“I don’t even know where to start.” Faelan turned, hands on hips, and studied the wall. “I’ve never done this before.”
“Luckily, there’s not a steep learning curve.” Digging in the bag, I pulled out a roll of tape. “We start here.”
“Tape?” Faelan shot me a confused look.
“We tape the edges. So those pretty baseboards of yours don’t get dirty. And around outlets. And windowsills. Got it?”
“Ahh, I see. What else do I need to know?”
“Cover these wood floors. There’s a plastic sheet in the bag. We’ll start there. You’ll be a pro in no time.”
“We’ll see about that.” Faelan dug in the bag and then paused to look up at me. “Thanks. This is really sweet of you.”
I’m not sure why, but a compliment coming from her made me feel like a million bucks. I got the impression she wasn’t used to giving them out very often, let alone sharing her space or home improvement projects with anyone else.
“And most importantly?”
“Aye?” Faelan paused as she was pulling out a strip of paint.
“Don’t wear anything you don’t want to get paint on.”
“Oh.” Faelan glanced down at the shirt she was wearing.My shirt. “I’ll just go change.”
I smiled the entire time she was in the bedroom.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Faelan
Iloved the paint.
Lovedit.
I loved the process of it, the taping of all the wood, the careful application, the roller brushes. We even ended up painting the ceiling, and what I had worried might end up looking dark and gloomy ended up looking charming. The navy managed to pop the gorgeous undertones in my floors and kitchen cupboards, and I could already see how a cool rug and some funky art on the walls would make this space much more livable and interesting.
A home, really.
“I can’t believe how different it looks,” I exclaimed, hands on my hips, surveying our work.
“As you’ve said now. For the third time.” Luch laughedat me from where he hammered a paint lid back onto the can.
We’d talked. The entire time. In fact, I couldn’t remember the last time I’d talked so much with one person before. As if in mutual agreement, we stuck to easy topics—favorite concerts, best meals, recent books we’d read. But I was finding Dr. Carmichael to be a surprisingly interesting companion. His interests were varied, he read widely, and he asked questions when he didn’t know the answer to something.
Which made it all that much harder to try and stop thinking about our kisses the day before. Or how his touch had rocketed me over the edge into one of the easiest orgasms I’d ever had. It would be embarrassing, except Luch had given me no reason to feel embarrassed, and since he hadn’t tried to touch or kiss me since I’d told him we wouldn’t be doing any ofthatanymore, he’d respected my boundaries.
Which, if I had to admit, I was now finding a bit annoying. I was justsohappy. I had a place to call my own, and even though it seemed silly, the coat of paint drastically changed my view on what I could do with my own space. I was proud of what we’d achieved here today. Proud enough that I wanted to reward Luch for all his help.
Except I’d already drawn the line in the sand about no more kissing. So would I have to be the one to cross it? Uncertain of how to proceed, or what, exactly, I wanted … I took my time packing up the supplies.
Dinner.
I could ask him to dinner. Feeding the man seemed an appropriate way to thank him for helping me today.
“Hey—”
“Can I take you to dinner? It’s been a long day. Fancy a bite at the pub?”
Damn it. He’d beaten me to it.
