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Dear Bridget, I Want You(56)



Bridget turned. “Oh, that’s Nolan.”

“Did he just come from your bedroom?”

“Yes. I’ve had him locked up in there for two days. He’s doing some work for me.”

“Let’s go inside.” I wrapped my fingers around Bridget’s hip and guided her into the kitchen.

Nolan was probably a few years older than me—Bridget’s age, I’d guess. He was also pretty damn good looking—for an asshole.

“Nolan, this is Simon, my…” she hesitated. “…Simon was my tenant. He used to live here in the converted garage.”

Nolan’s eyes zoned in on the hand I had possessively holding her hip and then they lifted to meet mine. He extended his hand, which forced me to let go of Bridget. “Was? So you don’t rent it anymore?”

I ignored his question and gripped his hand in a shake that was so firm it bordered on assault. “What kind of work are you doing here?”

Bridget answered. “A pipe burst in the bathroom while I was at work a few days ago. It flooded through the wall of my bedroom. Nolan repaired the pipes and now he’s fixing up the wall that needs to be replaced. He was just finishing up for the day.”

“Why didn’t you call me?”

“Umm. Because you were in London, Simon?”

“Well I’m back. So I can take care of whatever’s not done.”

Bridget stared at me for a long time. She knew exactly what I was not-so-politely trying to say. After our unspoken exchange, she turned back to Nolan with a full smile. “So, tomorrow morning, then?”

The asshat smirked. He looked at me and back at Bridget with a grin that I wanted to punch from his face. “Looking forward to it.”

While Bridget walked the predator out, I went to check out her bedroom. Sure enough, the entire wall that abuts her bathroom had been ripped out and new sheet rock was hung. There was dust all over the place, and the top of the Spackle bucket wasn’t even closed properly.

“What are you doing, Simon?” Returning to the bedroom, Bridget folded her arms across her chest in the doorway.

“Shutting the Spackle bucket so Asshat’s mud doesn’t dry up and you aren’t sniffing chemicals all night.”

“That’s not what I meant.”

She looked annoyed for some reason. “I didn’t mean what are you doing at this moment. Clearly, I can see you’re shutting a bucket that was fine the way it was. I meant, what are you doing showing up here and acting like some sort of a jealous boyfriend?”

“Did you see the way that dick was looking at you?”

“That dick came highly recommended by your friend, Calliope, and he wasn’t looking at me inappropriately. He’s also charging me half the price that the other guy wanted.”

I scoffed. “That’s because he wants in your pants.”

“So what if he does, Simon? Why is that your concern, anyway? I’m a big girl and can take care of myself.”

This was nothing like I’d imagined our reunion   going down. I was acting like a dick, but it was only because the thought of any man taking care of Bridget other than me made me insane. “I’m sorry. I’m protective of you. I was being a jerk.”

“Yes, you were.” Her face softened. “How was your trip?”

“It was…good. Exactly what I needed, actually.”

“So, you got the job then?”

“Yes. I did.”

Bridget frowned and turned to walk out of the bedroom. She went directly into the bathroom before I could stop her and say more. I waited outside in the hallway. When she didn’t come out after a few minutes, I leaned my head against the door and gently knocked. “Bridget?”

“What, Simon?”

“We need to talk.”

A few minutes later, she opened the door, and I could tell she’d been crying. I’d royally fucked this homecoming up. I had visions of showing up and her falling into my arms. We’d make mad, passionate love, and I’d tell her I was in love with her. Instead, her face was red, eyes were puffy, and I’d acted like a big dick.

I stood in front of the doorway when she tried to walk out of the bathroom. “I need to go pick up Brendan, Simon.”

“Okay. But we need to talk. Can I wait for you?”

“I’m taking Brendan to exchange his birthday present after I pick him up.”

“What did you get him?”

“A bike.”

“Black with flames?”

Bridget gave me a sad smile. “Blue with a white racing stripe. How did you know what he wanted?”

“He showed me a picture of it. It’s a really cool bike. Think they make it for six-foot-two dicks?”