Surviving Love (LarssonSiblingSeries#6)

CHAPTER THREE

THEO

I dismount my bike when the navigation on my phone tells me that I arrived at my destination. It was strange enough trying to make my way past the security guards with them checking over my bike and pulling every piece of equipment from my backpack. But stepping back to admire the house in front of me is something else.

It's like a masterpiece out of Grand Designs-a British housing programme my flat mate got me into watching.

I pull out my phone to message Benson to let him know I got here safe. A thing I have to do whenever I leave the shop. Safety first. I need for people to know where I am. Always.

Theo: They have security guards who went through my stuff!

Benson: Of course they do. They're in money, lad. Take a second to breathe. Did they take anything of yours away?

Theo: No, I repacked my bag twice. Don't think I'm missing anything. But, it's put me in a bad mood.

I like to communicate by written word and signing with my hands. It's the easiest way for me to get my point across.

Benson: It shouldn't be a hard job. You'll be in and out.

There's a sudden noise that has me stuffing my phone inside the pocket of my work jacket to see the woman with the leak.

Laine Larsson is her name. I know this because I checked her paperwork two times before getting here.

"Can I get you a drink?" says the sister after inviting me into the house.

I don't remember her name, though, but I do know that she's a singer of some sort.

Fans hung around the store for hours after she last visited with her husband, Finn.

Big guy with a heart of gold.

I shake my head twice.

"Ah, okay," she replies, narrowing her eyes a bit to motion towards Laine. "Laine will show you up there."

Laine nods at the staircase. "Leak is up here, but the water supply comes from downstairs.

Leak first. Water next. "Show me where you think the leak is."

"Follow me," she says, flashing me a soft frown when I pull the neck of my jumper past my face.

I stop when she holds her arm out to keep me from entering the bathroom. "The floor looks like it's going to fall through. Be careful."

"Did you soak all of the excess water yet?" I sign, dropping to my knees to open my backpack.

She hesitates. "We threw towels down, but it looks like more water came out."

I pull out the tools I think I'll need to fix the burst pipe. "Towels ar-are best. More of 'em."

She nods, stepping towards the airing cupboard, before turning back to me. "You're from South Africa?"

I'm taken back. My words so muddled up in my head to make any sense when they eventually pass through my lips. "Yes. Towels please."

"Right," she says on a small smile, dragging a few big sheets out. "These any good? I'll just get to it."

No. I jump to my feet to stop her from going any further into the bathroom. "I can do it."

It's not until she pulls her arms back that I realise that I grabbed onto her elbows in the process. "Sorry. Too risky."

She stares at her fingers as she wriggles them. "I'll leave you to it."

I shuffle into the room with towels in hand, testing the sodden floorboards with my foot before deciding that it looks worse than it actually is considering they hold my two-hundred-pound body.