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There was a series of encounters that led to Emma Swan and Killian Jones falling for each other. Each time, Killian found a reason to take his shirt off. Each time, Emma found a reason for him to come back. The following is the first encounter.
*******
Emma sighed, throwing the paper on the counter. She glared at her broken sink.
“You are about to meet your match.”
Her eyes fell to the add she had stumbled upon in the paper. “Good work for low prices: Jones home repair”
She hoped they worked with stubborn sinks. The stupid thing had been broken for weeks and she was not nearly educated enough in plumbing to fix it herself. Despite many long, frustrating and wet nights trying. She gave it one last look before picking up her cell and dialing the number listed on the add.
“Hello, Jones home repair, how may I assist-“
“Do you know how to fix a sink that doesn’t run water but brown, nondescript sludge and more often than not spits up whatever is put in its disposal?” The other end was silent for a moment, the only sign they didn’t hang up being the sound of slow, steady breathing.
Great, another person who couldn’t fix the sink from hell. She had started to hang up, not wanting to hear his excuses as to why he was unable or unqualified to get the job done, when his reply finally came.
“That sounds like it’s within my capabilities, milady. What time would you like us to come out?”
Milady? What was this the 1800s or something? She didn’t comment on his outdated choice of words, far too relieved that there was finally a challenger to her impossible kitchen appliance.
“Can you come like… right now?” He laughed. A deep, smooth sound that sent shivers down her spine. “I don’t see why not,” There was a short pause before he added, “May I have your address?”
“Milady” “May I” … and all in a charming, British accent. What kind of repair guy was this? She tried pushing aside all plumber stereotypes she had developed through the years and began to picture what this polite Brit may look like. Though she was having trouble truly picturing anything beyond the typical, middle-aged man with pants that didn’t quite fit and a receding hair line.
It was only when he awkwardly cleared his throat and asked if she was still there that she realized she hadn’t answered him.
“Sorry. It’s 1125 Enchanted Street. The house with the white picket fence. If you have trouble finding it, my name is Emma Swan. Just about anyone in town can help you find me.”
“Enchanted street? That’s quite…” “Fairytaleish?” She finished for him.
“Yes, I suppose that’s how one could describe it.”
“Well, Storybrooke is kind of a fairytaleish town.”
There was silence on the other end once more, but thankfully it didn’t last long this time.
“Aye, that it is. Me and the crew will be there in about 10 minutes. Tell your sink to prepare for the worst.”
She couldn’t help the smile that spread across her face. “I can’t wait to see the showdown.”
+++
Ten minutes passed surprisingly slow. Some strange, uncontrollable part of Emma was anxious to meet the face that went with that voice. But, of course, she told herself she was just anxious to finally get her impossible sink fixed once and for all.
She jumped a little when the doorbell finally rang but quickly collected herself, running across the room to open the door. What she saw standing behind it, she most definitely wasn’t prepared for.
“Emma Swan?” The dark haired man asked. Though she had trouble hearing him, far too distracted by- well- him.
She wasn’t usually the type to see some guy and have her jaw drop to the ground, but this man. This freaking man. His messy black hair stuck out in all directions, a few rouge pieces hanging in his eyes, intensifying the piercing blue orbs. And his smile. She didn’t like to sound cliché but she was pretty certain it was the brightest she'd ever seen. She didn’t even dare look past his face, though she did take a small peek, regretting it immediately because of course he was wearing a shirt that was too tight and of course he had well toned biceps. What else could be expected from a man that was already unnaturally attractive? How could he not also be incredibly fit.
It dawned upon her that she had gone a very long time without answering his question and she shook herself from her thoughts before they went down incredibly dangerous paths.
“Um, yeah, that’s me.”
"Killian Jones. It's a pleasure to meet you," He raised an eyebrow, locking eyes with her for a long, drawn out moment before pointing past her to her kitchen, “I suppose the beast we are facing is in there?”
She chuckled at his chosen description. If only he knew how apropos it really was.
“Yep. but I have to warn you… it’s especially angry today.”
Either she was insane or there was an actual twinkle in the man’s eye.
What exactly had she gotten herself into?
“Well you are in luck, love. I love a challenge.” He stared at her for far longer than necessary, the cocky grin never leaving his face, then waved to his crew to follow him as he pushed past Emma and into the kitchen.
