Page 50 of Long Hard Fall

Chapter 14

Abbi stepped back to eye her handiwork. She worried her bottom lip. Would he be upset? Had she been too presumptuous when she’d found the gallon of paint and all the painting supplies in the closet of the guest room?

To be fair, he’d told her to make herself at home and a girl could only sketch so much. She studied the warm earth tone she’d painted on the walls. Whoever had chosen this color of taupe had a good eye. The woodwork came alive under something other than dingy white and before she’d started, she inspected the room. Someone had peeled off wallpaper.

The paint had almost begged her to slap it on.

Her hair was pulled back in a ponytail and she was stripped down to her undershirt, wearing a borrowed pair of what she hoped were old basketball shorts. Flecks of paint dotted her top and the shorts and she probably had a few smears on her face.

The oven beeped. She bounced out of the room to take the roast out. Whenever she thought of returning home, it cast a gray cloud over her day. This was nice. Wake up to breakfast cooked by a hot man, have some sex, putter around and paint, and fix supper out of whatever was around. Her creative juices were flowing and, god, she’d missed that.

She hadn’t even missed not having access to her phone. She’d shut it off since she’d already talked to Mom, and Ellis wouldn’t quit calling. She’d even texted him to stop and he’d said if she picked up he would. That’s when the power button had gotten hit.

For hours, she’d been lost in painting, had found a long lost part of herself. It wasn’t that she regretted what she’d gone to school for. It’d been a good, solid decision—her own decision. But she mourned having let her hobbies fall to the wayside while she’d dealt with life in the wrong ways. Instead of depending on Ellis, she should’ve whipped out her colored pencils until she figured it all out.

She heard men’s voices outside the window. She peeked out. Dillon was driving off and Cash was swaggering up the walk. So damn sexy. And he was all dirty and sweaty, probably skipped lunch. She bit her lip. Hopefully, he wouldn’t freak when he saw she’d painted without asking.

The front door opened. “Honey, I’m home.”

She probably glowed with those words as she went out to meet him.

He sniffed. “Did you cook? Lord, that smells delicious.”

“I figured I owed you two meals since technically you’re providing the food.”

He waved it off like it was no big deal and she believed him, had started to crave his easygoing nature.

“Um…but first can I show you something?”

He nodded but eyed her outfit, like he couldn’t place why she’d be streaked in paint.

She led him to the guest room. He whistled and took his hat off. The way his hair was crushed down from being in a hat so long was adorable.

“I hope it’s okay.” She crossed her arms and held her breath. If she got berated about having to ask first and plan, she’d understand. It wasn’t her house.

“You know how long that paint was sitting in the closet?” He wandered the room, looking around.

She shook her head, unable to read anything from his tone.

“Two years. I wasn’t even sure it was good anymore.”

She’d broken a sweat shaking it. “Do you mind that I went ahead and used it?”

“Of course I don’t mind. But I don’t expect you to work while you’re here.”

Her trepidation backed off and the tension drained out of her. “I want to. It was fun actually. Almost like one of those TV shows where I get to restore an old house.”

He smiled down at her, his blue eyes twinkling. “Well, there’s a lot of house here to restore. Go wild. I’m sure your taste is better than mine.”

“Not if you’re the one that picked out the color. It’s perfect.”

He chuckled. “It was Mom and Sissy’s way of hinting that I needed to do something to the place.” He grabbed her hand and led her out to the kitchen. “What’s the reason for that glorious scent? Did you raid my meat again?”

A groan escaped when his eyes landed on the counter where she’d set the food to cool.

“You’re amazing.” He pulled her in for a quick kiss before retreating to the bathroom to wash his hands.

She served him a heaping plate and filled her own. They ate and chatted about their day. He talked of fences in the south pasture, by the north quarter, and other directions she didn’t understand. Maybe they could go riding again so he could show her everything he was describing.

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