“There’s nothing left for you to do tonight,” his deep voice rumbles through me as he invades my personal space. “Why don’t you get some sleep and let me finish up?”
“I can’t,” I test my fortitude by meeting his eyes at this close proximity. My heart races as I stare, awed by the hints of color swirling in his gray eyes. They’re even more vibrant at night, making them both breathtaking and dizzying. I feel like I’m looking into a kaleidoscope while falling off a tall building. “There’s so much to do here, and it’s not fair...”
“Camilla, you’ve done all you can tonight. You boxed up the old fixtures and helped me spread the tarps.”
“Yeah, but it’s already eleven o’clock.” I yawn again. “And you haven’t even started priming.” I take a peek at the time. “It’s too late. Come back tomorrow.”
“Don’t be ridiculous. I have plenty of energy.” He assures me.
“You need your sleep. This is the third night in a row that you’ve come. You have work in the morning.”
He chuckles. The deep sound is sexy. “I’m happy to be here, and I don’t need much sleep. I also have a late start to my days. Unlike you.”
“That’s not true. You were here early the other morning.”
“That was an exception. I’m a big boy, Camilla.” He stands inches away and looks down at me. I’m taken by the sheer size of him. He’s so large and powerful. I’m not sure how tall he is, but Miguel was six feet, and Stone is definitely taller and wider. Miguel was like a large baby. Stone is defined and chiseled. He’s all man. “I’ll be fine.” He smiles. “I promise.” He reaches out and tucks a piece of hair behind my ear. “Go to sleep.”
Finally, I give in and nod. I refuse to tell him that I want to stay because I like watching him and am almost enjoying his company.
I unlock the door and find the priming in the kitchen is finished. Before I went to bed, he promised to have it knocked out by the morning. Moving into the large outer room, I find it too has been primed. Stone was good to his word.
In the middle of the room, a napkin sits on a log, held in place by a trimming paintbrush. On it is a handwritten note.
Hope this gets me out of the dog house. If you picked your color, I’ll buy the paint and get started after work.
P.S. If you go with pink, I’ll think of the contrast of that sexy pink thong against your mocha skin. If you need help choosing a color, I’ll be happy to give it. Especially if it’s for a sexy little thong.
At your service,
Stone Flint
At my service!I crumple the note and stuff it into my pocket. I’m glad I found it before Stone arrived. My cheeks are burning red hot, and I don’t need him to see me blush. I’m not sure how I feel about his offer to consult with me on my fashion choices. Then again, he does know how to make a T-shirt and ripped jeans work.
A lump forms in the back of my throat as I think about him imagining me in the thong. So freaking embarrassing. At least he was cool about it when he peeled it off my shirt. He didn’t make me feel stupid. He played it off, or at least tried to. Is that his motivation in helping me “free of charge”? Is he looking for me to pay him in physical currency? That can only end badly.
Why on earth did I answer the door in my pajamas? That may have given Stone the wrong idea about me. It definitely gave him thoughts he shouldn’t be having.
Or does he think I’m easy prey for a good-looking man because of my size? Whatever he’s thinking, I’m not buying his good guy act anymore. No one spends their night painting forsomeone they can barely tolerate without the promise of money or sex.
Jerk.
I see through him now. Enough about Mr. Stone Flint. He doesn’t deserve to live rent-free in my head. I pack up the chocolate lasagna and mini carrot cakes I made last night and head over to The Mummy’s Tomb.
Chapter 11
