4. Start To Believe It
4
START TO BELIEVE IT
T he skidding of the tires had Charlotte turning her head and groaning more over having a witness to her klutziness than the fact she dropped the ladder on her foot, then tripped and stumbled to the ground.
“Are you okay?” the man asked as he got out of his SUV.
“I’m fine,” she said, standing up and brushing the dirt off of her jeans. “Just tripped over my own two feet.”
“Let me get that for you,” he said. “Unless you’ve got someone else that could do it.”
She laughed. “If I had someone else that could do it, I wouldn’t have just broken a nail.”
He looked at her hands. “They look fine to me.”
“Just a figure of speech,” she said and went to reach for the ladder again.
He got it before her and lifted it easily enough. Considering he was a lot bigger than her and had more muscle than she could have imagined when she’d seen him in his vehicle, she wasn’t complaining in the least.
“Where do you want this?” he asked.
“If you can put it on my deck, that is fine,” she said. “I’ll get it in the house.”
She was thrilled the previous owners had left the ladder in the shed along with an old lawn mower and snowblower.
Two things she’d never used a day in her life and would have to figure out when the time came.
Maybe.
It was one thing to be independent and another to be stupid and hurt herself when she could pay someone else to do it.
“I can bring it in if you want,” he said. “You’re liable to just put a hole in the wall if you drop it in that tiny place.”
She laughed. “Have you been in the house before?”
“Twice,” he said. “I should have bought it and then I’d have no neighbors.”
“Geez,” she said. “Thanks for that. Just set the ladder down here and I’ve got it so you can get on with your day.”
He seemed shocked by her sarcasm and then flushed. “Sorry,” he said. “Just got done having a big Easter dinner with my family. I’ve had a lot of family interaction in the past few days so I might be a little raw.”
She started to laugh. “Okay. I’ll give you a pass because if I had to spend time with anyone other than my sister today, I’d be feeling the same way.”
Charlotte wasn’t even bothered she was alone today. It gave her time to paint her office. She thought she did a pretty darn good job too until she realized she couldn’t reach the ceiling even standing on a chair.
Guess she should have figured that out before she started.
He snorted and followed her up the deck. The minute she opened the door, Marco was ready to bolt and she grabbed him.
“Where do you want this?”
“My office in the front,” she said. “Well, it’s supposed to be a third bedroom, but it barely fits my desk and doesn’t have anything remotely close to what I’d call a closet.”
The three drawers built into the wall didn’t count in her eyes. Nor the cabinet above it that might hold ten shirts on hangers.
He followed her through the house moving the ladder much more efficiently than she could have done.
She stepped aside and let him go into her new office.
He set the ladder down against the wall after he reached out to see if the paint was dry. “It’s a nice color,” he said.
“I wanted something soothing,” she said. “I’m normally more on the girly side, but pink wasn’t the way to go. This reminds me of a tropical ocean.”
It was a light bluish green. Not aqua or teal. She wasn’t sure what color it was or could be. It just called to her and she went with it rather than overthinking things to death as she was famous for.
“You might want to put painter’s tape around your windows if you’re going to paint more rooms,” he said.
She looked up to see all the paint on the white molding that had been new in the house.
Crap. She hadn’t noticed that before.
“I suppose now might be a good time to say it’s the first I’ve painted a room.”
He looked as if he didn’t believe her. “Really?”
She shrugged. “I’ve always lived in apartments and they did it or asked us not to.” No reason to say if she wasn’t in apartments alone, she was with men that owned the place and they did the work or hired someone.
She was doing things for herself now.
“True,” he said.
“I should go get some of the tape. They carry it in Home Depot, right?”
“Sure,” he said. “But I bet they are closed today.”
“I forgot it’s a holiday. I wanted to get this done so I could get the rest of my space set up to get to work tomorrow.”
“You’re working remotely?” he asked.
“Yes. I’ll go to New York City a few times a month, but otherwise, I’m here. Going to be a big change for me, but I’m looking forward to it.”
If she said that to herself enough, she’d start to believe it.
Amanda was right. She was used to being around people and it could get lonely sitting in her office daily with only Marco.
But the few days she’d lived here, she hadn’t had enough time to be lonely. She was too busy figuring things out, where to go to buy food, let alone paint. Not to mention training a new puppy.
“I have some at my place if you want to finish today.”
“That’d be great,” she said. “I’ll buy it off of you.”
“Not a big deal,” he said. “I’ll be right back.”
He left before she could stop him and turned to put Marco down. “He’s a bit grouchy, isn’t he?”
Marco barked and then squatted and peed on her wood floor causing her to curse and rush to clean it up before her neighbor returned.
She didn’t even know his name!
She was spraying Lysol in the air when she heard knocking at her back door.
“Come in,” she yelled.
“Don’t you want to know who is at your door before you let them in?” he asked.
She should have done that. “I assumed it was you. And speaking of you. I don’t even know your name.”
