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Just inside, Shane knelt at the skirting board, paint brush in hand, with a little boy next to him. The boy glanced up at Sterling, then averted his eyes. Sterling didn’t blame him. He was a frightening sight. By the window, three old ladies were cutting lengths of wallpaper. They looked his way and started a low-pitched, fervent conversation, then as one, gave him the evil eye. The tallest of the three pointed two fingers at him in the universal gesture that meant “I’m watching you.” He took a step back and wondered whether it was too late to escape. The old ladies were nuts. If he stayed, they’d find a way to hang him from the roof or use his head to decorate the walls.
But it was not to be. At that moment, Kat broke away from a young couple who were measuring a sheet of wood and approached him.
“You made it,” she exclaimed. “Ready to try something new?”
He shrugged. “As ready as I’ll ever be. And it’s not totally new. I’ve been on a few work sites for my job.”
“That’s good. Let’s get you going then.”
His eyes narrowed suspiciously. “What do you have in mind?”
She didn’t answer, instead tapping Shane’s shoulder. “Shane, can you show Sterling where he can start?”
He grinned up at her, his dark fringe flopping over his forehead. “No worries, Kat.” He stood and grasped Sterling’s hand. “Good to see you again. I have to say, I’m surprised you’re up and about after last night. Usually Logan knocks newcomers out of action for a good twelve hours.”
Sterling winced. Had everyone known what Logan was up to except him? The possibility irked, although the fact he’d taken home the prize M&Ms made up for the damage to his ego.
“I’m made of sterner stuff than that.”
Shane’s grin slanted wryly. “Kat bullied you into it, didn’t she?”
“Not at all.”
The other man wasn’t buying it. “Whatever you say, mate.”
The little boy wrapped his arms around Shane’s legs and stuck the same thumb Sterling had just watched him run over the floor in his mouth.
“Daddy?” the boy asked.
Shane ruffled his hair. “This is my son Hunter. Hunter, this is Sterling. He’s staying with Kat.”
“Oh.” The boy didn’t say anything else. Maybe he was shy. Sterling could relate. He’d been a socially awkward kid.
“Hello, Hunter,” he said, hating how stiff he sounded. The trouble was, he never spent any time around children—with the exception of Eli’s baby daughter—and he didn’t know how to communicate with them. “It’s nice to meet you.”
“What do you say, Hunter?” Shane asked, tilting his son’s face up. The boy mumbled something. “What’s that? You need to speak up so we can hear you.”
Sterling wanted to tell him that it wasn’t a big deal if the kid didn’t want to talk, but Hunter overcame his shyness and said, “Hi, mister.”
Shane appeared pleased by this. He let the kid go and turned back to Sterling. “Have you done any DIY before?”
“Not personally, but I have some basic knowledge of the techniques involved.”
“Okay.” Shane thought for a moment and scratched his chin, which had too much scruffy facial hair to be considered stubble but too little to be called a beard. “You can finish painting the skirting board.” He handed him a brush. “You can’t really go wrong. Paint in lengthwise strokes along the grain of the wood, and try not to get too much of it on the wall and floorboards. It won’t matter too much if you slip up because the wallpaper and carpet still need to be put in place.”
“All right,” he said, feeling like a student in one of Mr. Walker’s classes.
“If you have any problems, let me know.”
Sterling nodded. “You’ve been doing this for a while?”
“Yeah.” Shane ran a hand through his messy hair, leaving a streak of white paint in it. “We started because I needed to grow some skills to renovate my house. It’s an old villa and needs a lot of TLC. It’s great practicing here because Kat is really patient if things go wrong, and we get the full experience rather than trying to learn using YouTube videos.” He shook his head. “Trust me, that’s far harder than people make it out to be. Anyway, DIY Saturday is Hunter’s favorite part of the week. He’d throw an almighty tantrum if we didn’t come.”
Sterling looked over to where the boy was happily crawling along the floor, stopping every meter to check the level of the skirting board. “Unusual hobby for someone his age, isn’t it?”
Shane laughed in disbelief. “Are you kidding? It’s a rite of passage to play with daddy’s toolbox.”
Sterling blushed, reminding himself he couldn’t have been expected to know that. If not for the fact that a baby couldn’t be made without a contribution from a man, he would assume he didn’t have a father. His mother had been his solo parent, and she’d done as well as she could, but she hadn’t been in a position to spend the weekends mucking around playing Bob the Builder with him.
