Page 18 of Built to Last
“At the risk of asking a stupid question—why are we treating the wood if I’m painting it?”
Pleased she’s interested enough in the process to ask questions, I can’t help but smile which seems to be my default setting around this woman. Can’t say I mind. I wasn’t sure if she only accepted my offer to join me for this whole process just to be polite after our rough start. It’s a relief that she seems genuinely happy to be here.
“Definitely not a stupid question,” I rush to assure her. “The wood is porous so that means if we don’t seal it up the paint will be absorbed into the material and won’t look right. After a few coats to prep the wood, you’ll be able to paint it without any worries.”
“Got it.” Rose nods. “Thanks for explaining.” Standing, she drains the last of her coffee. I take her empty cup, giving both our mugs a quick rinse before leaving them in the sink to wash up properly later. Time to show Rose my workshop—the space we’ll be sharing for the next few weeks.
Chapter Ten
Rose
“Wow.”The word escapes me on a surprised breath before my brain has the chance to catch up to my mouth. Phillip chuckles, the sound warm and rich like the first hot chocolate of autumn.
“Not what you were expecting, huh?”
“No, it…” How do I tell him I’d been expecting something kind of dark and dingy, the exactoppositeof this, without sounding rude?
“It’s fine.” He leans against the doorframe that connects the workshop to his dining area, watching my shock as I take in the space. “Most people imagine something cold, grey, and cramped when I tell them I have a workshop in my garage.”
“Well, I stand corrected. This place is great.”
Phillip has taken advantage of being the last house on this side of the street by adding an extension to the side of the garage, making it double the usual size. The doors have square windows along the top half and each side of the space is illuminated by a carefully positioned skylight, resulting in a surprising amount of natural light.
“Thank you.” Phillip joins me in the centre of the room. “I spend most of my time out here so I wanted to create a space that’s pleasant to be in.”
The ivory-white walls house pine shelves and work surfaces in the back third of the room. Tools are mounted on the end wall and there are even drawers for smaller items to prevent clutter. The simple poured concrete floor is the only thing my imagination got right, and that just makes sense for a workshop. The space is neat and oddly inviting, much like what I’ve seen of the rest of his house.
“You definitely managed that, it’s not even that cold in here either,” I marvel. The lack of chill to the air is impressive given the outside temperature. Autumn has well and truly arrived in Riverbend and I’d pictured myself needing to stay in my coat while working out here, but the room is actually pretty cosy.
“I made sure the space had decent insulation when I put in the extension. Didn’t fancy freezing out here in the winter.”
“Smart man.” He grins at the compliment and I roll my eyes. “Come on, show me those plans you drew up.”
Phillip grabs a large roll of paper and spreads it out across one of the built-in workbenches. I cross the room to join him, standing just to his left so I can get a better look, and see he’s drawn up detailed plans with exact measurements. This close, I can feel the heat radiating from his body. The inexplicable urge to lean into his warmth almost gets the best of me and I shake it off.We’re here to work.
Refocusing on the plans before me, I listen intently as Phillip explains the minor changes he’s made. He points, showing me how the wheels will be affixed, and the left side of the paper starts to roll back in on itself. I reach out to hold it back down at the same time Phillip does, our hands connecting on top of the paper.
Turning my head to look at him, my apology dies on my tongue when the move brings our faces mere inches apart. Phillip’s cornflower-blue gaze meets mine over his left shoulder and my breath catches. He smells earthy with a hint of freshness,like pine and mint. Fighting the need to find a candle with that exact combination, I force myself not to inhale another greedy gulp of his scent. The heat from his large calloused palm covering mine is oddly comforting but the way the back of his flannel-clad arm brushes up against my breasts is anything but. Even though layers of clothing separate us, the accidental contact has me suppressing a shiver despite suddenly feeling rather warm.
“Um…” I glance down at where our bodies meet and Phillip’s eyes go comically wide.
“Oh!” He practically leaps away from me and I nearly lose hold of the paper in my surprise, slapping my hand down on it with a little too much force before it curls up again. “Sorry, I didn’t… I mean I wasn’t?—”
“It’s fine.” Desperate to move on, I clear my dry throat then continue, “Let’s finish this so we can get started.”
Phillip returns to my side, a crimson blush still staining his cheeks. It’s kind of endearing. He’s careful to leave enough room between us that even a Regency era chaperone would approve, while he finishes talking me through the plans.
After a couple of minor tweaks to the measurements, we’re ready to get started and I walk over to where I left my coat and bag.
“Are you cold? I can plug in the heater,” Phillip offers, noticing me tugging on my compression gloves.
“No, thanks though. These aren’t for the cold, they’re compression gloves,” I explain lifting my hands so he can see. The stretchy material hugs my wrists and hands, my fingertips peeking out the open ends. “They help stop my hands getting too sore when I’m doing something that requires dexterity like drawing.”
“That’s pretty cool. I’ve not heard of them before.” He tilts his head assessing. “They look a bit like the ankle support my friendBlake had to wear for a while when he twisted his ankle on a run.”
“It’s a similar idea.”
“What are the little dots for?” He winces. “Sorry, was that rude to ask?”