No surprise, he used it as an opportunity to brush against her. An action which certainly did not make Emma’s skin tingle even when he was no longer there. Definitely not.
She fanned her face with her hand, the kitchen suddenly seeming far too small and incredibly hot.
“Just to warn you, it tends to spray out a lot of questionable looking liquid when you mess with the pipes.”
He stopped in his tracks, looking her dead in the eyes. This guy was up to something… Emma wasn’t sure she wanted to know what it was.
“Well then I suppose I should take precautions.” Keeping his eyes on her the whole time, he slowly pulled his shirt up and over his head, discarding it on the floor with an all too satisfied grin. “That’s one of my best shirts. Wouldn’t want it to get ruined.”
What a smug, arrogant little jerk. He knew just exactly what he was doing, and she refused to play along any longer.
“Let me know when it’s fixed.” With that, she stormed out of the room, not even giving him a chance to reply.
She couldn’t bring herself to leave the space completely, though. What harm would it be if she just watched them work from the next room? It’s not like he could see her. It wouldn’t be going to his head. Besides, maybe she could learn a thing or two about sink maintenance… that is, if she’d paid more attention to what they were doing instead of the way Killian’s muscles moved and contracted as he worked.
She downed the rest of her water, swallowing hard when Killian stopped and turned, looking directly at her. There wasn’t anything she could do but stare back. Though she debated whether it would make her look ridiculous if she just quickly diverted her gaze. Of course, the answer was yes. It definitely would. She swore this man made her feel like a middle school girl with a crush.
He whispered something to Smee- the small man who seemed to follow his every move- and smiled cheekily. Emma wondered what he was saying that he was so proud of himself for, but the thought was cut short when he began to walk over to her.
Crap.
Why she felt the sudden need to fix her hair, she didn’t want to even address.
“Miss,” He stopped when he was inches away from her and pointed back to the kitchen, “I am proud to announce that your impossible sink has been conquered. I think you’ll find that the water it provides you is far from toxic sludge, and the disposal doesn’t try to give back what it’s fed.”
She wanted to scream, or dance, or jump around or something- anything. She was just unbelievably thrilled that she would no longer have to wrestle with the stupid thing. Instead of doing any of those things, she ran to the kitchen and turned the handle, beyond satisfied with the clear, pure water that flowed out.
“It really works. You actually fixed it!”
She turned around, her breath catching in her throat when she ran into a bare chest. Strong, calloused hands wrapped around her arms to steady her. Those unfairly blue eyes stared down at her when she finally got the courage to look up, and she wished that she’d kept her eyes on the ground.
“Careful, love,” Killian whispered, “Don’t get too excited. You never know when things may break again…” For a moment, Emma forgot anyone else was in the room with them. They may as well of not been, Killian seemed to only notice her, and she had trouble focusing on anything but the feeling of his skin on hers and the deep, gravely tone his voice had taken on. “And if something does happen to break, feel free to call me. I’m always available.”
The way he said the last part was almost sinful. She could feel the heat rising to her cheeks.
“Thanks,” She stepped away from him suddenly, shaking herself from her trance, “But I can handle my house on my own.”
It was true. She could. Emma Swan had never needed anyone and she certainly wasn’t going to start now. But deep down she knew it wouldn’t be his handyman skills she’d be calling him for… and suddenly she remembered a wobbly kitchen chair that had been bugging her for a while.
He raised his eyebrow and a small smirk tugged at the corners of his mouth. Two things she was learning were signature looks for him. Then there was that twinkle in his eye again, though this time she was positive she wasn’t imagining it.
“I’ve no doubt you can handle just about anything, love. But, nevertheless, you have my number.” He winked, leaving her standing there speechless as he gathered his crew and disappeared out the door.
Emma stood alone in her kitchen for a long while after that. She didn’t quite understand what had just happened. It all went by so fast and now here she was, by herself once more, staring at a piece of paper with 7 digits scribbled on it.
Finally, she picked up her phone and dialed, waiting patiently as the phone rang.
“Hello?”
“Killian…” She paused. What was she doing?
“Emma, love, is that you already?”
Her face must’ve been crimson. Never had she been more grateful that there was such thing as a non face to face conversation.
