her suit was missing. I swallowed hard at the sight of all that honeyed skin and almost dropped half the painting supplies.
She jumped and offered to help me. I barely noticed surrendering two cans of paint because I was staring at the prettiest bikini top that ever existed. My mind went into overdrive imagining what lay beneath.
She lifted a can. “What are you doing with all of this?”
With effort, I met her gaze. My head was fuzzy, and my ears were ringing. It was like her chest had a gravitational pull on my eyes. They wanted to drift down again. Sweat coated my forehead. I hoped my teeth weren’t getting longer. Her expectant gaze had me scrambling to recall what she’d asked. The supplies. Right.
“The outside needs painting, too. I thought I’d start on it while the paint dried in there.”
My voice was rough with need, and I hoped she wouldn’t notice. My worry broke my concentration, and I looked down. It wasn’t that I was a sex-starved pervert—I mean, I was that too—but there was more to this pull than that. Every new inch I saw, every fact I discovered about her past, it all just made me crave more. More Michelle. More time together. More of a relationship than what we had now. And, if I wanted more, I needed to play it cooler than I was. Just like Jim had said.
I turned away and walked to the far corner of the porch. With each step I focused on my breathing and my pulse, trying to calm and center myself. Then, the aroma of fresh cookies hit me, bringing back Jim’s reference from the night before. I wanted her cookies badly...damn it. Steady and cool, I reminded myself as I slowly breathed in and out.
“Is the apartment almost done?” she asked from behind me. She set the cans next to the pile of supplies I made.
When I turned around, I felt more like myself and easily maintained eye contact.
“I still need to work on some plumbing, but it’s close. Want to see it?”
While she hadn’t blinked at my prior eye-groping, my steady, respectful gaze made her nervous.
“That’s okay,” she said.
I didn’t want her to run away.
“I could actually use your input on the colors in the bathroom. Nana bought a variety of cans on clearance, and I’m down to a yellow and a grey.”
She nodded, and I led her to her future new apartment. I watched her study the large, open living room and kitchen. Her gaze slid over the neutral wall colors, the roughed-in kitchen cabinets, and the large, earth-toned tiles. She looked impressed, which made it easier to breathe.
“Wow. This looks great.”
“I’m glad you like it,” I said. “Let me show you the bathroom.”
I led her down the short hallway to the bathroom. The toilet was sitting outside the door, waiting to be installed.
“We can’t go in,” I said, stopping by the toilet. “The grout is still wet, but you can see the colors in the tile from here.”
She moved to peek in, her hair brushing over her shoulder and knocking the molding I’d set against the frame. I reached out and grabbed it before it fell. Something about my reaction scared her, though. The sour scent of her fear filled the air, and she shuddered.
“Don’t,” I said hoarsely.
She looked up at me with wide eyes.
“You are the one person who will never have to fear me.”
Fear turned to confusion.
“I’m sorry I kneed you,” she said.
I was sorrier that I’d scared her enough to do it. Reaching out, I gently touched her cheek, feathering my fingertips over her skin from temple to jaw. Her pulse jumped, and the sweet smell of her interest in me filled the air.
“I’m sorry I scared you,” I said, moving closer.
Her gaze went to my lips, an invitation if I ever saw one. The hitch of her breath as her gaze met mine was the confirmation I needed. I moved in.
“And I’m sorry I missed it,” Jim said from the living room, making her jump.
I dropped my hand and glanced over her shoulder at Jim. Michelle put some distance between us and gave the bathroom one more look.
“The yellow won’t work, but the grey might. Too bad you didn’t have a blue-grey to match the flecking in the tile.”
“Thank you,” I said. If she wanted blue-grey, I’d buy some.
She nodded and started toward the living room where Jim stood watching us.