When the Wind Chimes - Mary Ting Page 0,71

as I wanted this kiss, in the end, I would be the one left heartbroken.

My hand already coated with paint, I patted his face with a wet squelch. The tension shattered.

Lee widened his eyes and opened his mouth in surprise. Then he poked my sides, tickling me as he smothered his cheek wherever it could touch me.

“Lee.” I curled into myself, unable to stop laughing and he did the same.

We laughed for a good minute until the door opened.

“What’s going on?” said a sweet, sleepy voice.

I sat up to see Bridget rubbing her eyes, holding a stuffed unicorn.

“Papa? Kate?” She giggled, pointing at us.

“Bridget, I can explain.” Lee stood and almost fell on his knees when his foot slipped, but he caught himself.

Bridget laughed harder and so did I.

Lee continued, “I spilled paint and we fell. So you have to be very careful, too.”

Lee was trying to make our mess into a learning lesson, but it wasn’t working. Bridget couldn’t stop laughing, turning her eyes on me, to Lee, and then sweeping over the floor. Her mouth dropped open with a small gasp.

The tile was layered with colors and our clothes were a gaudy acrylic patchwork. We’d made a mess that was going to take forever to clean up.

“Bridget, go to your room,” Lee’s said with a stern tone. “I’ll stop by to tuck you in after I help Kate clean up.”

“Okay,” Bridget sang and left.

Lee took off his shirt and looked at me.

I narrowed my eyes, heat fizzing through my blood as I tried not to stare at his toned, smooth chest. Tried not to remember my first day here, when I had touched those warm, sculpted muscles. The familiar warmth tingled, so I shifted my gaze to his hands.

I didn’t know if he was trying to imply we should get naked, but I didn’t think he would be that bold. He had been a perfect gentleman thus far. Well, until he’d smeared paint on me.

“I’m not taking off my shirt. You’re not expecting—”

He blushed. “I didn’t ask you to, Kate. I’m going to turn around. Take them off and go wash up. I’ll start cleaning up the mess.”

Lee turned his back to me, facing the standing easels, patiently waiting. Taking clothes off that were stuck with wet paint on them was harder than taking off wet jeans. Finally, my shirt and pants thudded behind him.

“I’m done, but give me a second.”

“Kate?” Lee’s voice went from playful to tender.

“Yes?”

“There’s a charity event tomorrow night. We raise money for cancer research. I thought you might want to go. I mean, would you like to go?”

Was he asking me on a date?

I glanced at the panting Roselyn had painted of Bridget when she was about two years, and said, “Yes. Thank you for asking me, but what about Bridget?”

He craned his neck to the side. “I could hire someone.”

I contemplated what he said, but I had an idea. “No, you don’t need to. Abby can watch her. Bridget would love that, and so would Tyler.”

“Great. I’ll pick you up at six.” He paused and added, “It’ll be easier. That way I can drop off Bridget.”

That made sense, but the way he said it confused me, like he was reassuring me that it was a practical matter. I didn’t know if this was a date or if he was being nice.

I picked up my clothes and approached closer, his back still to me. “Sure. What do I wear?”

“You can wear what you’re wearing now.”

I laughed inwardly and I lightly smacked his back. When he tried to turn, I poked his back.

“No. You stay right there, mister,” I said with a stern voice, but then I snickered softly.

His body shook with laughter. “Go take your shower.”

If we were a couple, we would be showering together.

“I might take a while. You got paint in my hair,” I ground out playfully and dropped my clothes to the side of him.

Lee’s laugh echoed in the room. Then he said, “Wear a cocktail dress.”

Chapter Twenty-Seven — Charity Gala

“Kate, you look beautiful. Wait ‘til he sees you.” Abby zipped up the back of my black strapless dress in her bathroom.

“Thank you. I love your dress, and I think I should keep it.” I posed with a flash of my teeth in the mirror.

I hadn’t had time to shop for a dress, so I’d borrowed one of Abby’s. Abby didn’t have many to choose from. She rarely went to galas where she had to wear fancy dresses, so I