“Yes, okay. I just realized that I have a couple more things that you could do. I’d do them myself, of course, but-“
“-But you just couldn’t pass up the opportunity to see me again?”
She rolled her eyes. Even over the phone he was an unrelenting flirt.
“Just tell me if you’re free to come over next week so I can get a list ready.”
“Like I said, darling… I’m always available.”
++++++
The second time Killian came by, it was a dull, rainy day in Storybrooke.
Emma had gotten a surprise call into work and had left the door open for him with a note plastered to it reading "Sorry I missed you. The key is on the table so you can lock up when you're done" .
It wasn’t in character for her to do. To just leave her door wide open to a practical stranger. But something about Killian Jones made her trust him, whether she wanted to admit it out loud or not.
However, she found herself regretting it when she came home to find him still there… and once again lacking a shirt.
The rain pattered pleasantly against her umbrella as she stood on her porch steps, watching the insane man as he worked.
“Ah, Swan, you’re home.”
Emma took in the sight before her. Killian stood in the middle of her porch, splattered in paint from head to toe, holding a brush that also sported the blue paint he was wearing so proudly.
“What the h:):):) are you doing?”
His face fell in the most irritatingly adorable way. Of course, the man couldn’t settle for just hot. He had to be unbelievably cute too.
“Well, I fixed the chair like you wanted me to, and it went brilliantly. But just when I was about to leave I noticed that your porch could use a fresh coat of paint. So, I went to the store, bought the paint and have been working on it for most of the day.”
She looked around, finally taking notice of her bright blue porch. He was out of his mind.
“Killian… my porch wasn’t blue before.”
His eyes widened to twice their normal size, as if he was just as confused by it all as she was.
“Hm, was it not?” He shrugged, “Well maybe it’ll brighten the place up a bit.”
Emma chuckled in spite of herself. What kind of idiot spent all day painting in the pouring rain and didn’t even take the time to notice it wasn’t the right color? Apparently Killian was that kind of idiot. That kind of unfairly attractive, adorable, overly confident idiot who thought he could get away with staying there till she got home if he had an excuse for it.
The rain picked up and began to drench them both, making it quite clear that it was time to either resign themselves to their fate or go inside. The choice seemed obvious to Emma, but not so much to Killian.
“You’re going to get soaked.” Emma shouted over the rain. “I’m already soaked.” “Well you’re going to get even more soaked. Stop being stubborn and come inside.” Finally, he gave in, following her as she dragged him inside.
“You are actually insane, you know that Jones?”
Emma rolled her eyes as he looked at her smugly, but then he stepped closer. And she could feel his hot breath and see the way his pupils dilated as he concentrated on her. She felt like she was going to melt.
“That may be,” He spoke in a low, raspy whisper, “But somehow I ended up here with you in your home, the only thing between us a few insignificant inches. So, perhaps, I haven’t done anything all that wrong?”
Her heart dropped to her stomach. What this man could do to her with just a few words was both exhilarating and completely terrifying. She could hardly stop herself from sighing as he took her hand in his and pressed a light kiss to it.
“You are a fascinating woman, Emma Swan.”
The word fascinating should not of sounded romantic or sexy at all but somehow Killian managed to make it both. Why did he have to be so close, and so shirtless.
“I’m nothing special.”
He shook his head, looking almost offended. “Love, I’ve known you but one week and I know you are anything but ‘nothing special’. Perhaps one day, you’ll see that too.”
She didn’t know what to do or say. She could hardly keep her thoughts sorted with him in her space like he was.
“I… think that the porch will need to be weather proofed now that it has new paint.”
It was obvious that she was trying to change the subject, she realized that. But she never signed up for deep conversations or heart spilling sessions with her handyman. He didn’t feel the need to comment on the sudden shift in topics if he noticed, simply nodding and stepping out of her space. Something she was incredibly grateful for.
“I can do that on Friday.”
She smiled. “I’ll see you Friday, then.”
++++++
The third time Killian came by, Emma was prepared. She had a list of things to keep him occupied so that she could work in peace. She would not be watching him from the living room or indulging his flirty behavior in any way. Nope. She would not.
