“Damn it,” she muttered. If just his kiss did that to her, imagine if… “Stop it.” She had to snap out of this crazy fantasy. “Stop it, Leah.”
Carter had left. He’d left her wanting and that just proved he wasn’tworthwanting.
She went into the house and pulled the white voile curtains across the wide windows. The sun was glowing bright and the house needed some shade.
She then placed the food in the refrigerator and washed her hands.
The water came out of the tap in a fast cold spurt, soaking her arms and chest. “Oh!”
Quickly, she tried to turn it off. Blinking in the spray.
But it wouldn’t twist off.
“Damn it!” With each passing second, she got wetter. “What is happening?”
She grabbled with the faucet but couldn’t get it to move even a fraction. Tried it the other way. If anything, that made it worse.
She gasped and grabbed a towel, then threw it over the torrent that was arcing upward. The towel was instantly soaked.
Fumbling for her cell, she called the emergency number the landlord had given via email.
“Pick up. Pick up.” The tiled floor was a shiny puddle growing by the second.
There was no answer. Not even a voicemail option.
Asshole.
She tossed the cell to one side and tried again to turn the faucet. All that happened was she got wetter—her hair, her face, her dress. Absolutely sopping.
What was she going to do?
She couldn’t leave it.
Rushing to the table, she grabbed her purse and dug out the scrap of paper with Carter’s number scrawled on it. Then, after nearly slipping on the wet floor, she keyed in his number.
He answered on the second ring. “Yeah?” An engine sounded in the background.
“Carter, it’s me. Leah.”
“Leah! You okay?” His tone was brisk.
She hoped she hadn’t made a mistake calling him.
“Yes, well no. My kitchen has turned into a waterfall. The faucet, it’s … gushing. I can’t turn it off. The place is flooding and—”
“I’m on my way.” He hung up.
A sense of relief went through her, but only for a second because she saw how wet the window was that looked out at the clematis-covered fence. “Oh no.”
Again, she rushed to hold the towel over the blasting flow of water. She had to turn her head to stop the spray from hitting her in the face.
After a couple of minutes, she spotted movement at the door. Carter.
He pushed in, past the billowing voile, and strode to the kitchen area. “Jesus, you weren’t kidding.”
“Watch out, it’s really wet. The floor.”
He didn’t seem to notice as he dragged off his t-shirt, then got to his knees at her side and opened the cupboard door. His top half disappeared as he went in on his back to fiddle at the base of the sink.