endeavor?” she said, and waited for him to wince.
He didn’t wince.
“A perfectly valid reason to ski,” he said placidly.
“As for speed, a gentle, well-worn slope suits me perfectly… Did you just shudder?”
“Yes. With delight because I know you’re only teasing.”
“You wish.”
“Yes, yes I do.” He nodded. “Frequently. Earnestly. Please tell me that your heart doesn’t beat a little faster at the sight of an isolated mountain range covered in a foot of fresh powder. How can you not look at it and immediately want to put tracks in it?”
“I have my comfort zone, you have yours. We can’t all be speed demons.”
“Floor’s done though,” he said with no little satisfaction, and indeed they’d stained their way to the door. “What do you think?”
“I think it looks beautiful.” She’d painted the walls in this room the first week she’d moved in, back when she’d had more hope of getting rid of the carpet smell without having to get rid of the carpet. The walls glowed ivory and she’d painted the window frame white. One day there would be drapes to cover that big bay window and they would be exactly what she wanted and she’d never get sick of looking at them. She’d bring the couch and the chairs in; she’d buy an old sideboard. Scatter soft blankets and cushions around within easy reach. “How much do I owe you for today’s materials?”
He fished a receipt from his back pocket and handed it to her. It was a receipt for a four gallon tin of walnut wood stain. “So who paid for the rest of it?”
“Oh, you mean the mops?”
“Yes. And the sanding machines and the sandpaper, and the tin of whatever it is that you’re going to put on the floor next.”
“That went on my brother’s account. It’s stuff we use all the time. It’s not specific to this job at all.”
“Unh huh,” she said dryly.
“Did I mention that this brother bought me my first set of pro skis? I didn’t have the money. He did. Did I mention that he wanted to expand the business a few years back, and I bought in?”
“You’re trying to sidetrack me with information that’s irrelevant.”
“Yes, yes I am.”
“I want that other receipt.”
He took the paint mop from her hand. “I’ll try and find it.”
“Try real hard. Meanwhile, would you like a chocolate éclair? I meant to offer earlier, during the afternoon break you didn’t take.”
“You bought me a treat?”
“I did.”
There was the kid in the candy shop again. “Let me clean this up,” he said. “I’ll meet you in the kitchen.”
“You want coffee with it?”
“If you hand me coffee, I will love you forever.”
“I bet you say that to all the baristas.”
“And you would be one hundred percent correct.”
No shame, just a smile and a view of him walking away, and, oh, she could get used to ogling that perfect rear end.
“Handsome man,” she murmured, as Claire lifted her arms towards her. “Is that what you’re thinking, baby? Want to play eat the spaghetti and flirt with the pretty man who flirts right back at you? Yes?”
Yes.
“I’m out of practice when it comes to flirting,” she said. “And I’m counting on you to weigh in when the going gets awkward.”
Her baby let forth with a string of incomprehensible encouragement.
“Perfect.” Yes. “That’s very helpful. Do that.”
*
It wasn’t any great desire for sweet pastry and custard that made Jett head round to the back door once he’d finished stowing his gear. It was his ever-growing interest in the woman who offered it. Slender to a fault and far more serious than he was used to, there was something about Mardie that made him want to know more. Even at school, there’d been something there, on his side at least.
He’d looked. And he’d liked what he’d seen.
He liked the way she moved – a pleasing mix of grace and economy. He liked that she worked hard for what she wanted and that she had goals for the future. This
He didn’t wince.
“A perfectly valid reason to ski,” he said placidly.
“As for speed, a gentle, well-worn slope suits me perfectly… Did you just shudder?”
“Yes. With delight because I know you’re only teasing.”
“You wish.”
“Yes, yes I do.” He nodded. “Frequently. Earnestly. Please tell me that your heart doesn’t beat a little faster at the sight of an isolated mountain range covered in a foot of fresh powder. How can you not look at it and immediately want to put tracks in it?”
“I have my comfort zone, you have yours. We can’t all be speed demons.”
“Floor’s done though,” he said with no little satisfaction, and indeed they’d stained their way to the door. “What do you think?”
“I think it looks beautiful.” She’d painted the walls in this room the first week she’d moved in, back when she’d had more hope of getting rid of the carpet smell without having to get rid of the carpet. The walls glowed ivory and she’d painted the window frame white. One day there would be drapes to cover that big bay window and they would be exactly what she wanted and she’d never get sick of looking at them. She’d bring the couch and the chairs in; she’d buy an old sideboard. Scatter soft blankets and cushions around within easy reach. “How much do I owe you for today’s materials?”
He fished a receipt from his back pocket and handed it to her. It was a receipt for a four gallon tin of walnut wood stain. “So who paid for the rest of it?”
“Oh, you mean the mops?”
“Yes. And the sanding machines and the sandpaper, and the tin of whatever it is that you’re going to put on the floor next.”
“That went on my brother’s account. It’s stuff we use all the time. It’s not specific to this job at all.”
“Unh huh,” she said dryly.
“Did I mention that this brother bought me my first set of pro skis? I didn’t have the money. He did. Did I mention that he wanted to expand the business a few years back, and I bought in?”
“You’re trying to sidetrack me with information that’s irrelevant.”
“Yes, yes I am.”
“I want that other receipt.”
He took the paint mop from her hand. “I’ll try and find it.”
“Try real hard. Meanwhile, would you like a chocolate éclair? I meant to offer earlier, during the afternoon break you didn’t take.”
“You bought me a treat?”
“I did.”
There was the kid in the candy shop again. “Let me clean this up,” he said. “I’ll meet you in the kitchen.”
“You want coffee with it?”
“If you hand me coffee, I will love you forever.”
“I bet you say that to all the baristas.”
“And you would be one hundred percent correct.”
No shame, just a smile and a view of him walking away, and, oh, she could get used to ogling that perfect rear end.
“Handsome man,” she murmured, as Claire lifted her arms towards her. “Is that what you’re thinking, baby? Want to play eat the spaghetti and flirt with the pretty man who flirts right back at you? Yes?”
Yes.
“I’m out of practice when it comes to flirting,” she said. “And I’m counting on you to weigh in when the going gets awkward.”
Her baby let forth with a string of incomprehensible encouragement.
“Perfect.” Yes. “That’s very helpful. Do that.”
*
It wasn’t any great desire for sweet pastry and custard that made Jett head round to the back door once he’d finished stowing his gear. It was his ever-growing interest in the woman who offered it. Slender to a fault and far more serious than he was used to, there was something about Mardie that made him want to know more. Even at school, there’d been something there, on his side at least.
He’d looked. And he’d liked what he’d seen.
He liked the way she moved – a pleasing mix of grace and economy. He liked that she worked hard for what she wanted and that she had goals for the future. This
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