The melodic sound of the doorbell filled the room and Emma got up hastily to answer it- maybe too hastily- but she wasn’t addressing that.
She tried not to act disappointed when she opened the door and found Killian wasn’t alone.
“You’re early.”
He faked checking a nonexistent watch then looked back up at her with a devilish grin. “Is that so? My watch tells me I’m just on time.”
She shouldn’t of laughed at the cheesy joke. The last thing he needed was encouragement. Yet here she was, laughing. The effect he had on her was becoming increasingly hard to ignore.
“Just come in. I have a lot of stuff for you to do.”
“Oh yeah?” He locked her in place with a dangerous look, one she was beginning to recognize as his flirty look. “I guess we’ll have to be here working… all day then.”
Emma felt as though she could burn someone with how hot her face was getting.
“I guess so.”
They just sat there for a few long moments, staring at each other as if their lives depended on it. Though she was beginning to think he may actually be the death of her. It was only when the man Killian had brought with him cleared his throat and nudged him that they both remembered they weren’t alone, and that they’d been spaced out for far too long. Emma shook her head and stepped aside, gesturing awkwardly to her living room.
“Um, you guys can start in there. I have this coffee table that’s had loose legs for forever and I thought, while you’re here, you might as well fix that up.”
The man- Emma could now see by his name tag his name was Liam-instantly rushed in the house. Apparently the chance to get away from them was an offer he couldn’t pass up. Killian hung back, though, and once again she found herself in far too close proximity with him. It seemed the man had no concept of personal space.
“It’s quite strange, love,” He whispered, placing a hand on the doorframe behind her, “I thought for sure I had fixed that coffee table the last time I was here.”
She swallowed. No matter what she said or did, she couldn’t win this. Of course, he was misremembering. Because Emma did not spend the night before making a list of random things just so she’d have an excuse to have him there for longer. She did not want to see Killian Jones that badly.
“Well maybe you should think again. That table has been broken for months,” She fixed him with a confident smile as she whispered her next words, “So, if you don’t mind, you better go fix it.”
He shook his head but did as asked, leaving her standing there to revel in her victory.
Point Emma.
But she had been wrong to assume he’d give up that easily. A proud smile on his face, he unbuttoned his shirt one by one and shrugged it off, swinging it over his shoulder like he was posing for a GQ photoshoot or something.
“It is quite hot in here, isn’t it, Liam?” He winked at her before turning around and beginning his work as if nothing had happened at all.
She huffed. Point Killian.
++++++
The fourth time Killian came by, it was weeks later. Emma wasn’t even sure why she had called him. Well, she’d told him (And herself) that the doorbell was broken. But truthfully, it had been working fine apart from needing new batteries. In fact everything in her home was working as new since he had been around. She had absolutely zero use for a handyman. However, she was longing for company.
It felt like she spent most of her life alone in a home too large for one. It wasn’t that she didn’t have friends- she had more than she ever dreamed she could. She didn’t lack purpose, or friendship… yet something still felt like it was missing in her life.
The tv reflected a blue glow on her face as it played the newest episode of NCIS. A show which drove Emma crazy with its inaccuracy yet still had her coming back for more every season. Abby and Gibbs had been seconds away from a breakthrough when there was a loud rapping on the door.
Emma clicked pause, looking back at her front door curiously. Who was knocking when there was a doorbell right there?
“Who’s there?” She yelled, preparing herself in case it turned out to be some psycho axe killer.
Because most psycho axe killers knocked before coming after their victims.
“Tis I, love. Your devilishly handsome, ever-charming handyman.”
She rolled her eyes. Only Killian would refer to himself as ‘devilishly handsome’.
He smiled at her as she swung the door open, cheeky as always.
“Why are you knocking when I have a doorbell?”
“Because your doorbell is broken… that’s why I’m here, remember?”
Her face heated up instantly. If there was a way to dig a hole and jump inside it right then and there, she would.
“Right. Of course,” She bit her lip, trying to think of something to say that wouldn’t make her sound like more of an idiot than she already had, “It’s… really broken.”
Yeah, that definitely made her sound better than before.
“Wow. Really broken, huh? And here I was prepared for just plain old broken.” He teased, his eyes bright with amusement.
