Geoff followed Cecilia down her hallway at a bit of a distance. He liked watching her walk, her slender legs nicely showcased by her denim shorts. She glanced over her shoulder, caught him watching her, and gave him a lo
ok. Totally unrepentant, he grinned back at her.
The room she led him into was small, no more than ten by ten. She had taken out all the furniture, if there had been any to start with. The windows and baseboards had all been carefully outlined with blue masking tape. Plastic sheeting covered the wood floor. A bucket of paint sat in the center of the room next to a paint tray, a couple of rollers and some brushes in assorted sizes. “Looks like you know what you’re doing.”
“I’ve done a lot of painting. I can’t afford to hire someone to do something I’m perfectly capable of doing myself. Eric offered to help next weekend, but this room’s so small, it won’t really take long. If there’s anything else you would rather be doing, I can handle this alone.”
“Nope. There’s not a thing I would rather be doing than painting this room.”
“You expect me to believe that?”
“Okay, maybe there is one thing I’d rather be doing. But since you’re busy in here, I suppose that will have to wait.”
He liked it when she gave him those dryly chiding looks. Which must be why he kept doing or saying things to earn them. “So what color are we painting?” he asked before she could come up with a response to his entendre. “The same off white that’s in here now?”
“No.” She bent to remove the lid from the can, revealing the pale green paint inside.
Not quite a pastel, he decided. More of a soft, moss green. “Nice.”
“I was thinking this would be a good color for a…well, for a nursery. I like something different than the usual pinks, blues and yellows.”
“A nursery.” Geoff reached up to massage the back of his neck as he looked around the room again from this new perspective. “Uh, yeah, green’s nice.”
She seemed to be staring rather fiercely at the paint. “I know I’m getting a little ahead of myself, but the room needs to be painted, anyway, and this is a color that will work just as well in a guest room if we don’t—well, if our plans don’t work out. If they do, I thought I would use light maple woods with green, butterscotch and cream accents for the nursery.”
“I would have thought you’d prefer bold, primary colors.”
“Because of the rest of my house, you mean? I admit, I do have a weakness for bold colors, but I think a nursery should be relaxing. Peaceful. And the earthy colors I have in mind should create that effect.” She straightened abruptly. “Not that you’re at all interested in my decorating plans. Really, Geoff, if you would rather go ride your motorcycle, I—”
“Cecilia.” He rested a hand on her arm. “I’m interested. Let me help.”
Her smile was tentative. “I’d like that.”
Brushing a kiss across her lips, he drew back and glanced again around the room, picturing a maple crib against the far wall. “Where do we start?”
Cecilia picked up a paint roller and held it out to him. “That paint goes on these walls. It’s a fairly simple process. Try not to get it on your clothes.”
It was fairly simple, actually. And unexpectedly pleasant. Working side by side with Cecilia, rolling paint on the walls of the room that might one day hold their child. Sharing warm smiles, talking about inconsequential matters. Stopping for the occasional stolen kiss.
It was nice. Almost…domestic, he thought, and promptly dropped the paintbrush he had been wielding for a few finishing touches. Paint splattered his jeans and his right boot, then puddled beneath the brush on the plastic sheeting. “Great.”
“Oh, my. You made a mess.” Cecilia was obviously making an effort not to laugh at him.
“Yes, I did.”
“Fortunately, the paint washes off with soap and water. I don’t think it will stain your jeans if you launder them quickly.”
“What about skin? Does it wash off skin with soap and water?”
“Yes. Why? Did you get paint on your—Geoff!” She stared in disbelief at the paint he had just smeared on her arm with his fingertip. “Why did you do that?”
“Call it an impulse.” It must have been the same impulse that made him reach out and place a dot of paint on the tip of her very cute nose.
She reached up to slap his hand. “Have you lost your mind?”
“Sorry.” He rested a hand on her cheek. Since he had just deliberately squeezed the bristles of the wet paintbrush, he left a perfect green print on her smooth skin. “Sometimes I just can’t help myself.”
Her chocolate-brown eyes were huge. “Um, did you just leave paint on my face?”