“Does it?” I ask, needing to know the answer.
“The nozzle’s attached,” Rowan says, sounding slightly terrified.
“Beautiful. And you hooked it up to the hose already. This is a dream.” I pick up the metal spray wand and test the weight.
“Whoa, whoa, whoa, Bonnie.”
“From what I’ve read, you just press this button.” The power washer turns on with a soothing hum. “And then—” I pull on the handle and blast water out of the nozzle. The small kickback startles me. I back into the doorframe of the shop, flinging my arm out—and spraying Rowan directly in the crotch.
Uh-oh.
Man.
Down.
“Oh God.” I drop the spray handle and run over to his body, curled on the floor. “Rowan, are you okay?”
“Told you . . . not to,” he says, breathing hard and cradling his crotch.
“Did it . . . did I . . . ?” Oh God. “Did I spray your balls off?”
He lets out a dry cough and shakes his head. “Nah, baws are in place, but you definitely took out a few of the cadets.”
“Sperm?” I ask, rubbing his back.
“Yes, Bonnie . . . sperm.”
“Hopefully they were going to be slow swimmers anyway.” I pat his back, and my eyes stray to the power washer. Even in my guilt, I can’t help a tug of longing. “I hope you know, I truly wish the best for your crotch at this moment, but I’m going to need you to get up so I can go to town on these floors.”
He glances up at me from his fetal position. “Are you serious?”
“Dead serious. I can feel it in my bones that I’m a power-washing wizard.” I tug on his arm. “Let’s get you up on the counter, out of range, and you can watch over me while you nurse your boaby and baws.”
“I don’t think anything is out of range for you,” he groans, slowly getting up.
I keep a steady grip on him as he hobbles to the counter and hoists himself up. “I wasn’t prepared for the wand to jump like that. Knowing the kind of power that electric puppy is packing, I’ll be in a properly prepared stance now.” I pat him on the leg and am moving to walk away when he snags my arm and spins me toward him.
He kisses me quickly. “You might have destroyed any possible boners for today, but hearing your confidence . . . well, it very well might restore what you just destroyed.”
“Is my confidence a turn-on?”
“Your confidence makes me happy, Bonnie,” he says seriously. “Makes me believe you’re starting to find that purpose, and that’s what matters.”
Taken aback, I say, “Wow, McGrumpyshire, you’re about to get yourself laid.”
He groans, shifting to the side. “Wait until tomorrow.”
Chuckling, I give him one more kiss and then go back to the power washer and pick up the wand. “Should I start in the corner?”
“Aye, and then work all the dirt toward the door.”
“Okay. I got this.”
With a deep breath, I get into my stance, hold the wand with a good stiff arm, and then pull back on the trigger. I get a small kickback, but this time I’m prepared and hold strong, immediately blasting grime off the old wood floors. I perform a spot test, like all good power washers, no more than a few square inches, but as the water blasts against the hardwood floors, I immediately see how much this is going to change the look of the shop. When I release the trigger, letting the water slosh for a second and clear out, I lean forward and marvel at the stunning oak floor that’s been here this whole time.
“Rowan, it’s beautiful.”
“Is it? I honestly can’t remember at this point.”
“It is, and the power washer doesn’t seem to pull up any of the wood or stain. Shall I continue?”
“You’re apparently the expert. Go ahead.”
Excitement pulses through me. I get into position . . . and blast.
“Bonnie, oh my gosh,” Dakota says, walking into the coffee shop for the first time since I cleaned the floors. She had her date with Isla last night, so while she was out, I took care of business. Honestly, I don’t know which was more satisfying: having Rowan between my legs or washing all the dirt off these floors.
Of course, I would never tell him that.
Don’t want to give the man a complex.
He was amazing the other night and all . . . but . . . power washing . . .
“They look brand new.”
“Right? I’m so pleased. I made Rowan take a few photos.” I pull out my phone and show her the pictures Rowan reluctantly took of me wielding the washer while he nursed his manhood.