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He shook his head. Something about the fact that he was willingly entering completely new territory to help her made this moment much more meaningful.
Jasmine walked him through the basics and left him to his work as she finished the coat of paint on her side of the room. They completed the task much faster with the two of them.
“Did I do okay?” he asked, setting the brush on the paint can.
Jasmine came over and inspected the trim around the windows and base board. “Pretty good for a city boy who’s never gotten his hands dirty before.”
He chuckled. “I said I hadn’t painted, not that I hadn’t gotten my hands dirty.”
She turned to look up at him. “Do tell?”
His grey eyes glittered with amusement. “I’d rather show you.”
The air was charged with enough energy to short-circuit the whole inn. It was too easy to get caught up in whatever this was between them. Flirting with him was second nature. But having anything more would be disastrous. She backed up a step, looking over to Zoey. But she wasn’t there.
“Zo—Ahh!” She jumped away as a cool slick of wetness slid over her thigh.
Zoey giggled. “Paint you, Mama.”
Jasmine grabbed the paintbrush from her daughter’s tiny fingers. “Zoey, this isn’t the kind of paint we put on bodies.” At least it was only me who got painted.
“Mr. Atlas’s pants looks pretty now.”
Shit!
He twisted, studying the side of his pants. The light yellow contrasted against his dark jeans.
Damn it to hell. Those probably cost more than I want to know. “I am so sorry.”
He lifted his hand and waved it dismissively. “Don’t worry about it. You warned me.”
“Zoey, you ruined his pants.”
She looked down. “I sorry. I was just trying to make it pretty.”
He crouched down to look her in the eyes and smiled. “It’s okay. They were kind of plain anyways.”
She tipped her little chin up, eyes brightening before she looked cautiously over to Jasmine. “So, you not mad?”
He shook his head. “Nope.”
“And I still get ice cream?”
He laughed. “If your mommy says it’s okay.”
They both turned towards her.
“I suppose.” But she would be paying for lunch, even if it meant she had to skip a few meals herself. She owed Atlas that much.
* * *
Zoey pushed her plate away. “I’m full, Mommy.”
Jasmine picked up a napkin and wiped the ketchup from Zoey’s face. “I guess you don’t have room for ice cream, then.”
Zoey’s eyes widened. “I am full of lunch, but I have room for ice cream.”
“Ohhh. Let me see.” Jasmine poked her belly as Zoey giggled. “Yes, there’s your chicken nuggets, and the macaroni and cheese. Oh, yes, there’s an empty spot shaped like ice cream.”
