“I’ll grab a towel and then we can inspect the house together.”
Not waiting for an answer, I raced into the downstairs bathroom. As I stared at my flushed face in the mirror and tried to calm my breathing, I gave myself a talking-to and said to quit what the heck was going on. But I couldn’t rid myself of the memory of his eyes raking over my body.
We traipsed around the two floors and the turret as he made notes on what needed repairing. I stared at his back, his large hands as he examined a door frame, and his cute butt encased in denim. I was struggling to breathe but covered it up with a cough, saying I had allergies.
After exchanging numbers, he said he’d drop the estimate around in a couple of days. And when he left, I didn’t move, watching the truck as he drove out of sight. I went inside and leaned on the door while rubbing the tattoo under my damp sweater. I couldn’t understand why I was so drawn to this man I’d met only this morning.
The next day I was bored with unpacking and ran my eyes over the walls. While Dray may be doing the repairs, I couldn’t afford to have him repaint the house or choose new light bulbs. So, I got myself to the hardware store, but as I drove, I kept looking for glimpses of Dray’s truck.
I stood in the paint aisle staring at approximately four hundred shades of white and wondered what the hell the difference was. They all looked like white to me.
“Are you planning to paint or just memorizing the color chart?”
I spun around. Dray was holding a bag of concrete.
“I’m trying to figure out which white I want. I don’t want it too white.” That didn’t make sense, but I was tripping over my words with him standing so close.
He set the bag down and came closer to study the paint chips I was clutching. “Which room?”
“The kitchen. The cabinets are this cream color, and I’m not sure if I should match, contrast, or burn the house down.”
He grinned. “Let’s not go with arson.” He removed a chip from my hand, and his fingers brushed over mine. Goosebumps marched over my skin, and I was glad of the jacket I was wearing. “This one. It won’t make the room feel cold.”
“How do you know that?”
“I’ve painted a lot of kitchens.”
We ended up walking every aisle. Dray explained the difference between wood screws and drywall screws. And he helped me pick out drawer pulls that wouldn't look terrible and talked me out of buying a circular saw when I admitted I didn't know how to use one.
“Stick with a handsaw for now. I’ll teach you power tools later.”
Later? He was planning on sticking around. Goody.
We both reached for the same package of sandpaper and our hands collided. I jerked mine back as if I’d touched a hot stove. Dray stared at me until I had to look away from those emerald eyes.
The hardware store owner grinned at us. "You two make a great team. Dray knows his stuff, and you ask good questions."
We walked out together, and I wanted to keep talking about paint colors and whatever else would keep him here, but rain was pelting down. Dray held up the plastic sheeting he bought—I didn’t remember what happened to his concrete—and we ran to my car, but when we reached it, we were both drenched and laughing.
“You’re always with me when I’m wet and dripping.” Hmmm, if I’d had time to think, I would have reworded that.
“Any time.” A smile tugged at the corner of his mouth.
Damn!
Water was sliding over my chin, and my shoes were waterlogged as I thanked him for helping me. He raised his voice above the rain, saying he had to get to a job site, and I couldn’t come up with an excuse for us to stay where we were and get even more wet. When I reached home, I discovered I’d been at the store for an hour. Time passed so quickly when I was with Dray.
I took a shower. The tattoo was warm under the spray, and I pressed my palm against it. Eight years and I still didn't understand it. Flames and scales were something out of a fantasy novel, and why was it reacting to my new surroundings? Shoot, I hadn’t bought any moisturizer.
In bed, I stared at the ceiling and thought about Dray's hands when he'd pointed at the paint samples. I remembered the calluses on his fingers and how he’d smiled when I pelted him with questions. This was ridiculous. What was happening to me?
FOUR
DRAY
My chest hurt from my ragged breathing, but I had to get outside town. I made it three miles with a whiny dragon clawing at my skin.
Turn back. Why did you leave?
