“Remember when I said I could be annoying at times?” I laughed and stood up, crossed the room to the bags, and brought them back to the table. Putting them on the floor, I nudged them to her. “Go on. Open your prezzie.”
“I don’t wanna.” Faelan pushed out her lower lip and I laughed again. She was cute when she pouted.
“Aren’t you the least bit curious?”
“Oh, for sure. Dying of curiosity.” Faelan’s laugh was rich and warmed my gut, sending little tendrils of desire curling through me. “But then if I open it, I have to accept it, and something tells me a B&Q bag means a project, and a project means you’ll stick around longer than I had planned to have company today.”
I held a hand to my chest, and made puppy dog eyes, the picture of a wounded male.
“Are you telling me that you’re sick of my company? Already?”
“I should. Just because I suspect not many people tell you that.” Faelan smirked when I gave her a shite-eating grin. “I knew it. You’re the type of man people rarely say ‘no’ to, aren’t you?”
“That’s not true. Patients tell me ‘no’ all the time.” I laughed when she squinched her nose up and made a sound of disgust.
“You know what I mean. In your personal life.”
“I couldn’t say. I don’t have much of one.”
“Is that so?” Faelan toed the bag, and I knew I was getting closer to her opening them. “No lonely ladies waiting outside your door?”
“Nope. Oban would just chase them off. He’s very protective of me.”
Oban huffed from the couch and Faelan chuckled.
“What about you? I’m surprised you don’t have a line of men at your door.”
“Why?” Faelan asked, tilting her head to study me.
“Why? Because, for one, you’re drop-dead gorgeous. But past that, you’re clearly intelligent, caring, and capable of running your own business. It doesn’t appear that you’re after a partner for money, or frankly, to even complete any aspect of your life. You seem largely fulfilled, content with your work, and willing to take risks. All really great traits of a partner.”
Faelan’s mouth formed a tiny O of surprise.
“That’s quite the assessment, Dr. Carmichael.”
“First one’s free. Next time, I’ll have to charge you.”
Faelan’s laugh warmed me once more, and this time she did bend over and tug the handles of the shopping bag open. She jolted and looked up at me in surprise, before pulling out a can of paint.
“You bought me paint?” Faelan asked, incredulous.
“Aye, lass. We’re going to paint your living room. Today.”
“But … I can’t.” Faelan looked around her flat. “I haven’t planned anything. I don’t have paint brushes. What if I hate the color you picked?”
“I brought all the supplies. If you hate the color, I’ll goback and get another color. But you did mention a dark navy and I picked the blue that the paint guy recommended. He said it’s dark and dramatic but has some cool undertones that are really nice.”
“But I don’t even know why I said navy. It might look stupid. Or make the place look too small.” Faelan glanced around the room, stricken.
“It’s just paint. How about this? We’ll try one wall and see how you feel about it.”
“Just one wall?” Faelan gave me a look like I was offering to give her a haircut.
“Just one wall,” I confirmed. “It’s easy enough to cover up if you hate it.”
“Hmm. You know what? I’ll do it. This is a good step for me.” Faelan nodded her head sharply, like I was teaching her how to swim or something much more serious than painting a wall in her flat. Only then did I really understand how important this might be to her. I’d certainly heard the yearning in her voice when she’d mentioned never really settling down before, but the way she eyed the paint cans suspiciously and then gave herself a determined nod, as though it was okay to finally make a living space her own, made me want to understand her even more.
“It sounds like it. Shall we crack on?” I was ready to be standing up and out of that tiny chair I was certain would break under me at any sudden movement.
