pee.”
“Only if it’s someone with a kidney problem.” He pointed to the one below it. “This one?”
“Like darker pee.”
“You’re impossible.”
She met his gaze, and dammit if he didn’t feel it right down to his bones. “No, I’m not.”
“Yes, you are.” Impossible to work alongside and not want to—
“I like this shade,” she said, grabbing another strip altogether. “It’s bright and sunny.”
“All right.” He chunked his strip back into the slot.
“You wanted that one, didn’t you?” she asked.
“I don’t care. It’s not like I’m going to live there. I won’t even see it again once it’s sold.”
Shoot, had that sounded a little sad? Probably. But it wasn’t the house so much as the lady who’d resided there.
The guy behind the paint department’s counter programmed the codes and readied the cans to be put into the shaker.
“Let’s get brushes and stuff,” Raleigh said, touching her back as he led her to the aisle, a subconscious gesture that seemed so natural.
He filled his hands with a couple of those all-in-one roller kits. Brushes, gloves, rags, and tarps joined them in the cart. By the time they returned to the counter, their paint was ready.
He had the whole weekend open. It had been only a small fib that he was between projects. He’d called his next client and put him off for two weeks, knowing that he could likely lose the job. But the client said that Raleigh was worth the wait.
Mia charged everything, keeping the receipt to deduct from the account. He pushed the cart out to the parking lot. “Where are you parked?”
“Over there.” She assessed the stuff piled in the cart. “But it doesn’t have a lot of room in the trunk.”
“Convertibles usually don’t. We can pile everything into the trunk of my car.” He pushed the cart toward the right. “I could have a party in there.”
They probably looked like any other couple, preparing for a weekend of house maintenance. Mia walked at his side, her fingers resting lightly on the edge of the cart. As they neared his ‘Cuda, she stopped.
“I’ve seen this car.” Her narrowed eyes widened. “You drove by Grandma’s house the night she passed, didn’t you?”
“Yeah. I figured it might be my last chance to sit out on the deck. Process her being gone. But I saw that you and your parents were there, so obviously I nixed the idea.”
“It’s funny, but I thought of you when I saw this car.”
He unlocked the trunk, and they loaded everything in. Their fingers met as they both reached up to push the lid down. Both pulled away as though they’d been burned.
Shit. Way to act like an awkward teenager.
“Meet you at the house?” he asked.
“Sure. I bought some lunchmeat and sodas this morning. I wasn’t sure if you still didn’t drink, so I didn’t get any beer.”
“Soda’s fine. Water’s better.”
He was paranoid, but he also knew that alcoholism was genetic. His father had been one, and his father’s father, too, before choking to death on his own vomit. Raleigh wasn’t taking any chances.
He followed her through town to the beach, grinning as he watched her reach up and secure her floppy hat more than once. The convertible suited her. He wished he were sitting beside her.
They didn’t talk as they unloaded the trunk and made two trips to bring everything in. It was already warm, but a brisk breeze cooled things down considerably. He unwrapped one of the tarps, and she wordlessly took half and stretched it along the wall they were going to tackle first.
Raleigh tucked it up against the baseboard with his shoe. “Don’t be surprised if Cody comes by to help. I told him I wouldn’t be able to take him fishing, but I think he was just as excited about helping to paint as he was about catching fish.”
“He seems like a good kid.”
Raleigh felt a swell of pride, though he really had nothing to do with that. “Yeah, he is. I’m on him all the time, though, about his grades, keeping his nose clean. Don’t want him to end up like me.”
“You didn’t end up so bad.”
He met her gaze, seeing her teasing grin. “I quit high school to work full-time. Got my GED, but still. Didn’t even think about going to college, other than a course on high-performance-car engines. Then there’s the ex-con thing. I want better for him.”
“But you knew what you wanted to do. You love working on cars. I remember watching you at the garage. The way you’d be