I shouldn’t have gotten so revved up over a random waitress thinking we’re together. It was a natural assumption really.
And it’s my baggage blowing it up into more.
I push my thoughts aside and focus on what I’m supposed to be doing.
I do my best not to think about Margot, all long legs and miles of trouble.
Bad, bad idea.
I’m still brooding like the moody sack of ice I am when I meet her and the kids in the paint section. They’re chattering excitedly as she looks up and taps her fingers against a can on the shelf.
“What do you think?” she asks.
“Broad question. Generally, I think a lot.”
She slides me an unimpressed look as Daniel groans and covers his face.
“Smart-ass,” she says. “Do they start teaching Dad jokes at the hospital when your kids are born or does it just come from getting old?”
“Uploaded to my brain the day I signed their birth certificates,” I say. “Like changing a lightbulb.”
She laughs.
“You’re so cringe,” she mutters, chewing her lip as she moves along the aisle. “But I figured I’d get some paint to freshen up the house while we’re here. I’ve already got a power sander.”
That’ll definitely come in handy, considering the walls could use some light touch-up and a fresh coat or two in places.
“Sure. We can probably get a couple rooms done.”
“What color do you think? More beige maybe? Organic style’s pretty in.” She tilts her head adorably as she thinks, sucking at her lip.
“I like pink. The light creamy one,” Sophie says.
Margot nods seriously. “So do I. An accent wall maybe?”
“What about green?” I venture, eyeing the dark green-black colors. “It’ll bring the forest inside.”
“Mmm, the dark ones are very moody. But a nice viridian green overlooking the lake… that might look cool. We could even throw some red in to pop with the fall colors and winter sunsets.” She pulls out her phone. “I took a couple pictures earlier. I wish I’d taken more. There’s this sweet app that simulates colors and styles on real rooms. It’s a game changer for home renovations. You upload some pics and it’ll take the options and put them into a full 3D model, like walking around your new house. Here, let me find it.”
My spine locks.
It’s like some asshole just punched me and I’m retraining my lungs how to breathe.
“Souseful,” she says, tapping her phone and flicking through her apps.
“No,” I spit.
She glances up, surprised at my sharp tone.
Fuck, I’m giving too much away.
But I know it’s hardly as useful as she thinks.
“Come again?” Her eyebrows draw together in confusion.
I force my throat to relax a little.
“I just mean I’ve seen them before,” I rush out. “Yeah, it might be useful, but the AI engines give you too many options and not enough good ones. Why don’t you get a real opinion from a contractor? If Sully Bay doesn’t have an interior designer, surely there’s one somewhere down in Bar Harbor.”
