Total pages in book: 133
Estimated words: 130102 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 651(@200wpm)___ 520(@250wpm)___ 434(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 130102 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 651(@200wpm)___ 520(@250wpm)___ 434(@300wpm)
He turned and she was leaning a curvy hip against the door frame, her fingers wrapped around a half-empty bottle of water.
“Just one can for now.”
Right. Just one can for now.
Easier said than done.
He grabbed one of the other cans. He had a fifty-fifty chance of getting it wrong.
“No, not that one. The Antique Rose.”
And, of course, he picked the wrong one. For fuck’s sake.
He froze when she closed in behind him, placed her hand on his back, using him for balance as she leaned over and snagged the can she wanted.
He hurried to put down the wrong one and took the right one from her. “Got it.”
“I’ll bring your water.” She followed him out of the laundry room and back to the front room.
When they got there, she said, “Open the can, please, and I’ll get it stirred.”
As he used a screwdriver she’d handed him to pop the lid, he took a closer look at where the words Antique Rose were written.
He now recognized the Я. Rose must begin with an Я.
He took a picture of the two words in his mind and silently repeated the paint color name over and over to help recognize it the next time.
Unfortunately, he knew it wouldn’t stick.
It never did.
Once the paint was stirred and poured into paint trays, she handed him a brush to work on the edges and corners and she grabbed a roller.
Then they got to work.
Chapter Five
After a few minutes of stretched silence, except for the music, she asked, “You don’t speak much, do you?”
“When I got somethin’ to say.”
A man of few words.
“Which isn’t often.” A shame since his honey-coated gravelly voice needed to be shared with the world.
She certainly would like to hear more of it. She’d like to hear more about him. She’d never been so curious about a man before.
He seemed to keep himself pretty closed up. While they had prepped earlier, she had chatted on and on. Besides a few grunts here and there, he really hadn’t responded to much.
Not that she had talked about anything important. She had blathered on about television shows, movies, music. Things of general interest.
He jerked one shoulder up slightly. “Some people talk too much.”
She laughed. “Like me. I bet you tuned me out after the first five minutes. I have a bad habit of talking to anyone, even when I shouldn’t. But, to be honest, I talk to myself the most.”
“Same. Just not out loud.”
“That’s probably for the best. I bet some people think I’m crazy when I’m having a whole conversation with myself. But it helps me concentrate, especially if I’m doing a task.”
“Like paintin’.”
She nodded. “Like painting.” And to keep her mind from going back to her reaction—and his—when she reached out and stroked the soft ends of his hair.
She shouldn’t have done it. It was inappropriate and she wouldn’t want anyone touching her hair without asking first.
Not even after they asked, either.
The only one who she allowed to touch her hair were her girls, of course, and her hairdresser, Teddy from Manes on Main.
If a man reached out and touched her like that, he’d probably regret it.
While she’d apologized to Shawn, she still was embarrassed she did it.
Even so, when his breath had stilled, so had hers. When his heart thumped under her fingertips, so had hers.
The thrill that shot through her when she felt the soft ends, the urge to run her fingers through the complete length...
So very inappropriate.
She once again reminded herself of his age. And her own. She was tempted to ask him how old he was but, really, it wouldn’t matter.
It wasn’t just his age, but the fact he belonged to a biker gang. She had daughters, was a homeowner, and had a job at the elementary school. Even if he wasn’t too young for her, he was not the type of man she should be interested in.
But he was pretty to look at. No doubt.
No matter what, she needed to keep her interest limited to looking. Not touching, tasting, or whatever else about him was tempting her.
She shook herself mentally.
It had been a knee-jerk reaction when she made the offer to him about painting. There was no real need to paint the house right now, especially when funds were tight with Maddie in college and Josie on her way after graduation.
She sighed at how Shawn had made her weak like a hormonal teenager. If she started giggling and winding and unwinding her hair around her finger while batting her eyelashes at him, she was going to smack herself in the face.
His “Okay?” made her jump.
“Yes, thank you. I’m fine. I’m just thinking about the chili.” And if you believe that, I have a bridge to sell you...
“Smells good.”
So did he when he first walked through the door. Now she could smell nothing but fresh paint, so she had no idea how he smelled her chili.