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“Yeah.” His voice was rough, and he cleared his throat. “Like this.” He pressed the steamer against the wall, held it there for a couple seconds, then moved it to the side. He stayed within the confines of the piece of paper, slowly moving it back and forth, then moving it down after he’d done it a few times.
I watched as he did the whole sheet of wallpaper. The very top was already curling away from the wall beneath it, but my eyes were on his hand as he moved the steamer.
On him.
They flitted back and forth. From the hands I knew were big and strong and soft to the profile of the man I’d loved when he’d been little more than a boy once upon a time.
My stomach fluttered as he rolled his shoulders and got on his knees to do the very bottom of the paper. His light-wash denim shorts hugged his ass unfairly well, and his t-shirt pulled up just enough that I could see the dimples at the base of his back.
I snapped my eyes away before he was done.
What was I doing?
I hated him. He’d almost ruined my life and my business. Why was I ogling him just because he was helping me? I didn’t need him to do any more than what he was doing.
“Now,” he said, “If you grab the scraper, it’ll peel right off. You might get a few stubborn bits in the corners, but you can use some hot water with a sponge to get right in there. See?”
He grabbed the scraper and reached up. He was tall enough that he could reach the top of the wall without standing on anything—unlike me. The scraper against the wall was a cringe-worthy sound up there with nails on a chalkboard, but he was right. The paper peeled right off, apart from one or two spots in the corner near the window frame.
He peeled off the final bit at the bottom of the wall with a flourish and dropped it on the floor in front of him.
I picked up the trash bag from the counter and handed it to him with a raised eyebrow.
Laughing, he bent down and put the paper in the bag. “Get the big bits off first, then go around after for the little bits. Otherwise, you’ll get all caught up in it. And if you’re still using this bag after strip three, then I’ll eat my socks.”
I snatched the bag from him and rolled my eyes. “We’re not all messy like you. Some of us need trash in the trash bag, not all over the floor.”
“And laundry in the basket, and shampoo in the basket, and toothbrushes in the cup, and—”
“It’s basic tidiness. It’s not my fault if that’s always evaded you.” I sniffed and put the bag down. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.” He handed me the scraper with a wide smile.
I stared at him.
“You can smile at me, you know.”
“I think being nice and not stabbing you with this scraper is enough for today.”
His smile turned lopsided, and he actually reached out and flicked my hair. “Ah, there’s the Raelynn everyone knows and loves.”
“You’re within stabbing distance.”
“Modern day Wednesday Addams,” he continued, moving too quickly toward the door.
I twirled the scraper in my hand and almost dropped it.
He turned to leave, the sound of his laughter all he left behind.
And, god fucking damn it, I smiled.
***
Stripping wallpaper took a really long time. Like, longer than you’d think. It didn’t help that I did have to go around some of the furniture that was attached to the wall, and that meant a lot of sponge and hot water treatment, then I had to be careful not to scratch anything.
I was more than a little grateful when Sophie showed up after work with pizza and coffee and a willing pair of hands.
“So you let him in to help and didn’t yell at him?” she asked for the third time.
“Yes!” I was exasperated at this point.
“Wow.” She moved the steamer over the wall next to me. “I’m shocked.”
I got enough paper off the wall to grab it with my hand. “He offered to help, and I didn’t know what I was doing. I would have asked the devil himself to help at that point, and it’d only been five minutes.”
“It’s a good thing you never tried to work with kids. Your lack of patience would kill you.”
“I don’t have the patience to attempt it, never mind do it.” I peeled the paper right down and sighed happily when it came off in one long strip.
“So satisfying,” Soph muttered.
“Like popping zits or peeling off dead skin after a sunburn,” I agreed, getting the scraper back on the wall. “It’s not a big deal. If Marnie hadn’t been in the store, there’s no way he’d have stopped to help me. He was just being nice.”
