Chapter 3 #2
Gibson backed up into Kay's driveway and got out of the cab to look up the tiny two-story house in the center of a street. It couldn't be more than eight or nine hundred square feet of space, but inside it felt big.
Well, big enough that he didn't have to duck when he went through doors. Then again, he hadn't been up to the second floor, so that might be a different situation.
A quick look at the property information told him that it had been built in Nineteen hundred. Making the house over a hundred years old, but it looked good on the outside and from what he'd seen on the inside it was still pretty good in there, too.
The first time he'd been there with her, he hadn't paid much attention to the outside of the house. He'd kept his gaze on Kay and yes, her amazing ass. Sure, she didn't wear body hugging clothing, but he could tell. It was the way she walked. The way she carried herself.
She said she wasn't athletic, but she was in shape.
He sat in his car wondering how he'd had the stones to ask her for her keys.
He still couldn't believe that she'd handed over her keys to him without more than a thought.
That, he told himself, was trust.
And he was going to be worthy of that trust.
Walking toward the back of the truck, he reached in to get his drop clothes and other supplies.
"Hey!"
He had to reach in and grab his bucket of paintbrushes, too.
"Hey, you!"
Gibson lifted everything clear of the back of the truck as he turned and saw an older man standing on the other side of the chain link fence on the east side of the property. "Hey."
The older man looked like he was making a visual study of his face. "You, ah... you supposed to be here, son?"
Gibson walked closer to the older man and nodded. "I stopped by the hospital and picked up Kay's keys from her. She's been trying to get some walls painted and just hasn't had the time."
The older man shook his head and tsked under his breath. "Doctor Kay is a real nice woman."
Nodding, Gibson smiled even more. "Yes. She is."
He lifted his hand and pushed the brim of his flat cap up so that they could both look each other in the eye. "She real pretty, too."
"Not news to me, Mister..."
"Mister Langston." The older man gave him a measuring look before he reached out his hand.
Gibson set the bucket down and walked over to shake his hand. "Gibson Braun."
"Braun, huh?" As they let go of each other's hands, the older man whistled low between his lips, likely stirring the ends of his bristled and patchy mustache. "Well, son, you've certainly got the muscle for that name."
"Yes, sir. I'm a firefighter."
A brushy brow lifted at that. "And a painter on the side."
Gibson stepped aside and gestured at the name painted on the side of his truck. Braun the Builder.
The older man chuckled as he leaned his forearms on the top of the chain link fence. "Catchy."
"It was my sister's idea," Gibson admitted. "She thought catchy was the way to go."
Mister Langston nodded, knowingly. "And you?"
It was Gibson's turn to laugh. "Every time someone calls, they say that the name caught their eye. That it was catchy and memorable."
With a finger snap, the older man laughed out loud. "You tell your sister that?"
Gibson shook his head. "No. If I did, she'd never let me live it down."
"Must be a younger sister."
Wow. "Yeah. She is." He looked at the older man and saw that he was just worried about Kay.
He wasn't there to be mean or cause trouble.
In short, the man was a good neighbor. "I can promise you, sir.
I'm here because she wants me to be. I'm just going to help her get some things done around the house.
I'm hoping to get the room painted before she comes back from her shift today. "
The older man stepped back with a smile. "Then don't let me hold you back none. I'm just going to go inside my place and put my feet up. If you need something, you can come on over and ask."
Gibson tilted his head back toward his truck. "You want to help me with the buckets of paint?"
The older man moved his hands to his lower back and groaned. "Oh... my back!"
Laughing, Gibson picked up his supplies. "Okay, okay. I'll see you later, Mister Langston."
"See you later, son!" The older man walked away with a spring in his step.
Inside, Gibson made quick work of laying out his drop cloths and taping things off.
He'd done it more times than he could remember, so he moved through the process with a practiced ease.
The walls had only had a primer coat when he'd visited the first time and Kay had admitted that she'd bought the house as a fixer upper, but hadn't know exactly what she'd gotten herself into.
He'd walked around the ground floor with her and found out that every room was painted with a primer.
It made it easier in the long run, but he could see that she wasn't pleased to hear the news.
He'd gotten the distinct impression that she realized that she'd bitten off more than she could chew and that wasn't something she wanted to admit, not just to him but to herself as well.
Gibson knew he could help her get the house finished, at the least painting the walls in short order, but he wasn't going to push.
He wouldn't mind helping her fix whatever else she had in mind, but that might involve him being in her space without her from time to time and while she'd seemed perfectly fine with him in her bedroom this time, he wasn't sure how much that would fly with her.
Maybe in time.
The first coat went on easily, the paint roller he used was a good one and he made quick work with it.
Being tall did have its benefits in matters like this, but it was the trim work at the bottom of the wall that posed a problem.
Still, he was able to get a second coat on and while it dried, he'd taken some time checking the doors and locks.
The house had indeed been built back in Nineteen Hundred, and that meant that taking care of her security and shoring up her safety wasn't going to be as simple as changing the locks.
The doors would have to be changed out and the door frames as well.
And that, he'd put on the list for things to address with her when she got home.
It wasn't just because he liked her, he wanted women to be safe in their homes.
It was why he'd started buying properties and turning them into safe places for women to live and rent. He'd rented to Pilar when she'd first come to Center City, and he was still renting to a number of first responders in the area.
He could do more in that vein if he wasn't working twenty-four hour shifts at the firehouse, but he couldn't give that up.
He had a responsibility to his truck crew, to the house, and to the people of Center City.
His phone trilled an alarm telling him that it was time to check on the paint in the bedroom.
As he walked back in, he had to admit that he was a little disappointed that there hadn't been any of her 'underthings' in sight. Not that he would have touched them, but he was kind of curious what she liked to wear.
Still, he had a feeling he might see them eventually.
God, he hoped so.
But before that. He had to talk Kay into letting him give her home some tender loving care. It was an old house, but those were the houses that he loved the most. It could be the perfect refuge for a woman who gave so much of herself to others.
He had the skills to make this house everything she wanted. He just needed her permission to do it.