together and he may be here for a while—months—she tried snapping the ridiculous nervousness. "That's okay, I usually get up around this time anyway. What are you up to?"

"You have a few leaks around some of your windows. I wasn't sure where you kept all your tools, but I managed to round up a few. I'll grab my tools when I go pick up my stuff later." He pointed at the corner of one of the other windows. "That was the worst one, but I think I fixed it."

Veronica tried concentrating on his words, but the way the muscle on his arms flexed as he pointed the hammer was incredibly distracting. She'd seen him in his muscle shirts plenty of times, but seeing him first thing in the morning in her kitchen like this was something else. He was so big and put together, but she had to be mindful that this man standing in her kitchen was only twenty—eight years younger than she was. So as he'd pointed out, he was legal. It was a significant age difference, and she should be ashamed of herself for some of the thoughts entering her head that very moment.

"I could have someone come out and fix it. You shouldn't have to be bothered by it." She leaned against the counter, trying to focus on the invigorating coffee that instantly warmed her insides.

"It's not a bother. With the right tools, it's actually an easy fix. I'll check all the other windows. A house this old probably needs a lot of work."

Her mouth involuntarily pulled to the side. "I'm sure it does, but don't you dare think you're going to be fixing everything. That's way too much work. I wouldn't dream of—"

"Roni."

She turned to see him looking at her with his eyebrows raised. Jesus, that was her nickname—her mother and some friends had been calling her that for years. So why did hearing him say it make her heart skip?

"I don't mind really. What with you letting me stay here, it's the least I can do."

"But—"

"No buts. I actually enjoy doing this kind of stuff."

Veronica let it go after he smiled and went back to work on the window. She glanced at the gadget on the counter. She was so out of it when it came to latest and greatest gadgets it wasn't even funny. Even her photography equipment was sorely outdated. Though it didn't stop her from creating masterpieces.

"Is this your iPod?"

Noah glanced back for a second to see what she was referring to. "Close. My iPhone. It's one of the first things I bought with my first checks as a trainer."

She lifted it, almost embarrassed that she hadn't the faintest idea how you would even make a call on one of these phones. Totally old school, her coworkers had called her phone a "dumb phone" as opposed to their smart phones, and that was over two years ago. She'd since graduated to one with a keyboard, but it was still considered one of the simplest phones out there.

"I don't get why people need such extravagant phones just to make a phone call or send a text."

Noah stood up and walked toward her. "Are you kidding? There is so much you can do nowadays with these phones you'd be amazed. I got it for all the apps that help me track my training progress, running, counting calories, you name it. But there is a lot more I haven't even touched on. I'm still learning."

Veronica tried to appear impressed, but he may as well be talking another language. Apps? In an effort to not embarrass herself by saying something stupid, she decided to change the subject. "You hungry? I'm starved."

"Yeah, I could go for a bite of something."

She pulled open her pantry. She was dying for a stack of pancakes, but technically, she was still on a diet. She'd been known to cheat here and there, but with him living here now, that was going to be nearly impossible. Instead of reaching for the box of pancake mix, she grabbed the bag of whole grain bagels and pulled the toaster out.

They ate together, sitting at her kitchen table. When they were almost done, he asked if she could give him a ride back to the gym to pick up his bike. "My friend has a truck, and he's gonna help me get some of my stuff moved in here." He must've mistaken her sudden change in expression because he quickly added. "Don't worry, I don't have a lot."

"Oh, that's not what I was thinking. It's just that it's still so dangerous to be driving your bike out in this weather. Maybe I could just drop you off at your friend's instead." The second she realized how motherly that sounded, she glanced away, licking the cream cheese off her bottom lip. When she turned back, he was staring at her lips. She immediately stopped licking and their eyes met.

He smirked. "Sure, it's actually closer if you drop me off at his place. He's right over on First Street."

She cleared her throat and picked up her cup, standing up. "What time did you wanna go?"

"As soon as you're ready. Looks like the break in the rain will only be for a couple hours before it starts up again."

She placed her cup in the sink then turned around, nearly jumping out of her skin when her hand grazed his arm.

"I'm sorry." He moved his cup away from her and took a step back. "I didn't mean to—"

"No, it's okay." Could she be any more prudish? All she did was touch him for crying out loud! She brought her hand to her forehead. "I was just . . ."

"I didn't expect you to turn around so fast. I shouldn't have—"

"No, no." God, please make it stop. She could feel her face burning, and she was sure he could see it. "Don't apologize. I just didn't see you there."

She walked around him as quickly as she could. "I'll go get dressed so I can drop you off."

Rushing toward her bedroom, she prayed he wouldn't say another word. Thankfully he didn't. When she got in her room, she closed the door behind her and leaned against it, cursing herself inwardly. Supposedly she was the older, more mature of the two. How could she turn into such a bumbling idiot just from one touch? It barely even counted as a touch. Geez, what he must think of her already. And she still had months of this to look forward to? Good Lord.