Bella folded her arms across her chest, both in anger and to preserve her dignity. “You won’t talk to me, and now you want to fuck? Should we have angry sex and just get it over with?”
Lisa shot her a disapproving look. “I don’t do angry sex. You know that. It’s your friends who seemed to think I throw myself at women. No thanks to you.” Lisa’s heated gaze turned to ice.
Bella lowered her head, shame burning her cheeks.
“Go home.”
Despite everything, Bella didn’t want to go. Not yet. Not like this. “I thought maybe we could talk.”
“Yeah, well, you know what thought thought? Thought thought he had a new car and when he woke up, he only had a horn. Our thoughts aren’t always our reality, Bella.”
“Is there some kind of electricians’ club where you all sit around telling lame jokes?”
“Not that I’m aware of.” Lisa looked bored.
“The guy who fixed my light offered to get rid of my shorts.” He hadn’t said it exactly like that, but the look of outrage on Lisa’s face was worth rearranging his words.
“He what? Did you report him?” She clenched her jaw. “That is wrong on so many levels. You should’ve let me fix your light.”
“And get rid of my shorts.” Bella nibbled her lip.
Lisa’s nostrils flared. “You are playing with fire, Bel.” She held her gaze, heat blazing between them. “I’ve got five minutes to get back to work, and you’ve got two minutes to get off my property.”
Refusing to cower, Bella stuck her chin in the air and marched past Lisa.
“Wait up,” Lisa called after her.
Bella stopped midstride, hope blooming in her chest. Did Lisa want her after all? She turned. “Yes?”
“Put the ladder back where you found it.”
“Oh.” Feeling dejected, she walked back over to the tree and pulled on the feet of the ladder, slowly dragging it down the side of the tree.
“Forget it.” Lisa pushed her out the way. “How the fuck did you get it up there?”
“I—”
“It was a rhetorical question. Go home. Max will be waiting for you.”
Bella’s spirits lifted a little. Despite Lisa’s bravado, she’d remembered the reason Bella had dared to venture onto her property.
Bella wandered home, wet T-shirt clinging to her chest, an image of Lisa’s appreciative gaze raking over her body. Had being hosed down ignited something in Lisa, or had Bella just created a bigger gap between them?
Chapter 8
Lisa headed back to work, both annoyed and amused by the encounter with Bella. If she hadn’t gone home for lunch, she never would’ve known Bella had been on her property. The sight that greeted her had been equally infuriating and enticing. Bella had always had a killer figure, but with age, she was magnificent.
Lisa had to agree with Bella. Turning the hose on her cat hadn’t been very nice, but she’d achieved her goal. Max had bolted out of the tree as if a magpie was on his tail.
Turning the hose on Bella also wasn’t a very nice thing to do, but the temptation was too hard to resist. It had been worth Bella’s wrath. She looked cute when she was angry and hot when she was wet. Lisa’s blood pounded at the memory of Bella’s breasts visible through her wet T-shirt. Her puckered nipples had been begging for attention.
It was probably a good thing Lisa had to head to her next job, because the temptation to take Bella right there and then had almost overwhelmed her. And when she took Bella—if she took Bella—Lisa would be one hundred percent in control. It wasn’t a discussion they needed to have. She knew it, and Bella knew it.
In the next instant, Lisa’s erotic thoughts gave way to anger. How dare some random one-man-band electrician offer to get rid of Bella’s shorts. If she ever saw the prick, she would give him a piece of her mind.
Or maybe not. She’d been so bent out of shape that Bella called in someone else, she didn’t take note of the business name…lucky for him.
***
Shortly after one, Lisa pulled up at Mrs Payton’s. After parking the van, she grabbed a handful of electrical supplies. Her boss had given her very little information, so she was yet to know if it was a double or single power outlet that needed fixing.
She rapped on the door and waited. It was a quiet cul-de-sac street with average to high-end houses, most of them more expensive than she could ever hope to afford. Not on one income, anyway.
The door opened, and a woman who appeared to be in her early seventies greeted her. She had silver hair and wore a drab pink and grey dress with a high, frilly neckline. “Can I help you?”
“No, ma’am. I’m here to help you.”
“Oh, right. The electrician. Sorry, I was expecting a man.” She turned. “Follow me.”
Pleased she hadn’t been mistaken for a guy—it wouldn’t be the first time—Lisa kicked off her boots and stepped inside. The hallway was lined with portraits of what appeared to be family members.
“In here.” Mrs Payton stepped into the master bedroom. “The switch behind my bedside table.”
“Okay.” Lisa nodded. “But I’ll need to isolate the circuit first, if you wouldn’t mind showing me where the switchboard is.”
“Sure.” Mrs Payton led her through the house and out to the back porch. “It’s just around the corner, on the side of the house.”
“Thanks.” Lisa bounded down the steps, pleased the concrete was clean and dry.
Back in the bedroom, she pulled out the bedside table. Her gaze landed on a familiar object, and her eyes bugged out. Well, well, well, Mrs Payton, aren’t you a dark horse?
Lisa didn’t know whether to call her back into the room or deal with it herself. Rather than embarrass the poor woman, she nudged the large, white dildo with her sock-covered toe until it disappeared under the bed.
A second later, Mrs Payton came charging back into the room, stuttering and spluttering. “I, um, I think I might’ve left something on the floor.”
Lisa popped off the cover plate of the double power outlet. There was no need to mortify the woman any more than she already was. “Nope. Nothing here.”
“Oh, okay. I must be losing my mind.” She shook her head and left the room again.
Lisa smiled to herself. To be honest, she got a kick out of knowing such a prim and proper looking woman had the same needs as herself. After ensuring there were no broken wires, she affixed a new plate. It was a simple job that the man of the house could’ve taken care of.
“Your plug’s all good now,” Lisa said, finding Mrs Payton in the living room.
“How much do I owe you?”
“My boss will send you an invoice, but it shouldn’t be too much.” Lisa looked at the band of rings on Mrs Payton’s wedding finger. “You know, your husband probably could’ve done it.”
“I’m a widow, dear.”
“Sorry. I didn’t mean to be insensitive.”
“It’s fine. We had a lot of good years together. I almost passed him up—thought he was a pompous prick.”
Lisa chuckled, delighted by how forthright Mrs Payton was. Her spunky personality was at odds with her appearance. The older woman was actually a breath of fresh air.