CHAPTER 7: PATRICK
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Patrick’s stomach growled as he put the tools away and slid the toolbox under the sink. The job was done and the food smelled delicious, but it wasn’t for him. Annie had made that clear and he couldn’t blame her. He’d handled the earlier situation poorly, but he didn’t like her being mad at him. He stood. “All done. Don’t use it for at least twelve hours.”
“Goodbye.” Annie pulled the chicken out of the oven and separated it onto two plates.
Chelsea nudged her.
Annie shot her friend a glare, but said, “Thank you for fixing the sink.”
“You’re welcome.” At least someone was on his side. He smiled at Chelsea. She was a cute, little red-head but his eyes kept drifting back to Annie.
“Oh, crap.” Chelsea pulled her phone from her pocket.
“What’s wrong?” Annie
