Against the Wall (Stoddard Art School Series Book 3) (7 page)

Her long hair was secured in a thick braid trailing down the center of her back. Her mottled jeans bore smudges and smears of paint in every conceivable color. A gray hoodie bore similar markings. She slipped the receipt into her back pocket and pushed her pencil into her braid before bending to organize things. Her hoodie rose, and her jeans dipped leaving a pale curve of soft skin. Bear’s brain lost a good amount of blood flow.

He cleared the sudden catch in his throat. “Let me know if you have trouble getting anything. I can probably find it through my guys.”

“I think I’ve got it covered, but thanks.” She shot him a quick smile over her shoulder.

“You know, I never gave you a tour of the place. Fourth floor is still a disaster, but if you’d like to see the rest.”

“Um, I’d love to. Maybe later?”

“Sure, sure. Later.” She went back to unpacking quarts of latex paint. He twisted the cup in his hand. “Coffee?”

“No, thanks, I’m good.”

He should really stop studying her butt. “You know where the pot is if you want some. Feel free to help yourself. There’s donuts, too. Bottled water in the fridge.” He was rambling.

“Thank you.” She pulled out a set of plush roller sleeves and tossed them to one side.

“Is it too cool in here? I could bump the heat.”

“Bear…” Kay straightened, blew out a breath, and crossed her arms over her chest. “I’m great. I don’t need coffee, donuts, it’s not too hot, or too cold. It’s perfect.” She shook her head and laughed. She tucked a stray hair behind an ear. “I’m sure you’ve got your hands full with other things. I’m all set. If I need anything, I’ll come find you. I promise.”

“That was a nice way of telling me not to let the door hit me in the ass on the way out.”

“Handsome and smart.” She crooked one eyebrow at him.

“Okay.” He held up his hands. “I get it. I’ll get out of your way.”

“I’d appreciate it.”

“But if you need any—”

“Bear.”

He threw up his hands in surrender. “I’m going.”

And he went, but he couldn’t stay out of the lobby for long. He needed to see her work. It fascinated him. She fascinated him. He kept finding excuses to pop back. A forgotten supply order. His coffee cup. A pencil. Had he left his tape measure down here? Where’s the phone?

All the while watching her as she made a slow sweep of the lobby, running her hands over the plaster walls, marking with chalk any imperfections she found in the surface. She filled the holes with Spackle, wiped them smooth, and then taped off the baseboard using wide, blue painter’s masking tape.

On one of his return visits, he found her at the top of a stepladder taping along the ceiling line. Fear of her falling caught him like a blow to the chest, followed by the sudden, insane desire to catch her if she did. It would all happen in slow motion. She’d lose her footing, he’d drop everything and rush toward her in that split second easily scooping her into his arms. He’d hold her tight while their beating hearts calmed. She’d be so grateful…she’d…she’d…

What an idiot!

By the time five o’clock rolled around, all he wanted to do was pin her against the wall and kiss her. He’d been thinking about just that thing since he left her at her car the other night. Whoa. Let’s be honest here, he’d been thinking about kissing her since the first day on the beach.

He knew what the problem was. Lack of rainfall. Monsoon Diane had dried up more than a year ago, and he was in a serious drought. Or…maybe he wasn’t a pig and only thinking with his dick. Either way, he needed to hurry up and kiss her, so he could stop thinking about it and get back to work.

Kay was still rolling on primer long after the other workers had left at five.

“Didn’t you hear the whistle,” he teased. “Work day’s done. How about you and I take the tour, and then we can grab a bite to eat. They make a killer burger down at the diner.”

Kay set her roller back in the tray and brushed the stray hair away from her face. She put her hands on her hips and sighed at the floor. “I can’t do this anymore.”

“Great. I’ll clean your roller and you—”

“No.” She swirled her finger over the paint tray. “Not this.” She moved her hand in front of his face. “This.”

He opened his mouth to object, but she didn’t give him a chance.

“Do you have any idea how many times you came into this lobby today? An Alzheimer patient is less forgetful. Between you and the other guys, this place is like Grand Central Station. I won’t be able to work with the constant interruptions.”

“I’m sorry. I’ll talk to the crew. From now on, while you’re working, the lobby is off limits.” He rubbed her arm. “What do you say, cheeseburgers and a pile of the best french fries in the state? We can unwind, have a few laughs.”

