The kitchen sink chose the worst possible afternoon to give up.

A thin, stubborn drip had turned into a steady trickle, then an outright leak, water tapping porcelain with maddening persistence. Kelli Curtis stood with her hands braced on the counter, blonde hair falling over one shoulder, biting back a sigh.

The house was quiet. Too quiet.

Which was exactly why the sound drove her crazy.

So she called a plumber.

Forty minutes later, the doorbell rang.

He wasn’t what she expected.

Not older. Not gruff. Not the cartoon version of a repairman.

He was calm. Broad-shouldered. Sleeves rolled to reveal strong forearms dusted with copper hair. The kind of quiet confidence that filled a doorway without trying.

“Afternoon, ma’am,” he said, offering an easy smile. “Heard you’ve got a leak.”

Kelli returned the smile, a l*ttle slower than necessary. “Seems like it.”

He worked efficiently, kneeling beneath the sink, tools clinking softly. Kelli lingered nearby longer than she needed to, pretending to wipe counters that were already spotless.

She watched the way his back flexed under his shirt. The steady, focused way he moved.

There was something strangely intimate about someone fixing your home. Touching pipes and walls and hidden places you never saw.

“Should be good now,” he said finally, turning the faucet.

Smooth. Silent. Perfect.

Relief washed through her.

“That was fast,” she said.

He shrugged. “Easy job.”

Then came the pause.

The awkward one.

She opened her purse.

Empty.

Her stomach dropped.

She’d transferred money earlier. Meant to stop at the bank. C*mpletely forgot.

“I—” She laughed softly, embarrassed. “This is ridiculous. I don’t actually have cash on me.”

“That’s okay,” he said, easygoing. “I can send an invoice.”

But the moment stretched.

Neither of them moved.

Sunlight poured through the sliding glass doors leading to the backyard pool, turning the room gold. Outside, water shimmered lazily, inviting and cool.

Kelli glanced toward it, then back at him.

An idea sparked—reckless, playful, a l*ttle dangerous.

“Well...” she said, tilting her head, voice softening. “It’s too nice a day to rush off. You’ve been working hard.”

He raised an eyebrow.

“I was about to take a swim,” she added. “Least I can offer is a break.”

There was something in her tone that changed the air between them.

A quiet challenge.

A slow smile tugged at his mouth. “A break sounds nice.”

The pool water glittered like glass.

Kelli slipped out first, letting the coolness climb her legs, her hips, her waist. The thin summer fabric she wore clung instantly, outlining every curve as she waded deeper.

She didn’t look back right away.

She didn’t have to.

She could feel his eyes.

When she finally turned, brushing wet blonde hair from her face, he was standing at the edge, shoes off, watching her with that same calm, unreadable expression.

“Water’s perfect,” she called softly.

He stepped in.

The space between them closed naturally, like magnets finding their place.

They floated close, not touching at first.

Just breathing.

Just the quiet slap of water against tile.

Droplets slid down her shoulders. Her shirt, soaked through now, turned nearly translucent in the sun. She noticed his gaze dip for half a second—then return to her eyes.

Heat curled low in her stomach.

“You saved my day,” she said quietly.

“Just doing my job.”

“Still,” she murmured.

She drifted closer.

Close enough to feel the warmth of him through the water.

Her fingers brushed his arm—light, testing.

He didn’t pull away.

The contact lingered.

A slow inhale.

A charged silence.

The world narrowed to sun, water, and the soft echo of their breathing.

Her hand slid from his arm to his chest, resting there, feeling the steady beat beneath her palm.

His other hand found her waist.

Firm. Grounding.

Not asking.

Just there.

The moment stretched like taffy—thick, sweet, impossible to break.

Then she leaned in, lips near his ear, voice barely above the water.

“Consider us even?”

He huffed a quiet laugh.

“Yeah,” he said softly. “I think we’re even.”

The pool rippled around them as the camera of the moment seemed to drift away—sunlight flashing, bodies close, laughter low and private—

And the rest of the afternoon dissolved into nothing but bl*e.

Bikini Schwimmen Tauchen Aquaphilias- Kelli Curtis- She satisfies the Plumber Underwater in the Pool mit C4s.com