Page 25 of Coming Home to Wishington Bay
‘Sure. But in the meantime, it’s probably easier if I just help you.’
‘I don’t want—’
Before I’d even finished the sentence, Gabe had climbed a couple of the steps and was already unhooking the other curtain from the pole, the weight of it draped over one arm as he finished and held it out to me.
I let out a sigh. ‘Thank you.’
‘You’re welcome. Anything else I can do?’
‘No. That’s all, thank you.’
Gabe did the head-tilt thing again as I knelt on the floor and folded both the curtains, ripped and non-ripped into a pile, ready to take to the charity shop for their rag collection. ‘OK. Let me put that another way. Is there anything you plan to do that would be far safer if I helped you with it?’
‘No. There isn’t.’ I sat back on my heels and looked up. A long way up, as he was still standing. ‘But thank you. Sorry if I was a bit crabby. I know you’re just trying to help and I probably seem very ungrateful, but I’m just used to doing stuff by myself.’
‘Unsafely.’
‘To be fair, I don’t actually have cause to do a lot of DIY in London. There isn’t really the time, so if something needs doing, I tend to just get someone in to do it.’
‘You know, you could do that here too. We might not be as swanky as London, but we do have trades.’
‘Oh, very funny,’ I said, accepting the hand he held out to help me up with. ‘I know that. It’s just that I … I don’t know. I don’t really want to. Not at the moment anyway. Well, apart from ironing all the bed and table linens I’ve put aside to keep once everything is washed and dried. Although I guess that’s probably stretching the terms of DIY. But it is something I’m doing myself here, which I don’t back in London, just as a time-efficiency thing really.’
As if on cue, the washing machine sung out its happy little tune to announce that it had finished.
‘I’d better get them out. There are several more loads to get through.’ I headed towards the door and Gabe followed. Bryan, who had been happily basking in a patch of sunshine in the middle of my bed, realised that he might be about to miss out on something terribly interesting and jumped down, ran through both our legs and hurtled down the stairs just in case.
‘I’ll nip next door and grab you those steps.’
‘Thanks. Only if you’ve finished with them.’
‘Yeah, I’m done with them, thanks. I was just using them to do some of the lower windowsills. Talking of which, where do we stand on those now?’
I smiled. ‘The windowsills?’
‘Yes. The last time we discussed them, I seem to remember you saying you didn’t want me or my burglar prop paintbrush anywhere near your house. And I took you at your word.’
I ran a hand over my face. ‘Don’t remind me. You just startled me. The last thing I was expecting to see when I pulled the blind was a man looking back in at me.’
‘Believe me, when I climbed the ladder that morning, the last thing I was expecting was to see you in your undies.’
‘Oh God.’ I moved the hand back to cover my face.
Gabe laughed, gently taking my hand and pulling it away. ‘Holly, I’m a doctor. Believe me, I’ve seen it all.’
His very reasonable statement didn’t help lessen my embarrassment when I thought back to that morning.
‘Yes, but you haven’t seen my all. It’s different. And it’s still embarrassing.’
‘Why? It was just your undies. At some point, if the weather stays like this, I imagine you’re going to wander down for a swim in the sea. It’s no different to a bikini.’
Again, good point. But still not helping.
‘Anyway, with regards to the painting,’ I said, determined to change the subject to one that took the focus most definitely away from the fact that the most gorgeous man I’d ever met had seen a lot more of me than some men I’d dated. ‘I know you promised Gigi you’d look after things for her, and I’m so grateful to you for that, and for all the kindness you showed her. She really did adore you. But I know you don’t have a lot of spare time and when you do, the last thing you want to be doing, I’m sure, is slapping gloss paint on a windowsill.’
Gabe looked mildly affronted. ‘I’ve never “slapped” paint on anything in my life.’
Remembering how neat and tidy a job he had already done, I quickly amended my words. ‘No, of course not. It was just a turn of phrase. It’s actually a heck of a lot better than some professionals I’ve had in to do stuff. Maybe I should hire you up in town next time?’
