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She shrugged. It might not be the conversation she thought she’d have, but he was trying to relax her and keep it on neutral topics.
“Royce and my father did most of the work. I did all the tiles in the house. So the floors by the door, in the bathrooms, there is a half bath down here and two full upstairs. I did the backsplash too.”
He walked into the kitchen with her and looked at the light teal subway tile with tan grout. “Nice job.” It was the only color other than artwork on the walls and decor, which wasn’t much.
“Thanks. I did all the painting too. I figured my brother and father were doing the hard heavy work and I did a lot of the smaller detail stuff. The hardware, I installed all of that too. Iused to like tagging along with my father on jobs when I was younger.”
“Me too,” he said. “Guess I still am.”
She smiled at his joke. “What about singing?” she asked.
No one asked him about that anymore.
“What about it?”
“You have the looks. You had a good voice. I thought maybe you’d do something with it. Or did it not work out?”
He laughed. “Lots of people have the looks and a good voice. You need more than that,” he said. “Maybe I could have done more with it. I didn’t try. I’m a homebody as I said.”
His parents had encouraged him to try. His friends too.
In college he’d gone to bars and sang. He was in a band at one point too. It was just too hard to do it all and it wasn’t the life he wanted.
Elise nodded. “The same.”
“Are you going to show me the upstairs?” he asked with a grin.
She shut one eye at him. “Three bedrooms, one I use as an office. The other is a spare. Two full baths. Not much to see but furniture.”
He’d take that as a no. Yeah, stepping on the pedal harder than he should be.
“It smells good in here,” he said.
“I’ve got potatoes roasting in the oven. I thought I’d light the grill and throw some burgers on it.”
“Manly meal,” he said, laughing. “Meat and potatoes.”
“I figured I couldn’t go wrong with it. I do have carrots in the air fryer.”
“Huh? Why?”
“Because they get roasted that way and caramelized. They are almost sweet. Nice smelling too.”
“Then I guess I’ll have to choke some veggies down tonight.”
She rolled her eyes. “No one is forcing you. Just thought I’d make them. Do you want a beer?”
“Sure,” he said. “If you have a glass of wine. You’re nervous and I don’t want that.”
“It’s that obvious?” she asked and moved to the fridge. She pulled out a beer and then a glass. “Hope this is okay?”
“Any Fierce beer is a good beer. A stout on a cold winter’s day is even better.”
“That is what Royce says,” she said.
He took the bottle away from her with the bottle opener, then filled his glass while she poured herself some deep rich red wine.
“How was your week? Or the rest of it?”
