Evan nodded eagerly, and I dashed down the stairs to get the supplies.
I knew my cream paint would be beautiful against the wood. I’d thought about turning this into my crafting room on more than one occasion, but then again, I liked my solarium. The windows, the big wooden table I’d inherited from my grandmother, and all the quaint little cabinets where I kept my herbs and spice jars were exactly to my liking.
I filled a bucket with warm soapy water and grabbed the sponge I kept with it in my cleaning closet. Not that I used it that often, but when several of my spells had gone awry, my mom and Al had ganged up on me and told me a messy house causedmessy spells, so I’d worked hard to improve my living space since then.
Evan had found an old broom and was sweeping down the cobwebs and dirty walls when I returned. Of course, dust was flying everywhere. I rushed to the windows and pushed them open. The wind immediately swept in and created a breeze.
“Damn, this is an amazing space!” Evan said as he watched the dust flow out of the room through the open windows. “I wonder if I can find some cheap see-through sheers because I want to see the breeze flow through them up here. Like—” His smile wavered. “Damn, I almost said like ghosts. Scratch that, I don’t want any more ghosts in my life.”
I winked at him and left him to it, that cute smile full of optimism and excitement. I needed to get out of the room quickly, or I’d do something stupid like kiss him. And my kiss would not be the chaste kind he’d given me last night. I had a feeling that if I ever started kissing him, I wouldn’t stop until—
The thought of what I wanted to do to him had me stifling a moan. It’d been a long time since I’d wanted a man as much as I wanted Evan. I didn’t have an issue with the occasional hookup, but when I truly liked someone, my desire for them could be intense.
That’d only happened to me a couple of times. Once in high school, when Deke was the object of my desire. Of course, a few kisses behind his grandpa’s barn had cooled that off. Thankfully, we both quickly realized we were better off as friends.
The second time had been Pedro, a Bolivian God in his own right. He was a self-appointed priest to the Goddess, although I didn’t learn until much later that he’d lied about that. In reality, he was a conservative Catholic boy who was still in the closet. Needless to say, after him, I’d put some serious boundaries around my dating life.
Correction, three times. I’d felt an intense desire three times in my life. Deke, Pedro, and now Evan. Only now, I didn’t know quite what do to with my attraction for my quasi boss turned housemate. Had we actually gone on a date last night? I’d offered to consider it one if he’d wanted, but he hadn’t brought up the subject again, and neither had I.
I found the paint, and my drill and paint mixer, pleased that the five-gallon bucket was still almost full, and the paint mixed back up beautifully. It seemed like it was meant to be since I was almost sure there would be more than enough to give the attic room at least two coats with some left over.
I washed off my paint mixer, grabbed the paint supplies, and headed back up. I walked into the room just in time to hear Evan singing something about coming home, some old folksy tune not unlike what Drew and his band sang last night. I guess this guy really was a big fan of that kind of music.
I didn’t go in right away. Instead, I stood outside and listened as his beautiful tenor voice carried around the room. He wasn’t just a good-looking man, he had the voice of a freaking angel too.
I felt my knees go a little weak as he hit a particularly high note and held it. Damn, I was in trouble, and by trouble, I meant I knew for a fact I was powerless against falling head over heels for Evan Garland.
25
Evan
Iwas so pleasedwe could get the room painted before lunch. I was always good at painting walls. Heck, my grandmother had changed the color of our trailer house, inside and out, about as quickly as it took the paint to dry.
I volunteered to put down painter’s tape while Cary fixed lunch. My thoughts strayed from the task at hand to other things, specifically Cary. We worked together companionably. He’d caught me singing when he came in earlier and hummed along as we worked. My family were musical people. Not especially talented, but we could carry a tune.
I’d tried joining the choir and even acted in a couple of musicals in high school, but it hadn’t come to much, and my ex even told me I sounded like a beached whale. I tried not to think about that. I loved to sing, and I knew I wasn’tthat bad.
I enjoyed working alongside Cary. I remembered the days when I’d help my dad paint wherever we ended up. We never had enough money for nice digs. In fact, more often than not, our family of three settled into an old trailer. Sadness swept overme as I thought of them. I hadn’t had that same feeling of family and connectedness since they’d passed.
Cary somehow made me feel that way again. I shook my head. It did no good getting attached to someone like Cary Beacroft. Handsome, smart, skilled, and a spellcasting witch, for goodness’ sake. He probably had ulterior motives for being nice to me, but right now, for whatever reason, I needed nice.
We could deal with the consequences later. I hoped when the other shoe dropped, which it always did with me and a man I liked, I could at least pretend I wasn’t seriously disappointed.
I finished putting down the painter’s tape and went downstairs to the kitchen, where Cary stood shirtless with his back to me. Dang, I thought I was wrong. I would get my heart crushed by that man… and right now, it totally seemed worth it.
26
Cary
Evan scrubbed the bedroomfloor three times before deeming it clean enough… for now. I disassembled the guest room bed, and he helped me carry the pieces up. After moving the frame at least seven times—more like a freaking dozen, but who’s counting?—he finally settled on putting it where we’d placed it the first time. If I’d known him longer, I was sure I’d have given him shit about that.
We brought the mattress up next, and I helped him make the bed. I had several old blankets I’d inherited when my grandmother passed. Mom was living in Florida with her new boyfriend in a fancy motorhome, so she didn’t have room for any of Grandma’s old stuff.
To me, all that stuff was as much home to me as any building I’d ever lived in. The blankets weren’t what you’d call pretty, but they were clean and warm. I was confident the blankets would keep Evan warm enough to be comfortable up here, even on the coldest and foggiest Oregon coast mornings.
Next, we went through the other bedrooms looking at furniture until he decided on a ratty-looking chest of drawers,but the drawers glided in and out easily. He asked if I minded if he painted it, and I just laughed. “It came with the cottage, and I would’ve tossed it, so do with it what you want. It’s yours, after all.”
That seemed to satisfy him, so we searched for other useful pieces for his bedroom. “This sweet old rocking chair came with the place too,” I told him when we entered the guest room at the back of the second floor. “It creaks and all, but it’s comfortable. I was going to put it on the front porch now the weather’s warming up, but if you’d like it in your room, we can take it up there.”