“Foster,” he said, handing over the tape.
First name only, so she’d do the same.
“Charlotte,” she said, reaching her hand out. “It’s nice to meet you and I appreciate you being neighborly and all considering you wanted to buy the house so you had no one around.”
He snorted at her and she found it adorably sexy.
His hair was a bit longer and unkempt. The wind had done a number on it for sure. Or maybe he was one of those hot frustrating guys that always ran his fingers through it.
He had facial hair that wasn’t trimmed but not long. More like he just let it go for a day or so.
His eyes were dark and assessing her in a way men didn’t normally do.
Most men looked at her as if she was some silly blonde that needed to be on their arm. A good time and short term.
There was nothing sexy or frilly about her in old jeans and sneakers, a T-shirt too big and hanging mid-thigh to cover her jeans. Her hair was in a messy bun on her head, a red bandana over it to prevent any paint from landing there.
Not that she thought paint from the wall was going to end up in her hair, but considering there were streaks all over the walls now that it was drying too, anything was possible.
“You know, if you roll in a W or N pattern, you can prevent streaking. And don’t have too much paint on the roller either.”
“Huh?” she asked.
“Let me show you,” he said. He walked over to her paint can and looked down. “This needs to be mixed better too.”
“They mixed it when I got it.”
“When did you buy it?” he asked, putting the lid back on, then pounding it down with his fist. He picked it up and started to swirl it in his hands in some soft motion. Not what she expected him to do.
At first he looked more like the type to ram and shake something. Not have a gentle touch.
“Yesterday,” she said.
“It settles then,” he said. He pried the lid off. “Do you have a stick to stir it?”
“Somewhere,” she said. She moved over to the bag that the rollers and brushes were put in and pulled it out. “I wasn’t sure why he gave it to me.”
“To stir the paint,” he said drily.
No need to comment. She’d already said she’d never done this before and she was willing to learn.
“Wish I knew that before,” she said.
“Don’t put a ton into the tray either,” he said. “You already trimmed around the windows.”
“Not very well,” she said.
“You said it, not me.”
“But you want to,” she said, laughing.
She noticed there was some humor in his eyes, but it didn’t reach his face enough for him to smile.
Bummer. She’d bet he was pretty handsome if he smiled.
He poured some paint into the plastic pan. “Lightly coat the paint on the roller. It’s not a race to get it done fast.”
She watched him form the letters W and N with the motion of the roller on her walls and go much higher than she’d been able to do. He wouldn’t need a ladder.
“Wow,” she said. “Much better than I did. But now I’ll have to do two coats for the area I couldn’t reach.”
“You’re going to tape your ceiling, right?”
“Tape it?” she asked.
“Do you want to repaint your ceiling?”
“No,” she said.
“Considering how well you did around the windows, I’d recommend taping the ceiling.”
She frowned. Before she could say anything, he pulled the chair over and stood on it with the tape in his hand and started to move around the room taping it all before she could have figured out how to even stick the stuff.
“Why does it look so easy when someone else does it?” she asked.
“I’ve done this a lot in my life,” he said. “Give me that brush.”
“Why?” Nothing like not being polite.
“Because this room is so small and I’m up here, I’m going to cut it for you.”
“You’re going to cut my wall?” she asked.
He squinted at her. “A figure of speech in painting. Hand me the brush and hold the can of paint.”
“When you ask that nicely,” she said, “how can I say no?”
“Your sarcasm is just like one of my sisters.”
He started to paint, then got down and moved the chair while she followed him. Thankfully Marco was napping in his bed in the living room, having lost interest.
“How many sisters do you have?” she asked.
“Two,” he said.
“I’ve got one.”
“So you said,” he said.
Not much of a talker.
She was never so happy that this room was small because he was done very quickly with the trim around the ceiling.
“Thanks,” she said. “Guess I didn’t need the ladder after all.”
“You will if you plan on doing more rooms in the house. If not, I’ll just carry it out for you and put it back.”
“I do want to paint more,” she said. “I don’t like everything being white, but I haven’t decided on the colors. So you can just leave the ladder in the house.”
“You want to try to put some on the walls while I’m here?”
“So you can tell me if I’m doing it wrong?” she asked, lifting an eyebrow.
“Sorry,” he said. “I’m overstepping. Part of the reason I’m better off alone.”
She hated that her joke made him feel bad. “Don’t be sorry. I appreciate everything you’ve done. I’ve never had anyone take the time to show me things. They’ve always done it for me. I’m just trying to do for myself now.”
He nodded his head but didn’t say anything else.
Charlotte picked up the roller and moved it as he had and saw right away how much easier it was with less paint on it.
“Looks good,” he said.
“Thanks,” she said. “Sorry I took up your time.”
“Don’t worry about it,” he said. “Have a good night.”
He was turning to walk out before she could offer him a drink.
Guess he really did want to be alone.