Was he ever going to be able to come over and the two of them could just have a normal conversation? No flirting or teasing or shirtlessness. The answer to that question was very obvious, but she chose to tell herself that maybe she was wrong. Maybe she was just imagining all the little moments between them because she was desperate for a person in her life that was a little more than a friend. She could’ve believed it if he hadn’t shut it down before she could dwell on it, leaning in so he was mere centimeters away from her face, his nose bumping hers as he stared into her eyes.
“If you want to get close to me, you just have to ask… there’s no reason to use a broken doorbell as an excuse.”
Could he be more arrogant? If it weren’t for his bright white smile, his thick hair that never quite wanted to stay out of his face and his absolutely unfairly blue eyes, she’d say he had no right. But if anyone had grounds to think themselves incredibly hot, it was Killian Jones. No matter how much Emma hated to admit it.
“Just fix the stupid doorbell, Jones.” She stepped away from him, starting to close the door before pausing and adding, “And keep your shirt on!”
+++
It felt like hours before he was finished. For heaven’s sake, how long did it take to fix a doorbell that wasn’t actually broken? But when he came in, it was suddenly all too clear what had taken him so long.
“Killian what the h:):):) did you do out there?”
He grinned sheepishly, dusting off the grass from his hair. Though it didn’t make much of a difference. He was still covered in it and mud on every inch of his body.
“Your lawn needed mowing.” “I didn’t hear you run the mower…” “Perhaps that’s because you have the volume on that blasted tv up to the highest level possible. I could hear it all the way outside.”
She blushed. It wasn’t her fault that the characters always insisted on talking in a whisper at the most important moments.
“That still doesn’t explain why you’re covered in mud.”
“Ah, that,” He looked down at his mud stained clothes, unconcerned. “Let’s just say I got into a bit of trouble with an unexpected puddle.”
It was impossible not to laugh at the ridiculous, filthy man standing in front of her. How do you just not notice a mud puddle? And as if that wasn’t enough, he actually fell into it to. She was beginning to think she was dealing with a 5 year old child instead of a 30 something, grown man.
“Ok. You cannot come into this house like that.” She looked him up and down, trying and failing to contain her laughter.
“Oi, don’t laugh! It could’ve happened to anyone.”
But it didn’t, it happened to him. A thing for which Emma was maybe too glad for.
“I’m sure it could’ve. But that doesn’t matter. You still can’t track mud through my house, buddy.”
She instantly regretted her words when a mischievous look crossed his face, and he began to slip his shoes off. Then his shirt. Then his-
“Whoa, whoa. Stop right there.”
“What? You said I can’t come in like this. I’m only following your rules, Swan.” His tone was taunting, his lips curled into a fake pout.
“I did not mean take off all your clothes!”
“So what you’re saying is that you don’t want me to take off my muddy clothes?”
“YES!” She turned around on the couch and shielded her eyes with her hand, pointing at him sternly with the other. “Now get dressed.”
“As you wish,” He mumbled his next words under his breath, but Emma could still hear them clearly, “Make up your mind, Swan.”
When he was once again fully clothed, Emma pointed him in the direction of the bathroom and waited as he cleaned himself up. She swore, if he came out of that bathroom with nothing on, he was going to find himself outside in the cold in a rather embarrassing state. But much to her relief, he was fully covered in the robe she’d given him when he finally emerged. Though he did leave enough of it open that she could see his chest hair on full display.
“You know, love. I could’ve just showered at my own home,” A blush rose to his cheeks as he stared down at the women’s robe he was currently modeling, “Where I have clothes that are actually for men.”
She stifled a laugh, making a note to try and fluster him more often. The pink tint on his cheeks made him look awfully cute.
“I know. But then I wouldn’t have this image burnt into my brain for forever, and that would just be a waste.”
“You’re a cruel woman, Swan.”
“And you’re a very pretty woman in that flowery robe, Jones.”
He narrowed his eyes, unamused with her. Finally, she wasn’t on the receiving end of the teasing. And she had to say, she was really enjoying it. But it wasn’t so funny anymore when he closed the space between them, practically pinning her against the wall. His jaw clenched and his pupils blown wide so that the blue could hardly be seen in the darkness. Even in a girl’s robe he still managed to look dangerously hot.
