#Chapter 86: Lemonade

Iris Arthur accepts the lemonade gratefully, and I can’t help but watch the way his throat moves as he swallows, a bead of sweat trailing down his neck and disappearing beneath his collar. I’ve never seen him like this before—dirty, sweaty, his hair mussed from work rather than styled for appearance. I like it. I like it a lot more than I expected. “This is good,” he says after finishing half the glass in one go. “Thank you.” I sit beside him on the bench, maintaining a careful distance. “How’s the… plumbing going?” “Fixed the leak upstairs and reinforced some of the joists that were getting waterlogged. Now I’m working on the back steps.” He gestures to the half-completed porch. “Some of the boards were completely rotted through. It’s a wonder no one’s fallen through yet.” I nod, sneaking glances at him as he drinks his lemonade. There’s something undeniably attractive about a man working with his hands, creating or fixing something. Especially whe