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When Taylor had decided to trust Liam and allow him to help her with her mural—a huge step for her after Darren—she’d figured he would find some unassuming wall, but he’d brought her to the three-story southern wall of the Sorcha Fitzgerald Arts Center!
“Are you sure about this?” she asked, looking over at him in the dark of his work truck as they sat in the parking lot.
“It’s perfect!” He unbuckled his seat belt and turned to face her, flicking his phone around so he could better see her, she imagined. “We’re an arts center—a mural is right up our alley.”
She licked her lips. “If you want to be public, wouldn’t the Brazen Donkey or a public wall in the village be better?” Wasn’t this too on the nose?
“I know Brady would be fine with it, but this wall is bigger. And a public wall could be painted over. This way we can control it. Plus, it suits our message—one you and Ghislaine—”
“Will continue to tell,” she added, fingering her trusty backpack, already packed with key supplies. “Once I officially start my job. Tomorrow.”
“It’s a heck of a first day when you think about it.”
She could see the edges of his winning smile in the darkened cab. “Well, you’re the new construction director.”
“Which is why I can disable the security cameras and lights with my handy little device here,” he said, picking up what looked like a remote and punching a few buttons. “I’m one of four people who can. We won’t have an audience, Taylor, or the Garda driving through town, and given the time this is going to take, that felt important.”
Important didn’t come close to covering it. Not that she hadn’t hidden in alley corners or behind dumpsters from cops and bums and late-night partiers. “Are you sure you’re going to be okay with keeping this our secret? They’ll know someone dismantled the security system.”
He took her hand, making her suddenly very aware of him and his body. “You have my word. Taylor, this is what we’ve been waiting for. A big gesture like this. Something only you could pull off. I know this is our answer to dealing with Malcolm and Aunt Mary and everyone else who’s tried to stop us.”
His certainty pushed her over the edge. “You’re a real trustworthy and persuasive kind of guy, Liam O’Hanlon. All right, let’s go.”
The moment she exited the cab, she smelled something stronger than woodsmoke in the air, along with the strong ordure of animals. They were lucky the sky was cloudy with the half-moon, and damn it if it wasn’t one of the darkest nights she’d ever worked in. Her blood started to race, carrying adrenaline through her veins.
Her happy place.
She detoured with Liam to the back of his truck, and they started pulling out supplies, their hands brushing at times. She liked that he didn’t stop her from carrying her share, but he did step in to haul off the ladders. And boy, did he have a number of nice commercial extension ladders. But it was his top-of-the-line three-tier industrial scaffolding that made her drool—materials he’d bought to build the recent sheds at the arts center.
“You really couldn’t be better prepared for what I have in mind,” she told him as he hefted up a large plastic tub that held gallons of paint they’d obtained at one of the large hardware stores he used in his day job. The man in charge hadn’t blinked an eye when Liam had presented his list, saying he was stocking up for some upcoming projects. He’d told Taylor he’d known Liam since he was in diapers and now he was the best painter in the area, although he was proud that Liam had taken his new job.
“If you ever want to say that in another context,” Liam added, “I’m completely open, by the way.”
He was off before she realized he’d meant something really fun and hot. Her belly tightened. Hewouldbe prepared for everything she had in mind, and her fantasies were red-hot. He was drawing her in more and more, especially after their earth-shattering kiss on the beach. She hadn’t known kissing could be that good.
But that was for later. After they finished the mural. She was thinking it would take seven hours to pull her off mural, weather permitting. Liam had assured her the weather was on their side. He’d apparentlyaskedfor it to be so. Whatever that meant.
She grabbed another tub of spray paint and started after him. Like her, he had on a black LED hat for night painting, although his was a stocking cap style and hers was a ball cap. After they’d unloaded the truck, he parked it inside a shed. Out of sight. He’d done it before she could ask, reading her mind in that eerie way of his.
“Tell me what I can do to help you,” he said in a low voice, standing tall in front of her.
His strong presence was more assuring than she wanted to admit. She’d known him for a little more than twenty-four hours, and already she was trusting him more than she had anyone since Darren. “Let’s arrange the supplies, and then I’ll start spraying in the design from the ladders. Early on, I figured out I liked using spray paint for the outline and details. Less trash and hustle to get another can, because you can only hold so much in your backpack. Once I get that done, I’ll mark the bigger sections with the color paint we want from the gallon cans, and then you can start filling in those spaces while I work on the deets.”
“Like Malcolm’s and Aunt Mary’s faces,” he added quietly. “It’s a brilliant design, Taylor. I’m proud to be here with you, making this happen.”
She was glad he was here too, even if it scared her. Then she caught the scent of oranges. “Apparently Sorcha sends her love too. I just smelled oranges, dammit.” But soon all she would smell was the intoxicating scent of paint and aerosol, better than any perfume to her mind.
“She’s only letting you know she’s adding her own protections to our site tonight. Get started,a stór.I’m right with you.”
And he was, moving the ladders and holding them in place as she scaled them to the top, some forty feet in the air. Not once did he tell her to be careful, which she appreciated. He was simply solid throughout, working the pullies on the ladders when she needed more spray paint.
She had the outline of the mural sketched out in an hour, and she credited her record time to his assistance using the pulleys to haul more spray paint up to her and take away her discarded cans. She hadn’t known she’d have a wall of this size when she’d sketched out her drawing. Usually she spent more time planning her design to fit the dimensions of the space available and make the appropriate stencils, but they’d been short on time, and she’d just gone for it. He’d laughed when she’d mentioned he might be buying too much paint, but he’d asked her to trust him. It had paid off. She’d need to remember that. He was not Darren.
Jumping to the ground from the ladder, she let a full smile break across her face. This was going to be one of her best works ever. She could always feel it. Smooth sailing. Pure joy. Which included being with him, she realized. Sharing this. Really serious thoughts…
“Okay, I’m done with the outline.” She massaged her hand and the pointer finger she used to depress the spray can to keep the blood circulating.
“Your hand sore?” he asked, taking it and giving it a bone-melting massage.
