Somebody to Love (Gideon's Cove #3)(74)

“So, James, you kissed me last night.”

“Yes.” Bang!

Parker reached out and put a hand on his warm, hard shoulder. “Would you please stop for a second and talk to me?”

He put down the nail gun and folded his arms across his chest and looked at her with those dark, dark eyes. No smile. It was a little intimidating. In a very hot way. In a smoldering, brooding, alpha way. Heck yeah!

“Put a shirt on, Thing One. Cover up all that male beauty and stop distracting me.”

He smiled at that, and crap, it was worse than ever, because that smile melted her, and the idea that she could make him look that happy had her heart swelling. It felt good, earning that smile. James obeyed, getting his T-shirt from the railing of the porch and pulling it over his head. “There. Can you think straight now?” he asked.

“Better,” she said. “So.”

“So. I kissed you.” He stared at her, the wind ruffling his thick hair.

“Yes.”

She cleared her throat. “And while it had a certain effect, I don’t think it should happen again.”

“I think it should.”

Bang! No nail gun this time, just her rabbity heart. Nine days. Nine days till her son came back. “Well, things are uncertain in my life, as you’re aware, and even though you’re very cute, and yes, we’ve done the deed before, it’s a bad idea.”

“Why?”

Not sure, actually. “Um…it just is.”

A smile began at the corner of his mouth and spread slowly. Parker’s skin actually broke out into goose bumps. Get a grip, Parker, she told herself.

Fling! Fling! Fling! chanted Lady Land.

“You’re scared,” he said.

“Could be, Thing One. Or it could be that I’m smart. Either way, not gonna happen again. Okay? I’m flattered, and as I said, you’re quite cute, but no. Thank you. Now, I’m going inside to start painting your bedroom. Can I get you a drink of water?”

The smile was full-blown now. Devastating smile. Two more seconds of that smile, and James would find himself flat on his back with her on top of him.

“That’d be great, Parker. Thank you.”

She stood there another second. How could she have thought he looked sulky and brooding when he had the most wonderful, open, generous, happy, genuine smile in the whole world?

Crikey.

“One ice water, coming up for my hardworking boy.” She smiled, too—See? We can get along just great!—and went inside, stuck her head in the freezer and told Lady Land to pipe down.

An hour later, Parker paused outside James’s bedroom, which would soon be Nicky’s bedroom. His was the last room to be painted.

She’d discovered that she loved painting rooms. Painting was good for the soul. It was soothing and exciting both, the invigorating smell and luscious texture of the paint, the hissing of the roller as she zipped it against the walls. Pulling off painter’s tape, the revelation of the perfect line, the tidiness of it all, had become one of the great thrills of her life. Pathetic but true.

She’d chosen a very pale green for her bedroom—Sage Mist—and repainted the trim bright white. Amazing how it perked up the room. Her quilt was green, blue and pink, and the other day, Maggie had taken her to World of Curtains—Maggie was moving in with Malone, who had no curtains, which both women had found stunning and inexplicable. Parker had found some pale green drapes a shade or two lighter than her walls, lined with pink, and they were eighty percent off. Bargain shopping, another new experience for Parker, was also proving quite thrilling.

The kitchen was a nice sunny-yellow—Northern Sunrise—the battered cupboards much improved by a glossy red. With the Formica-and-steel table and the funny yellow chairs, it now looked pretty nice—if you could overlook the linoleum, which was the color of dried blood. A new—and cheap—floor was next on her list.

Maggie had had a tag sale a few days ago, so there was finally a little furniture in the living room—a couch and a pretty nice-looking Mission-style chair. One day, while out walking Beauty, Parker had come across a great hunk of bleached driftwood and hefted it home as the dog tried to chew on it. Ordered a piece of beveled glass from the boys at the hardware store, and voilà. A coffee table was born.

The shack was becoming pretty cute, and completely unrecognizable from the hoarder’s hell she’d first seen.

It was almost too bad she had to sell it.

At any rate, it was time to paint James’s room.

It felt extraordinarily intimate, for some reason, opening his door. Also, her father’s snake was in there. She paused, then went back to the kitchen, where she could see him through the open window. “I’m going to start painting your room now,” she said. “Want to move your  p**n o stash first?”

“It’s all up here,” James said, tapping his temple.

“Okay. Hope your diary’s not open. I’d hate to see how you yearn for me.”

“That’s hardly a secret,” he said, his tone cheery, his smile killer.

“Is Apollo’s cage locked?”

“Sure is.” Then he hefted the ladder, his biceps bulging most attractively, and moved past the window.

Lady Land was getting downright hostile. She sighed, then went back down the hallway.