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“Nice catch,” I say as Lacy carefully backs down the ladder.
Once she’s safely to the floor, I grab the notepad and pencil I’ve got jammed in my back pocket and jot down the line,grit in my life.
This is how Lacy and I have been working over the last few days. Lacy will come up with some home renovation project for us to do. We work together, each of us with a notepad and pencil at hand. And, as we work, we talk through our art. Lacy has already written a new poem in the last few days, and I’ve churned out two more songs.
I never thought my creative process would involve another personorhome renovations, but here we are. With Lacy, it just works. She seems to understand my writing style and exactly what lines fit my vibe—grit in my lifeis the perfect example. It’s totally something I’d write.
“Okay, now you go up and see if you can get the putty knife underneath and catch a solid piece of the wallpaper to start pulling down,” Lacy says authoritatively once I’m done scribbling in my notebook.
“Yes, boss,” I reply with a grin. When it comes to the Rose Manor work, Lacy is clearly the one in charge. She’s normally so quiet and passive, it’s fun to see her take control. Fun and kind of sexy.
I climb up the ladder, balancing carefully as Lacy holds it at the bottom, and work the putty knife under a corner of the faded wallpaper at the top. It dislodges easily. Soon enough, I’ve worked off a chunk about the width of my hand and start peeling it easily down off the wall.
“Woah, this is kinda fun,” I say in surprise as I continue to peel it off. “Like picking a scab or something.”
“Ew, that is truly not a comparison I needed to hear,” Lacy replies but she’s giggling. “Good simile though.”
“Maybe something for one of your poems?”
“Could be,” she says thoughtfully.
I finish peeling the giant strip of wallpaper all the way to the ground and get off the ladder, at which point Lacy goes to scribble something inherlittle notebook. I watch as she writes intently, a little furrow forming on her brow as she bites her lip with concentration.
Lacy’s lips are so plump and she’s constantly calling attention to them with these little lip-bites, which drives me kinda crazy—agoodkind of crazy.
“Okay, one strip of wallpaper down…” My voice trails off as I scan the room, realizing we’ve got a lot of ground to cover.
“Like a bajillion more to go?” Lacy says with a wry smile.
“Guess we better get to it.”
We continue working like that for the whole morning, Lacy climbing up the ladder first to apply the stripping solution—me generally reminding myself not to check out her butt—but stealing the occasional peek, and following up with the putty knife to peel down the large strips. It’s a sweltering day and the air conditioning in Rose Manor hasn’t worked in ages, so we’re both drenched in sweat by the time lunch rolls around.
“Shall we take a little break?” Lacy asks, pushing her glasses up her nose as she talks. Her skin is glistening and her shirt is damp, sticking seductively to her skin and giving a hint of the killer curves she’s packing beneath. I work hard to maintain eye contact as I answer her.
“Yes, please.”
I strip my t-shirt off as I talk, dropping it to the floor with a wetthwap.
“As a percentage, how much of your life do you think you spend wearing a shirt versus not?” Lacy asks teasingly.
“Come on, Lace, it’s insanely hot today,” I protest.
I notice her staring at my chest and torso before looking away quickly, her cheeks coloring.
Did she just check me out?I’d feel like less of a creep if I knew that I wasn’t the only one sneaking sexy peeks here and there. I don’t want to make her uncomfortable.
“Ham sandwiches and iced tea for lunch?” she asks abruptly.
“Good for me.”
We head to the kitchen, where Lacy makes us a couple sandwiches and pours us some fresh iced tea. This, I’ve learned, is the extent of her culinary skills.
“We should be able to finish the wallpaper today,” Lacy says as she bustles around the kitchen. “Then the dining room will just need a fresh coat of paint and be good to go.”
“I know that wallpaper is kinda a mess, but I’ve got to admit, it’s bumming me out to tear it down,” I say with a sigh as chomp into the sandwich Lacy’s put in front of me.
“Really? Why?”
