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“Because I love it. And it deserves some wall time.” I gestured widely with my hand. “Not like I’m planning on bringing visitors up here—”
“Thank you,” he said a little too quickly, and I had to chuckle.
“Monroe. Give me some credit. Not like I’m gonna hookup right under your nose, okay?” I didn’t let him protest what he’d meant. We both knew the truth. “Anyway, the paintings are great. I’ll take them down if you have a showing for the house, but right now, I’m gonna admire that ass.”
Monroe mumbled something under his breath that sounded suspiciously jealous, like his earlier tone about donating supplies to Sam.
“Would you prefer I ogle yours?” I waggled my eyebrows at him.
“No.”
“Liar.” I danced away to hang the remaining two paintings while Monroe finished wiping down the empty shelves and desk.
As I stepped back to admire the paintings, Monroe groaned and stretched his arms, nearly brushing the low ceiling. “Man, this is work. I’m used to exercising, but I’m still getting quite the workout.”
“Yup. Don’t get me wrong. I love my gym time, especially in the winter. But there’s no substitute for the way construction uses all your muscles.” I joined him in a big stretch, not missing how his eyes followed my every move. “That’s what I love about working with Frank and Leon at Measure Twice, honestly. Dad doesn’t get why I love remodeling so much, but I love coming back home exhausted. Put me on a roof for eight hours or doing three coats of paint in a grand living room, and I’m a happy sweaty mess.”
“The navy could use a few more hard workers like you.”
“Nah. Trust me. I’m way too much of a free spirit for Uncle Sam, Lieutenant Butter.” I danced with the broom again, deliberate this time.
“I can see that too.” Monroe’s intense look had me seconds from pushing him onto the daybed and showing him exactly how free I could be. But I could also be good, so I forced myself to stick to bland topics. “Look at all the bags of trash. See? Unlike at the gym, we’ve got immediate proof of all our work. I love that about remodeling. Something tangible to admire at the end of the day. Makes the work that much more satisfying.”
“It does look way different now.” Monroe glanced around the space, which seemed far larger with all the trash and clutter removed. Brighter, too, thanks to the discovery of a teeny balcony and several windows hiding behind decades-old coverings. The paintings further brightened and gave personality to the space, and I couldn’t wait to bring Wallace up and spread my belongings around.
“Yup. And we’re gonna do this to the whole place.” I swept my arms wide, energized from the day’s work. “You’ll see. You won’t recognize this house by the time I’m done.”
“Good.” He grinned at me, a genuine wide one with enough appreciation to add to my ego. “And I have a budget. While we eat pizza, I’ll show you my lists, and you can add your ideas, and we can talk about what to outsource and what to DIY.”
“You’re gonna listen to my opinions?” Much as I liked being appreciated, I remained shocked that Mr. Officer Dude intended to take advice from me instead of charging ahead like most bossy types. He’d taken direction from me all afternoon, though, and it had been incredibly validating.
“Why not?” He shrugged. “You’re the construction expert, not me.”
“I am.” I preened. What else might Monroe let me take charge of? My body hummed with delicious energy.
“And the one with vision. I could never have imagined this space so transformed.” Chuckling, he shook his head. “I still think you’re going to be too hot up here, but I see now why you like it.”
“I’ll just wear fewer clothes.”
“Knox.” The way he groaned made me want to strip right there.
“I kid. I kid.” Dancing away from him, I moved a little too quickly and tripped over the box of art supplies for Sam. “Whoops.”
“Careful.” Monroe righted me before I could hit the floor, bringing our faces much, much too close to each other. And he kept his grip on my upper arm even after I had my footing again. Time slowed, the light in the room shifting, the air thickening, the beat of my heart getting louder and louder. Or maybe that was his. I inhaled, eyes locked on his full lips. Waiting. And waiting. This had to be his call. His head dipped, and my pulse sped up, and…
“We can’t.” Releasing my arm, he moved away quickly, shrinking back against the bookshelves.
“I know.” I let the full force of my regret lace my words, but I didn’t chase after him. “I better go check on Wallace again, bring him up here to see his new home.”
