“Looks good, guys.”
“Quit your yacking, Mark, and get to work.” The organizer tossed a paintbrush up, and Mark snatched it out of the air.
“Yes, sir.” Mark made an I’m-in-trouble-now face at Olivia. Allie scooted over to make room for him. He placed his hand on her hip and reached around to dip his brush in the paint bucket. She let out a squeak and Mark gave her a little squeeze.
“Real cool,” whispered Olivia, mocking her. She gave Allie ayou’re hopelesseye roll.
Yeah—pretty much.
Mark straightened up at the same time Allie dropped her arm, and she managed to paint his elbow. She laughed at his astonished face. “Sorry.” Mark flicked his brush at her, splattering her shirt.
“Hey!”
“Oops,” he said, with an innocent lift of his shoulders.
Allie lifted an eyebrow in challenge and her gaze dropped to his belly. She swiped at him. Mark spun out of the way and in a blur of ninja-like moves knocked her brush to the planks and left a brown stripe down her arm and across her chin. Allie could hardly believe what had just happened.
Mark folded his arms, making his muscles look all that much bigger. “Not bad.”
Allie sputtered, “How’d you do that?”
“Slade McCoy.” He pointed to his chest. “Remember?”
Just to his side, Olivia brandished her paintbrush and a wicked gleam in her eye.
Allie bit back her smile. “I surrender.” She put up her hands just as Olivia made a large Z on Mark’s back.
Whipping around, he painted her cheeks and one arm while she giggled uncontrollably—pleased as punch to have Mark’s attention. He spun and got Allie’s hip too.
“What was that for?” Allie asked in mock astonishment.
“Conspiring against me.”
Still laughing, Olivia put out her fist. “Totally worth it.”
Allie fist-bumped her. “Agreed.”
Mark lifted the paint can and one half of his mouth in a crooked grin that had Allie gripping Olivia’s arm.
“Truce. Truce.” Olivia caved on the spot.
Mark’s focus turned to Allie.
“Me too.” She laughed.
He set the paint can down with a leery look. “I’m not quite sure I trust you two.”
They giggled conspiratorially but didn’t comment.
“Hey up there,” called a photographer. “Smile!”
They repositioned themselves for the photograph and Mark’s arm draped across Allie’s shoulder. She leaned into him, appreciating his solidness and sexiness and lighthearted fun. She wouldn’t think an A-list actor would spend his Saturday afternoon painting over graffiti with a bunch of teenagers, and yet here he was, all strong and happy and like a dream.
The photographer snapped the picture and waved to say he was done. Allie tipped her head up to look at Mark. “You’re not what I expected.” “Is that your way of saying I’m shorter in person?”
She put her hand on his chest. “If anything, you’re a bigger man, Mark.” Mark brushed his fingers across her cheek.
“If you don’t get to work, I’m going to have to separate you two,” yelled the organizer. His tone was half-serious, half-joking, but Allie suspected he would follow through with the threat.
