Sparing the Heart (Pastime Pursuits #3) by Tracy Krimmer Page B

wine and decent conversation. I can hardly complain about that. Sometimes the connection doesn’t exist. Ned’s attractive, but creating a spark between us requires throwing a hairdryer in the bathtub with us. Gretchen wishes things worked out, but understands. She says she’ll keep an eye out for any potential dates for me. I think I’m content being single for the time being.  
    The rest of August flew by, and this first Wednesday morning in September I’m meeting Kellan at a house I think he’ll love and may be perfect for Macy. The colonial sits on top of a hill with brick exterior and huge, white pillars to the doorway. Large trees outline the massive yard for when they have children, or maybe adopt a dog. The house is priced right and within their range, and I’m sure will sell fast.
    I scoop one more forkful of scrambled eggs into my mouth and toss the remnants in the sink. I hit the switch to activate the disposal and the churning leads to a grinding I liken to that of a Saw movie. I turn it off, but not before I detect something burning. Oh boy.
    Why couldn’t this happen at a more convenient time? My schedule doesn’t allow for this today. I open the cabinet door to no signs of smoke. The motor probably burned out. I don’t have to fix this now, but it will be on my mind all day and I won’t give Kellan my full attention. I can’t leave this in shambles. Who do I contact to repair a compacter? A plumber? Ugh. This won’t be cheap. First, I should call Kellan and apologize.
    He picks up on the first ring. “It’s Kate. I’m sorry, but I need to cancel today. Can we reschedule? My garbage disposal started smoking and I have to sit around for a repair guy.”
    I’m expecting a grunt before hesitated acceptance. Instead, he says, “No, you don’t. I can help you.”
    “That’s very generous, but I can’t ask you to do that.” He’s not a plumber, and I don’t want to inconvenience him, either.
    “You didn’t. I’m offering. Please. Let me assist.”
    He’s pleading. All to fix my disposal. I imagine him on his hands and knees on my kitchen floor, in typical plumber fashion. No. If he comes here, he’s repairing the disposal. Kellan is a friend, a client, and my bowling partner, and that’s all he ever will be. I give him directions and he says he’ll be over in fifteen minutes.
    I wait and wait, constantly checking my clock for the time. Five minutes pass, then ten. I open my iPad and scan through the latest issue of Women’s Health , taking note of a few recipes I want to try and one or two workouts. He finally arrives right when he said he would, but those minutes feel like hours.  
    “Thanks for coming. You really didn’t have to.”
    He’s dressed in jeans and a white button-up shirt with the sleeves rolled up. “I know. I wanted to.” I jump out of the way as he moves past me. “Garbage disposal, huh? Let me check this out.”
    He goes right for the kitchen as though he’s been here before and opens the cabinet, crouching down to look underneath. I want to watch him, but I don’t want to make him, or myself, uncomfortable.
    “There’s a pile of paperwork vying for my attention if you don’t mind?” I can work on a couple things to avoid him. I won’t even realize he’s here.
    “No, no.” His words are muffled as he’s buried under my sink. “Go ahead. I’ll peek my head in when I’m done. Where are your tools?”
    I’m happy to report I own tools. I may not be able to fix a disposal, but that doesn’t mean I can’t do anything else. I grab my toolbox from the hall closet and bring it to him. “Here you go.”
    “Wow. I’m impressed. Macy wouldn’t know a tool box if she looked right at one.”
    Awesome. Score one for me. “My dad was quite the handyman.” There wasn’t anything he couldn’t do in my eyes.
    “Was?”
    Kellan stops and stares at me waiting for a response, but I can’t offer one. “Anyway, holler when you’re done. I’ll be in the