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His blue eyes flashed with either an answering awareness or leftover angst about her plumbing situation. She couldn’t tell which. She noticed he took a brief inventory of her jeans and long-sleeved shirt before ending at her sock-covered feet. From there he snapped his gaze to the bed covered in her clothes.
“I didn’t know what to pack...” She didn’t bother finishing that sentence, gesturing for him to come in while she dug a suitcase from the back of her closet. She started piling clothes into it while Flynn wandered around her studio, taking in the blank canvases on the floor.
“Not inspired?” His deep voice tickled down her spine like it had over the phone. Flynn had a deep baritone that was gruff and gentle at the same time.
Just like his mouth.
She was inspired all right, but not to paint.
“This is a bad idea,” she blurted out, halfway into her packing. “You don’t want me living with you even on the temporary. I’m messy and chatty and wake up in the middle of the night to eat ice cream.”
“I have ice cream. I also have just shy of five thousand square feet going to waste. And plenty of clean water.”
“But—”
“I didn’t ask. Pack.” He surveyed her art supplies. “You can bring this stuff, too. I think the easel will fit in the backseat.”
“Don’t be silly! It’s only for a few days.”
“Sab, you live in a building that was erected sometime around the fall of Rome. The plumbing issue could be bigger and deeper than you think.”
The words erected and bigger and deeper paraded through her head like characters in a pornographic movie. He didn’t mean any of them the way she was envisioning them, but she still had trouble meeting his stern gaze.
“Pack extra clothes in case. If you need more, you can pick them up later.”
“Moving me in wasn’t what you had in mind when you took a hiatus, I bet.” She shoved more clothes into the suitcase.
“I didn’t have a hiatus in mind. You’re the one who made me do it.” He bent and lifted the canvases.
“I haven’t been able to paint, so don’t bother with those.”
“I haven’t been able to relax, and watching you paint is relaxing. Will you at least try for the sake of my sanity?” His mouth quirked and again she had the irrational notion that she’d like to kiss that quirk right off his face.
“I’ll try,” she said, simultaneously talking about painting and not attacking him like a feral female predator.
“I’ll run these to the car. Oh, and Sab?”
“Yes?”
“Remember those cookies you used to make? The ones with the M&M’s?”
“Yes...”
“If you have the stuff to make those, bring it.”
She smiled, remembering making him M&M cookies years ago. He’d devour at least a half a dozen the moment they came out of the oven. “I have the stuff.”
“Good.” With a final nod and not another word, he made the first trip down to his car with the canvases.
Sabrina resumed her packing, reminding herself that being tempted by Flynn and giving in to temptation didn’t have to coincide.
“You’ve got this,” she said aloud, but she wasn’t sure she believed it.
