Paradise Valley (Virgin River #7)(109)

Dan was no longer unsure of how he felt about her. Cheryl was no longer suspicious of Dan’s motives.

He draped an arm along the back of the park bench while he talked to her. “So, Rick started working for Paul Haggerty, and Haggerty told me to keep him with me, to train him, keep an eye on him, make sure he didn’t take on too much. Boy, if Rick knew Paul was looking out for him that way, it might piss him off. He’s a lot better, but he’s still got that edge of pride, you know?”

“How’s he doing on the job?” Cheryl asked.

“It’s only been a few days and he’s holding up pretty good. If he didn’t have a new prosthesis, I’d have him hauling trash. But I’m teaching him drywall and texturing. I figure anyone can paint.”

“Anyone but me,” she laughed. “There must be a trick to it. I tried to paint my bedroom where I’m staying. It looks like I went after the walls with a scouring pad and dirty white paint.”

“Really? How’d you like me to fix that up for you?” he asked.

“No, thanks. But I wouldn’t mind if you told me the secret.”

“No secret, kiddo. Good brushes, good paint on a clean wall and a primer if the wall isn’t going to hold the paint—like if you stripped off wallpaper and there was some backing left. People run into trouble when they buy the cheap stuff or don’t prime a wall that needs it. I can show you how to use masking tape and caulk to make a straight line.” He ran a knuckle along her cheek. “Why don’t we fix it up together. I’ll give you some tips so you never need me for painting again.”

“You’re trying to tempt me into letting you get closer into my life,” she said with a laugh. “Tempting me with paint.”

He grinned at her. “No. I’m looking for an invitation to your bedroom.”

“There are five women living in that house. If you’re ever in that bedroom, it’ll be for painting.”

“Would you be embarrassed?” he asked her, lifting his eyebrows.

“You might be attacked. Only one of the five has had a man in her life in the last millennium. And it wasn’t me.”

“Cheryl, I don’t want to scare you, but I think maybe you have a man in your life now. You just haven’t had sex. That I know of,” he added with a shrug.

She laughed at him. “What have I done, getting mixed up with you?”

“Come on, it’s been nice. Admit it,” he said, leaning toward her and brushing his lips against hers. “Nice. Come on.”

“Nice,” she said. “But you know I don’t want to get into anything complicated.”

“Oh, Jesus, Cheryl, I’m sorry—I didn’t mean to mislead you. I didn’t have anything complicated in mind…” Then he smiled.

“You’ve used that line on me before.” She put a hand against his cheek, then she grew briefly serious. “We’re pretty screwed-up people, you and me. We have some heavy past issues. What if we get together, then go back to being those screwed-up miserable people and take each other down into the hole?”

He thought about this for a moment, looking deeply into her eyes. “Honey, I’ve been there, down in that hole. I’m not going back that way. You can’t make me. And I, for God’s sake, have no interest in ruining you. How about that?”

“What are you looking for?” she asked him.

“Today? I’m thinking a real kiss, arms around each other, pressed close, wet and sloppy and longer than half a second. And then, I think I’ll call you Wednesday night after work, just to see how your day was.”

“I have an AA meeting Wednesday night….”

“You could tell me what time is good to call. I’m very flexible.”

“And then?”

“One of these days I’d like to take you out to a nice dinner. Nothing scary or fancy, just nice. Quiet, good food, a place to talk while we eat where there’s no risk of bird shit. I don’t expect you to miss a meeting, I could pick you up afterward. Get you home early enough to get some rest before the early shift at the diner.”

“I have a couple of days off a week,” she said. “I could hit an early meeting and we could actually have dinner at dinnertime.” Then she smiled.

“You’re not fighting me on the idea,” he observed.

“So far you haven’t suggested anything that I ought to beware of.”

“Honey, I have no interest in scaring you.” He rubbed that knuckle along the smooth skin of her jaw. “You’re pretty and smart and being with you is good. If it’s good for you, too, we’ll keep going. The second it stops being what you want, all you have to do is say so.”

She shook her head and smiled. “If I’d run into someone like you years ago— Aw, forget it, that had nothing to do with it.”

“What?” he asked.

“It’s just this trap alcoholics sometimes get tempted by. Like if my life had been better, I wouldn’t have been a drunk. The truth is, my life wasn’t better because I’m an alcoholic. It had to do with addiction, not luck or intelligence or the right man.”

He grinned at her. “I sensed a suggestion that you might almost think I’m the right man.”

She patted his cheek. “You seem to be working out so far.”