“Why did you have me shower here?” he whispered, his breath hot against her face. “You could’ve just as easily paid me and sent me on my way.”
Had her throat been this dry the entire time?
“I don’t know. I just…”
“Didn’t want me to leave?”
She snapped up to meet his gaze, taken aback by his bluntness. (And the truth his words held.) There was a million excuses she could’ve made. But what was the point? They both knew why she kept calling him back here, and it wasn’t because she needed him to fix stuff for her.
“Maybe I didn’t.”
Her hand fell to his chest, those same sparks from weeks back electrifying her skin where it met his. She began to lean in, to throw all caution to the wind and let herself give into attraction for once, but he stopped her.
“No,” He pulled back, letting her hand fall from his chest, “Not like this.”
Was he serious? All these weeks of flirting, all those comments he made, his inability to wear a shirt when he was around her and now he was just saying no? She wasn’t crazy. She didn’t imagine what was between them. So what the h:):):) was wrong with him?
“What do you mean ‘not like this’? I thought you wanted this.”
Sighing, he rubbed his hands down his face, finally letting them fall to his hips. If she wasn’t so mad, the image of him standing there with his hair all tousled and his hands on his hips in his floral robe may have made her laugh.
“I do want it. You have no idea how much I want it. It’s just…” “Just what?” “I am not going to kiss you for the first time in a ladies robe, Emma! I refuse to let that be what I remember when I look back on this moment.”
Her heart stopped. He had really thought about this hadn’t he?
“You mean… This is a moment you’ll want to look back on?”
He stepped closer, tucking a stray piece of hair behind her ear. Never in the weeks she’d known him had she seen such a genuine, tender look in his eyes.
“Of course. I like you, Emma. I have since the moment I first saw you. And when I finally kiss you…” A small smile tugged at the corners of his mouth, “It’s going to shake the whole bloody universe.”
++++++
The fifth time Killian came by, on a rainy evening in march, Emma was completely surprised. They hadn’t spoken in over two months. Not since that moment all those nights before. Even when she would pick up the phone to call, she always found herself putting it down, making an excuse that she’d ‘call him another day’ or ‘he’s probably not near his work phone right now’.
So when he showed up, soaking wet, at her door, not in his work clothes but clad in thread-bare pajama pants and a Pearl Jam t-shirt, she didn’t know how to react.
“Killian? What are you doing here?”
“What am I doing here?” He pointed an accusatory finger at her, narrowing his eyes to slits. “You haven’t called in two months. Two bloody months, Swan. Are you trying to drive a man mad?”
She laughed bitterly. Who did he think he was? There was absolutely no rule that said she had to call him. She wasn’t obligated to him in any way.
“I haven’t called because I haven’t needed anything fixed. Did you ever stop to think that maybe I wouldn’t need you around for forever?”
A look of hurt flashed across his face and Emma’s heart sank. Maybe she went too far. “Killian, I didn’t mean-“
“No I know what you meant,” His voice was low, almost insecure. “I also know that you’re only saying that because you feel something for me and that scares you.”
She started to protest, her walls shooting up miles high, but she didn’t get the chance.
“But let me promise you something, Emma… I will win your heart. And when I do, it will not be because of any trickery, and it will not be because of some heated moment in your hallway,” He took a single step forward, his eyes never leaving hers, “It will be because you want me.”
As fast as he had shown up, he was gone. Leaving Emma standing alone in the doorway with a single, terrifying thought on her mind. She was falling for Killian Jones. Hard.
++++++
The sixth and final time Killian came by was just days after he confronted Emma about her feelings. Emma had no clue what she was going to tell him when he got there. When she’d called him, all she knew was that she had to see him.
All her life she had run from anyone who tried to get close to her. Now, she was open to so many people. Yet she still struggled to open her heart to love. She was tired of it. Tired of waking up alone, tired of living in this giant house all by herself, just tired of having to go through life without someone by her side.
The doorbell rang, breaking Emma from her thoughts.
She almost choked when she opened the door. Killian stood there, his hair tamed, dressed in a leather jacket and dark jeans. As much as she loved his usual rugged, working man look, she had never seen him look as handsome as he did standing before her now.
A brilliant smile lit up his face. “Hello, love.”
Why couldn’t she speak? It seemed like all she could get out were incoherent mumbles.
