Page 13 of Tangled in Temptation

“She’d better be,” I muttered.

“I’ve got it,” he said. “Go ahead.”

“Thanks.”

I pulled into Catherine’s driveway, not really understanding what I was doing there at all. There was just a need within me that I couldn’t ignore. The shop door stood open, with bright lights on, revealing Catherine engrossed in some project. As I stepped out of my car, she looked up, surprise flashing across her face.

I walked by the side of the house toward the back where the shop was at. She had on gloves and a mask, which she pulled down as she took off her gloves.

“Timothy?” she said, wiping her hands on a rag. “What’s wrong? Is Paisley okay?”

I fumbled for an excuse, my mind racing to concoct a reason for my unannounced visit. “Paisley is fine. I was coming to collect on a favor.”

Catherine laughed. “A favor? What are you talking about?”

I tried to look casual. I was having a hard time doing so because I was so incredibly attracted to her. Just seeing her again was making my heart beat a little faster. “I’ve got a charity event in the city in two weeks. I need a date. Since I was your date at your ex’s wedding, I was thinking you owed me one.”

Catherine’s laughter bubbled up again, and for a moment, the tension that had been strangling us both seemed to loosen. “You want me to be your date to a fancy event?”

I shrugged, trying to play it cool. “Why not? I can’t think of anyone else I’d rather spend a bland evening with.”

Her eyes widened in amusement. “Bland evening? You sure know how to sell it.”

I couldn’t help but smile at the return to a more familiar banter. “I aim to please.”

She looked down at her work clothes that were stained with paint and stain. “You do realize I’m not exactly a fancy gala kind of person, right?”

“But I’ve seen how well you can clean up.” I grinned.

She laughed again. “You sure know how to flatter a girl.”

Catherine walked toward the garage fridge. “You want a drink while you’re here, Mr. Smooth Talker?”

I nodded, grateful for the distraction. “Sure, whatever you’ve got.”

She pulled out a couple of cold White Claws and handed one to me. I took a moment to look around her garage. Tools hung neatly on the wall with several workbenches around the area. She had only recently moved in but was already making good progress in making it hers.

I took a sip, feeling the cool liquid slide down my throat. “So what are you working on?” I asked, genuinely curious.

“The kitchen cabinet doors,” she said. “I’m sanding them down and staining them in a darker color.”

I could seriously listen to her talk all day. I loved the ways she talked about her work. She was so passionate about it, so in control. She had plans, and she took steps to make it all work out. Her life was so controlled compared to the chaos that ruled my own life.

“Well, I’m sure they’re going to turn out fantastic,” I said, leaning back against one of the workbenches. I tried to keep my tone light and casual, despite the whirlwind of thoughts running through my head. “After all, I’ve seen the work you can do.”

“Thank you. It’s going to be a big project. Not nearly as big as your house, but there’s plenty to do.”

“I have no doubt it’s going to be amazing.”

“How are things with Paisley and Regina?”

I sighed, my shoulders slumping involuntarily. “Complicated, to say the least. Regina went to NYC. She’ll be going back to Germany soon. It cuts my visit with Paisley short by several weeks.”

Catherine’s expression softened, a hint of sadness flickering in her eyes. “I’m sorry, Timothy. I know you were looking forward to spending more time with her.”

“Yeah,” I muttered, looking down at my feet. “But I’m not her dad, so there’s not much I can do.”

“It seems so unfair,” she said. “I know Paisley wants to be here with you.”