“Ace?”
“Up here,” I shout over my shoulder. I use the back of my hand to push my hair out of my face. I’m almost done painting the master bedroom, and I’m a mess. I’m not clumsy, I’m naturally athletic and have great reflexes. Yet I still managed to put my hand on a freshly painted wall and drop the paint brush not once but twice, resulting in paint splattering all over me.
“What are you doing?” Gilbert asks as he walks into the room.
“Painting,” I say, widening my eyes. “Duh.”
Gil chuckles. “I know, but, uh, why?”
“I didn’t like the color before. And because I have the next seven days off of work and need something to do during the day.”
“You don’t have to work?”
“Nope.” I carefully slide the paintbrush along the crown molding and step down the ladder. “I haven’t taken a vacation in a few years and HR isn’t happy about that.”
Gil tips his head. “I don’t get it.”
“I don’t either,” I say with a wry smile. “You’d think they’d be happy to have a dedicated employee, but nope.” Rolling my eyes, I set the paint brush down and look at my work. “Though I guess I get it. It’s a stressful job.”
“Which makes it even more important you take our advice and go out and relax.”
“I am taking your advice. I’m going out with a friend tonight.”
“A friend?”
I raise an eyebrow. “Don’t act too shocked.”
“You’ve never mentioned any friends before.”
“She works with me.”
Gil carefully steps over the tarp and looks around the room. “I like this color. It’s calming, which is weird.”
“It’s not weird. There’s been research done on the subject, and color can impact your mood.” I move the ladder, dip my paintbrush, and climb back up. The others shuffle in, crowding around Gilbert. I get the last bit of paint down and get off the ladder, realizing this is the first time all my guys are in my bedroom. Too bad I piled shit on the bed in order to paint this damn wall.
“Hasan,” I start. “Want to go out on the town tonight?”
He’s a little taken aback, crossing his big arms over his muscular chest. “If you want me to, I will.”
I frown. “If you don’t want to go out, then don’t.”
“No, I do want to. I just…” He trails off, shaking his head. “I have to act human.”
I let out a laugh. “You do, and you’ll be great at it.” I give him a smile. “A friend from work wants to go out for drinks. We’ll have fun.”
He returns my smile. “As long as I’m with you, I will.”
I wipe my hands on my pants—they’re stained anyway—and put the lid on the can of paint. Picking up the paint tray and the brushes, I carry them downstairs, putting them in the kitchen sink. I turn on the faucet to rinse things out, and look over my shoulder as I clean.
“I have stuff ready for dinner. I just have to heat it up.” I look past Thomas, finding Jacques standing by the kitchen table, looking down at the bowl I used for the banishing spell. He can tell I did the spell, and is probably wondering why now.
Once the paint is cleaned up, I try to scrape as much as I can off my hands, preheat the oven, and go onto the porch where Jacques is.
“Hey,” I say, clicking the door shut behind me.
“Hey,” he says back, smiling. My heart does a weird lurch thing in my chest, and my entire body longs to go to him, to have his arms wrap around me.
“How’d you sleep? Have any more sex dreams about me?”
