Free Mistletoe Bay by Marcia Evanick

the idea of the upcoming holiday season and all those boxes of decorations up there gathering dust. Not only were her decorations up there, but so were Dorothy’s. “I’ll be in trouble if the roof leaks.”
    â€œIt doesn’t?” Coop looked amazed.
    â€œSo far it’s the only thing that doesn’t need to be repaired or replaced.” She quickly tapped the wooden table they used to fold the laundry. “Knock on wood.”
    Coop chuckled. “That reminds me”—he reached into his pants pocket and pulled out a slip of paper—“I have the name and number of two local guys that might be interested in doing some of that construction work for you.”
    â€œAre you serious?” She yanked the paper from his fingers. There on the crinkled white paper were two neatly printed names and phone numbers. Before she could think, she opened her mouth and teased, “I could kiss you.”
    A fiery blush swept up her cheeks as Coop raised a brow at that suggestion. “I didn’t mean that the way it came out.” The poor guy probably thought she was hitting on him. “I just wanted to say thank you. I really appreciate it.”
    She didn’t want him running from the house in fear for his life. The way her luck with handymen was going, she’d be needing more names and numbers by Christmas.
    â€œYou’re welcome.” Coop put his toolbox down on the wooden table and opened it. “I picked up a new washer hose for you on the way home from work.” He pulled a length of black hose from the box. “I can have it on in just a couple of minutes.”
    â€œYou don’t have to do that.” She was thrilled to death; he was standing there with a new length of hose in one hand and a wrench in the other. A flush of genuine pleasure swept up her body. “I put a call in to a plumber in Ellsworth.”
    â€œCoastal?” Coop started to take off the old busted hose, barely paying her any attention.
    â€œHow did you know?” So much for that stupid kiss remark. He had barely given it a thought, while she was getting turned on by a shiny toolboxes and a Craftsman wrench. She was either pathetic or seriously disturbed.
    â€œEllsworth only has two plumbers: Coastal and Harvey Jenkins. Harvey doesn’t own an answering machine. He’s either there, or he’s not.” Coop handed her the old, brittle hose. “Coastal would take a good week to ten days to get out here for a busted washer hose.”
    Jenni could see why Dorothy had such a hard time holding the thing together. There was a ten-inch split down the length of the hose. She now understood why there had been so much water. “Oh.” There was no way they could have waited that long to do laundry. With everything on her schedule, she couldn’t imagine sitting in a laundromat for hours with three boys—especially Tucker. She’d rather have her eyelashes plucked out by chickens.
    She watched as Coop expertly attached the new hose. Problem was, her gaze wasn’t on the hose, or what he was doing with his hands. She was intrigued by the way his shirt stretched across his broad shoulders and the way his jeans outlined the tight curve of his rear.
    The man was perfection in a pair of Wolverine boots, and she had been living out here in the woods a mite too long. One would think she didn’t know what a man looked like.
    â€œThere,” said Coop as he gave the hose one last tightening. “That should hold you for a while. You really should have replaced the hose when you moved in.” He packed up his tools and snapped the box shut.
    â€œNo one told me that.” There was a lot of stuff in life no one had bothered to inform her about, like which side of the battery jumper cables get attached to, or that dogs can heave up twice their body weight after drinking motor oil, and that little boys held peeing competitions out in the woods by