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I stretch my arms overhead, leaving my door open as I walk to my bed and slide beneath the cool sheets. I try to stay awake in hopes that Atlas will find his way upstairs soon but it’s no use. With each blink, my eyelids grow heavier and heavier. Finally, I close my eyes, giving in to sleep.
Chapter 16
Atlas
“Iagree, Martin.” I rub my eyes, the burning from lack of sleep is making it hard to focus.
That’s not what’s making it hard to focus.
“Let’s move forward with things. I’ll have Florence schedule a follow-up for next week.” I hang up the phone, reaching for my empty mug of coffee. Groaning, I head to the kitchen for a refill when I see Oliver lugging a huge plastic sheet down the hallway.
“What is going on?”
“Morning, sir.” He nods, his hands full. “The Mrs. is painting so I told her I’d bring this up for her.”
“Painting?” I ask, not sure I heard correctly.
“Yes, her room.” He pauses. “Did you want me to tell her to stop?”
“No.” I shake my head. “No, it’s fine. I’m just grabbing another cup of coffee.” I wave him off and step into the kitchen where Regina is prepping dinner.
“Oh hey, Mr. Knight.” She smiles, slicing down the middle of an onion. “Didn’t realize you were home today.”
“I’m just working from my office.” I gesture, placing my mug beneath the espresso machine and pushing the button.
“You okay? You’re looking a little tired.”
I smile. “Yeah, I am tired. Nothing a cup of coffee won’t fix.”
“Oh, I remember those days.” She laughs, her loud boisterous laugh that always puts a smile on my own face. “That honeymoon phase is a real energy zapper.” She winks at me, laughing even louder.
“Trust me, that’s not a problem I’ll ever complain about.” I sip my coffee, taking a few more moments to grab a snack and watch out the window as Mac washes the cars. I shift my gaze to the ceiling when I hear a loud thump. “I better go check in on the wife, make sure she doesn’t paint herself into a corner. I’ll see you at dinner, Regina.”
I make my way upstairs, the same thoughts that have been running through my brain since last night when I came to bed and noticed it was empty. Neither of us have spoken about how things will be between us but in those four short nights we were together in Kansas, I realized how much I like having her in my bed and in my arms when I sleep. In fact, I barely slept at all last night. Memories of feeling her beneath me kept me awake, my body aching to feel her again.
“You’re really good at that,” I finally say after silently watching Stella for several long minutes.
“Oh.” She turns her head around on the ladder she’s perched atop. “Thank you.” She smiles, a small swatch of dried paint on her cheek. She’s clearly been at this for hours. One wall is completely done and she’s halfway done cutting in the ceiling on the second.
“You do know I have painters that you can hire, right?” I prop my shoulder against the doorframe, admiring the cute little overalls she’s wearing.
“I like to paint.” She shrugs, looking around the room. “Besides, now that I don’t have a job, what else am I going to do all day?” She gives me an ornery look and it’s a reminder that there are still some rules in place in this marriage.
I ignore the comment, not wanting to launch into another discussion that could turn into an argument or me saying some rude shit I don’t mean. “Where’d you learn?”
“YouTube. I just watched a few videos this morning on the way to the paint store.”
“I thought you said you liked painting.”
“I do,” she says with a straight face. “I just found out when I started this morning that I like it.” It makes me laugh and I step farther into the room. “This,” she says, dipping her paintbrush into her bucket and bringing it up to the very edge of the wall where it meets the ceiling, “is my favorite part.” She places the brush against the wall and in one long smooth motion, she pulls it along the ceiling, perfectly cutting it in without painters tape.
“Impressive.” I whistle. “Seriously, this is your first time?”
“Yup.” She dips her brush into the paint and repeats the process again. “I guess it’s called edging. It’s actually a lot of fun and I love that I’m good at it.”
“Yeah.” I chuckle. “I know a thing or two about edging.”
She shakes her head. “Somehow I knew you’d say something like that.”