“I can’t date you. I don’t date clients.”

He scoffed, trying to make it sound convincing. “It’s not a date.”

“Sounds like a date.” She tipped her head and narrowed her eyes.

“No. I shave for a date. It’s cheeseburgers and maybe a beer.”

Kay shook her head and picked up her roller. “Sorry, I have work to do.”

“You have to eat.”

“I’ll eat when I’m finished.” She pushed the roller into the pan filling it with paint.

“I can wait.” Bear sat on the corner of the desk.

Setting down the roller, she smiled, and brushed off her hands. “I quit.”

“Good, so you’ll come out with me.”

“No. I quit, quit.” Kay grabbed her bag and headed toward the door.

He was on his feet and caught her. “What? No. You can’t.”

“Bear…” She pulled out of his grasp and folded her arms over her chest. “I’m not playing games. Either you let me work, or we’re done here.”

“Okay, okay. I get it. What about this? I leave you alone. No more interruptions. I’ll take Shadow for his run, swing by and grab some burgers, and bring them back here. You can finish up without me getting in your hair, and I’ll still get my burger.”

“It’s not a date. You promise not to shave?”

He crossed a finger over his heart and held up the Boy Scout three fingers. “No shaving. Promise. Hell, I won’t even shower.”

She wrinkled her nose. “Wow, way to make a girl feel special.”

“What do you say?”

For a minute, she didn’t say anything. With her hands on her hips, she looked back at the walls. “I’ll need at least another hour and a half.”

“You got it.”

“And soda, not beer.”

“Okay.”

She picked up her roller again. “No shaving.”

“I’m throwing away my razor.”

Bear returned ninety minutes later with a sack of fat burgers, a heaping pile of hot french fries and cold six-pack of Cokes along with a serious five o’clock shadow.

The walls were finished. The sharp smell of primer filled the lobby, and Kay was gathering up the last of the drop cloths.

“Let’s sit on the porch. You could use the fresh air,” Bear suggested. She followed him out and took deep breaths of the easy breeze coming off the harbor. He opened a soda and handed it to her. She took a long pull, then wiped a stray drop of Coke off her lower lip. That insignificant drip brought back the ache he’d been fighting all day. This was not the time to try to kiss her. He’d just keep fighting the urge. He tore into his cheeseburger. “I’m sorry about today.” He mumbled around the food in his mouth and swallowed. “Interrupting you like that. I’m surprised you didn’t throw something at me.”

“I was tempted.” She unwrapped her burger and pulled it apart, plucking off the pickles and adding extra ketchup.

“What can I say.” Bear shrugged and passed her the fries. “It’s the draw of the working artist. Watching someone’s talent manifest is intriguing.”

Kay took half a dozen fries and set them next to her burger. “I don’t like people watching me. It completely throws me off. I’m too self-conscious.” She stared out at the water. “I get into a zone when I work. Hyper focused. I can’t do it any other way. Hours fly by. Sometimes days.” She wiped her fingers on a paper napkin and looked back at him. “Would you have a problem if I worked at night? My hours can get screwy anyway, and the inn is quiet. I won’t be interrupted by the crew or the phone or deliveries.”

“Or me.”

She nodded and gave him a smirk. “Or you. Just another benefit.” She patted his arm. “I’m teasing. I just think I’d get much more done.”

The last of the lobster boats was pulling into the harbor as the sun set, but the picturesque scene was lost on him. If he agreed to her suggestion, he’d hardly see her. “I don’t know how I feel about you being alone here at night.”

“Why? What’s going to happen?”

“I want to be sure you’re safe.”

“Bear, look around.” She swept a hand toward the water. “This is Bell Harbor, not LA. What could go wrong? Lobster riots?” Her hair shone golden in the fading light. “I’ll lock myself in. I’d be fine. If I can’t concentrate, this mural is going to take twice as long as it should, and be half as good. That’s not what you’re paying for and not what I signed on to do. I realize it isn’t the perfect plan, but if we can’t come to some agreement on this, maybe you need to hire on another artist.” She turned those beautiful dark eyes on him.

“Not an option.”

“So I can work at night?”

“Under one condition. You can’t be alone.”

She was quick to shake her head. “You staying here isn’t an option. No razor or not.”