“Hi.” She finally managed to reply, swallowing the lump in her throat.
She waited for his comment about how he ‘took her breath away’ or something equally as cocky, but it never came. Even more odd, a deep blush colored his cheeks. Was he… nervous? He scratched that spot behind his ear he always did when he was feeling awkward, confirming her suspicions. He was nervous. Why he was nervous, well Emma didn't have a single idea of that.
“I know I’m not dressed properly for work. But I thought maybe…”
“What?”
His Adam’s apple bobbed in his throat as he looked up to meet her gaze. “I thought maybe that’s not why you called me.”
Her face must’ve been turning a million shades of red. Could she hide anything from this man? It was only when she saw the disappointment in his usually bright eyes that she realized she’d gone too long without answering.
“If I was wrong, I can just- “ “-You weren’t.” She blurted out, panicked at the thought of him leaving.
A small smile replaced the worried look on his face.
“Really?”
It surprised her how genuinely unsure he sounded. She didn’t know Killian was capable of feeling unsure about anything. Yet the longer she knew him, the more she saw the quirks and insecurities he worked so hard to keep hidden.
“Really,” She grabbed the lapels of his jacket, pulling him inside. He made no attempt to move away from her once they were behind the door and this time she was glad to have him so close. “I like you, Killian. I have since the moment I first saw you… and since you’re not wearing a woman’s robe anymore, I’d like to be given that universe shaking kiss now.”
All he did was stare at her for a moment, his eyes wide. She was beginning to worry he wasn’t interested anymore. Had she just made a complete idiot of herself? But then, he cupped her face in his hand, looking at her with something akin to love.
“As the lady wishes.” He whispered, his hand running through her hair and down her arm until it finally found its mark on her waste. Not wasting another minute, he crashed his lips to hers, holding nothing back.
Emma melted into him, giving back just as much passion as she was receiving. She couldn’t help but think universe-shaking didn’t even begin to describe the way he was kissing her.
When they finally pulled apart, neither could quite hold themselves up. Killian pressed his forehead to hers as he searched for the right words.
“That was…”
Emma grinned. “A really great start to your work day.”
By the look on his face, you’d have thought he was a child being forced to do chores.
“Oh, come on, Swan. You’re not really going to make me work while I’m here.”
“I don’t know,” She teased, stepping away from him, “The door could use a fresh coat of paint…”
The last word barely slipped off her tongue before she found herself wrapped in his arms again, his lips against hers.
“I’m sorry, love,” He whispered against her lips, “I don’t think I can be your handyman anymore.”
“And why is that?”
“Because I intend to spend a lot of time doing well… this,” He pressed a light kiss to her lips, “And I do believe that’s what they call a conflict of interest.”
Emma couldn’t stop herself from smiling. “Well, we couldn’t have that.”
He shook his head, mumbling a ‘nope’ against her cheek as his lips moved down her face.
“Too bad. Where else am I going to find a handsome handyman who refuses to keep his shirt on for your prices?”
“Sorry, Swan. I’m afraid I’m one of a kind.”
That statement couldn’t have been truer. In all her life, Emma had definitely never met anyone quite like him.
“Well then I guess I’ll just have to do it myself...”
His face lit up like a Christmas tree and she smacked his shoulder, knowing exactly what was going through his mind.
“Fully clothed.”
A wicked grin curled on his lips. “I’ve no idea what you’re referring to. I’m a perfect gentleman.”
Yeah right.
“Just come on.” “Where are we going?” She dragged him to the couch and grabbed the remote, switching on the tv as she pulled him down to sit next to her. “You said a while back that you didn’t know what NCIS was. We’re gonna fix that.”
He protested but Emma ignored him, turning up the volume all the way as NCIS Season 1 episode 1 began playing on the screen.
The two of them sat there together for hours, their fingers entwined as they talked and watched. Later he would say that it was ‘A bloody waste of four hours.” But she knew he enjoyed it just as much as her.
By the end of the night, the two of them were the far from strangers. She was beginning to feel things for him that she didn’t even think she could feel anymore. And she found herself thanking her crappy kitchen appliances for breaking and forcing her to call a handyman. Because Killian Jones fixed a whole lot more than her sink. He fixed her heart.