“No,” he barked out and then hesitated, clearing his throat. “No, this is a perfect time – except that time got away from me.”
“So did the paint,” she chuckled, walking past him into the house, and the scent of her shampoo mixed with whatever that sweet smell she had clinging to her was enough to roll his eyes back into his head as his toes curled in his socks. His boots were safely out of the splatter zone.
He shook his head and paused. “Huh?”
Gosh, Heidi had this little sway to her hips when she walked, and seeing her in his house was doing things to his nervous system. It was probably the equivalent of licking alight socket while standing in a kiddie pool. She looked over her shoulder at him, smiled, and kicked off her shoes in a deliberate manner, before nudging them to the side.Oh gosh, she had a tiny little green bow on the back of her socks?
A noise escaped his throat.
“I said,” she drew out slowly, letting out a little laugh, almost like she knew what was in his head. “That the paint got away from you, too – because there is a splotch of tan in your hair. What are you painting tan?” she asked softly, lifting an eyebrow at him. “I thought we bought pink?”
“I did,” he hesitated and cleared his throat. His voice was squeaking like a thirteen-year-old boy who just found a dirty magazine for the first time. “I bought pink when I was with you – and I went back to get some neutral tan paint for the front sitting room so it looks presentable and proper.”
“Proper is no fun,” she teased and then moved toward him, yanking a tissue out of a nearby box on an end table. “Here, let me get that blob of paint for you…”
This was cascading out of control. It was supposed to be an easy dinner, heck, they’d even agreed to having something simple like cereal – and even agreed on what kind of cereal to have. He liked simple girls who seemed easy to please, but also had an edge to them, just like Heidi.
“Who wants to be proper?” he said hoarsely as her hands moved to touch his hair. “Pink is just another color in the spectrum.”
“True,” she murmured, standing before him and looking up toward his hairline as she carefully blotted the tissue, concentrating. “Proper just isn’t as fun, and sometimes people can get away with having a pink sitting room or a pink kitchen, as long as you mix it with some bland stuff too. It’s when you get a bunch of funky stuff together that people start to talk or eyeball you the wrong way… but then again, Officer Chance, I bet you don’t want people talking about you,” she finished breathlessly and met his eyes. “There – it’s almost gone.”
“I don’t care what people say about me,” he whispered, drowning in her eyes. “And if you want a pink sitting room, I’ll repaint it.”
“It’s not my sitting room,” she replied, looking away… and then slid her eyes back toward him as his heart leaped in his chest with awareness. “Maybe you should stick with the tan paint instead.”
“Save it for a room that might be a little more fun or improper?” he asked softly – and then almost apologized for being so forward. Goodness, where did that even come from within him? He was going to have to watch his mouth around this woman if he was going to treat her like his lady.
And then she smiled.
The side of her mouth curled on the left as she met his eyes boldly, her cheeks staining with the faintest flush at his words. Yeah, he probably shouldn’t have said that, but dang it – that was how he felt. If Heidi ever gave him more than the time of day, if things ever got serious between them, or he ever put a ring on her finger… then ‘proper’ was going out the window in a flash.
“I like that idea, Jack,” she told him, and the purr in her voice sent shivers up his spine. “I never pictured you for a pink bedroom, but the idea has merit.”
“I never mentioned my bedroom,” he countered immediately, and felt his pulse stutter in awareness. “But maybe I should paint the master bedroom pink.”
“It’s up to you,” she chuckled, her smile widening. “But then I might want to see it.”
Oh mercy…
I’m a goner!
Jack tried to look nonchalant – and knew he failed when she winked at him. Yeah, if he was swimming in deep waters,she was a mega-shark circling him. Outwitted, outmatched, outclassed, and fresh outta caring about the finer details of dating anymore. He wanted this woman for his own – forever – and there were no doubts in his mind. “Now that sounds like you are flirting with me or trying to get an invitation.”
“I thoughtyouwere flirting withme, but maybe I was wrong?” she whispered coyly, looking innocent before batting her eyelashes at him… and he was utterly charmed.
“No, you weren’t,” he admitted, not bothering to hide his thoughts anymore because, despite everything going on, there was some sort of feeling, a bond, between them. Heidi gave as good as she got – and he was ready to give her more. “Iamflirting with you and enjoying it immensely, if you don’t mind this.”
“I kind of expected the guy I’m dating to flirt with me,” she laughed again and then stepped back from him, holding up the paint-stained tissue between them. “But maybe we should slow down for a moment. I mean, we discussed having my favorite cereal, or I could whip up something for us – and just FYI - I’ve painted a room or two in my life, if you want help?”
He wasn’t done.
Jack stepped closer to Heidi and saw her swallow. He plucked the tissue from her hand and chucked it over his shoulder carelessly. She drew in her breath, their eyes holding, as he touched her hip and treasured the way she shivered in delight – or so he hoped. Bending his head close to hers, he wanted to test the waters, to see if he was crossing a line or not without ruining things between them… and spoke.
“Let me get this straight, so there’s no misunderstanding between the two of us,” he murmured softly against her cheek and treasured the way she caught her breath. “We’redating. We’re picking out paint colors together. We’re making plans for the master bedroom. We like the same things and…”
“You mentioned it being for the master bedroom,” she interrupted, the words sounding stilted.
“No, Sweetheart,” he chuckled softly, grasping that the imaginary rope between them. “You mentioned the bedroom, and I agreed,” he whispered tenderly, brushing his nose against the softness of her cheek, and let his thoughts pour out of him as he drank in every bit of this moment – her scent, the way she was breathing raggedly, the feeling of her standing so close to him, all of it. “And if my woman wants the bedroom she’s going to occupy someday to look like a bordello, I’m game – black sheets and all.”