“We’re not talking about me, but what about Shadow? He’s crazy about you, and he’s a great watchdog. I just installed a new kennel for him out back with a big doghouse. He could be in here with you while you work. I’ll set up his bed in the kitchen. Guaranteed he’ll sleep ninety percent of the time. All you’d have to do is kennel him before you leave. Make sure he has water. I feed him in the mornings. Take him for his run. Same as evenings. I’ll just drop him back here.”

“Sounds like we’re drawing up a custody agreement for your dog. Won’t he miss you?”

Bear shrugged a shoulder. “He’ll be with me all day.”

“It seems like an awful lot of running back and forth for you.”

“It’s only for a few weeks. I’m running back and forth most of the time now.”

Kay nibbled the end of a fry and was quiet as she contemplated. “It might work.”

“It will work. You agree to a furry night watchman, and I’ll get you a set of keys in the morning.” He lifted his Coke and held it up to her.

Kay picked up her drink and tapped the bottom rim of her can to his. “I think I could agree to that.”

“Fine. Night shift it is.”

She took a sip and smiled at him in the fading light. “You should have brought beer.”

Chapter Eight

Kay rode home after another long night. The mural was progressing. She was pleased, Bear was thrilled, and Shadow seemed none the worse for wear after he discovered she kept dog treats in her purse. If she could keep up this pace, she might finish the job ahead of schedule.

She was exhausted, but it was a good tired. You know, the brain-numbing fatigue when you finally crawl into bed but are content and satisfied with all you’d accomplished that day—or night.

Pulling into the parking space for the cottage, she met Dottie coming up the stairs.

“Hey! What a nice surprise.”

The two hugged. “Hey, yourself, stranger. I was out this way and hoped to catch you. I left a note on your door.”

Kay gathered up her bag and pulled her phone off the car charger. “I got your message. I’ve just been straight out the last few days.”

“I heard.” She rubbed Kay’s back. “Walter brings me progress reports every morning. Wants me to come see what you’ve done, but I want to wait and see it all finished.”

“Hopefully, you won’t have too long to wait. I’ve got everything broad sketched and cut in. I’m working one wall at a time, and it’s really coming together. I like it a lot.”

“I know Bear loves it.”

Kay nodded. “So he says.”

“You must be beat, but I wanted to talk to you. Got time for a quick cup of tea?”

“For you? Absolutely.” Kay led her down the stone steps and into the tiny blue and white gingham-trimmed kitchen. “Put the kettle on. I need to feed the cat.” She filled both the kettle and a bowl with fresh water.

“Cat? What cat?”

Kay scooped some kibble into another bowl and took them out to the back deck. “She showed up last week. Filthy and starving. I named her Hope. She seems to be sticking around.”

“As long as you feed her.”

“Won’t let me near her, but at least she’s coming up onto the deck now. We’ve made great progress.” Kay pulled tea bags, honey, and mugs from the cupboard. She joined Dottie at the kitchen table. “So what did you want to talk about?”

“I spoke to your mother the other day.”

Kay gave a silent groan and dropped into the chair. “And how is my mother?”

“She says she hasn’t heard from you since Christmas.”

“Has it been that long? Yes, I guess it has.” Kay got
the stare
. The kettle’s whistle saved her. Kay leapt up to take it off the heat.

“She didn’t know you’re staying here.”

Kay filled their cups. “Did you tell her?”

“It’s not my business to tell.”

“Good. Thank you.”

“It’s also not my business to lie.”

Dottie would never betray her, but Kay hated putting her in the middle. She was still her mother’s best friend. “You didn’t lie.”

“Not telling
is
lying.”

“Trust me, it’s easier this way. I’ll deal with her. Soon. Not now, okay?”

Dottie reached across the table and took her hand. “Honey, when are you going to lose that chip on your shoulder?”

Kay stood again and crossed to the sink. Soaping the sponge there, she began wiping down the small countertop. “It isn’t so much of a chip where my mother is concerned. It’s more like a drag chute.” She scrubbed at an invisible spot.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

She tossed the sponge back into the sink and wiped her hands. “A drag chute is the parachute that releases out of the back of a racecar to stop it in its tracks. It’s what she does. I’ll be moving along at a great speed, and it’s like my mother sucks the road right out from under my tires. She grinds me to a halt. And it takes way too much to get me back to the starting line, let alone back up to speed.”