“To paint or not to paint?” Maurie muttered as she scrolled through Pinterest and lounged on her bed.
“Did I hear the word paint?” Taffy asked, coming into Maurie’s bedroom.
Somewhere in the house, a drill was buzzing. Grant was hard at work as usual. In the three days he’d been working on her place, the transformation was already noticeable.
Maurie angled her laptop screen to show Taffy. “What do you think about a robin’s-egg blue for the trim work inside the shop?”
Taffy sat on the edge of the bed and considered the Pinterest image that was of a cozy café somewhere in Seattle. Maurie loved the blues and yellows of the café.
“I love it,” Taffy pronounced. She folded her arms. “There’s also a lonely man out there. What did you do to him?”
Maurie sat up. “What do you mean? What did I do to him?”
Taffy narrowed her eyes. “You said your date the other night was wonderful, yet you’re always in here or at the shop when he’s over. Go in there and talk to him, girl. That hunk of a man will not remain single for long.”
Exhaling, Maurie rubbed her forehead.
Taffy touched her arm. “What’s wrong? Was he a jerk, and you didn’t want to say something?”
Maurie dropped her hand. “No, nothing like that. In fact, he’s the complete opposite. He asked me to go skiing, and well, I guess I’m sort of avoiding telling him no.”
“I don’t get it...”
“It’s dumb, really,” Maurie said.
“Tell me,” Taffy said. “I’m sure it’s not dumb. Besides, you know I’m going to get it out of you anyway.”
“Right,” Maurie said with a small smile. “It’s just that ... when I lived in Pine Valley, I watched all the other kids do stuff that I couldn’t do, or my mom wouldn’t let me do. I used to tell myself those things weren’t fun anyway. They were boring or dangerous. Skiing or sledding would be too freezing to try. I didn’t have a winter coat, let alone snow boots. Hot chocolate at the gas station was gross. The school dances were lame. Hiking and picnics with other teens would be too awkward. And that I could never afford a cute enough swimsuit to go swimming in the lakes.”
“Oh, hon,” Taffy said.
Maurie’s eyes burned. “My therapist told me it was my coping skill.” She shrugged. “If I go skiing and find that I love it and that it’s not boring, then...”
Taffy nodded. “Then you’ll realize what you really did miss out on as a kid.”
Throat tight, Maurie said, “Exactly.”
Taffy pulled Maurie into a hug. Maurie closed her eyes and kept her breathing calm and even. It was a trick her therapist had taught her. When things and memories or regrets seemed too overwhelming, she should focus instead on simply breathing.
When Taffy pulled away, her eyes were moist. “Here’s the thing,” Taffy said. “When you’re forty, you’ll look back on your twenties and thirties and regret not doing things now.”
Maurie frowned. “What do you mean?”
“You’ve got a hot man in your living room who’s been through a lot of crap too,” Taffy said in a hushed voice. “Not as much as you, of course, but crap nonetheless. Go skiing with him. Have fun. Do it for that sad little girl who used to live in this house. Show her you’re strong and it’s never too late to live out dreams. Maybe you’ll hate skiing, or you’ll love it. Doesn’t matter. At least you’re living. You’re the new Maurie. And adding Grant Shelton into the mix isn’t a bad idea either.”
Maurie blinked against the stinging in her eyes. “You should be a therapist.”
Taffy burst out laughing, and Maurie joined in. Then their laughter faded, and Taffy nudged Maurie. “There’s a man in our house.”
Maurie snickered. “I get it. I get it.” She closed her laptop and climbed off her bed. Leaving Taffy behind, Maurie walked into the hallway. The drilling had stopped, and the front door opened and shut.
Had Grant left?
Maurie moved to the living room and peered out the window. Grant’s truck was still in front of the house, and he was sorting through a box or something in the bed of his truck.
He straightened and turned, then headed toward the house. Maurie moved out of the line of vision from the window so he wouldn’t see her watching him.
She entered the kitchen just as the front door opened. Turning to see him, she tried to act casual. “Hi.”
Grant shut the door, then looked over at her. “Hey.”
His blue gaze connected with hers, and a warm shiver traveled along her arms.
“How’s it going?” she asked, a bit lamely.
His mouth quirked, but he didn’t laugh. “Excellent. Want to see the hallway closet?”
“Sure.” Did she sound breathless? She felt breathless.
Grant led the way to the hall closet, as if she needed to be guided. He’d replaced the door yesterday, but she hadn’t looked inside yet.
He opened the door, and Maurie gazed at the repaired wall, new shelf, and rod. With the new doorframe and door, the closet looked brand new. “All that’s left is the paint and carpet.”
“I like painting,” Taffy said, appearing in the hallway.
Grant smiled over at her. “You’ll have to ask the boss.” Then he winked at Maurie.
Taffy walked toward them, then paused in front of the closet, standing on the left side of Maurie so that she had to step back, which put her closer to Grant.
She didn’t know how he managed to stay smelling nice throughout his long workdays.
“I love it,” Taffy said. “You do nice work, Grant.”
“Thank you.” His deep voice rumbled in the stillness.
“Well, back to work,” Taffy said in a singsong voice, casting a talk-to-him glare at Maurie. Then Taffy headed down the hall and shut the door to her bedroom. Seconds later, music started to boom.
Maurie took a step away from Grant, putting some distance between them. “I agree with Taffy,” she said, her voice sounding all trembly and nervous. “You do nice work.”
Grant rested a hand on the doorframe and nodded. His blue eyes were intent on hers, and Maurie knew he hadn’t missed the nervous pitch in her voice. He was a detail-oriented construction worker, after all.
“Have you been avoiding me, Maurie?” he asked in a low voice.
Her insides felt mushy, and her throat tight. “I’ve been really busy, Grant, you know with the store and all.”
He nodded. And waited.
Maurie puffed out a breath. “I haven’t been avoiding you, at least not purposely.”
One of his brows lifted. He wasn’t buying it.
“All right.” She shoved her hands into her jeans pockets because they were sort of trembling. “I will go skiing with you.”
Surprise flashed across Grant’s face, and he straightened. “Really?”
A lightness bubbled through Maurie. “Really. I’ll make a total fool of myself, and you’ll get plenty of entertainment, but I’ll go.” She paused a heartbeat. “With you.”
Grant’s smile was slow. Warm.
And then he moved toward her. He was getting close, so close.
Maurie backed up, but she only bumped into the wall.
Grant rested a hand on the wall, inches from her head. He smelled of clean soap and a little spice. “I’m glad you changed your mind.”
“I didn’t exactly say no,” Maurie said.
Grant’s gaze dropped to her mouth. “I figured the avoiding me thing meant you didn’t want to go. You could have said no. Plain and simple.”
“I could have,” Maurie said. “Sometimes things are complicated.” Her pulse was acting wild, and she was sure that Grant could hear her heart pounding. He wasn’t even touching her, yet she felt the warmth of his skin against hers.
“Skiing doesn’t have to be complicated,” Grant said.
Maurie exhaled. “Stop looking at me like that.”
“Like what?”
“Like you want to kiss me.”
Grant’s lips curved. “I do want to kiss you.”
Maurie was pretty sure she was blushing furiously. And then he did kiss her. Maurie grasped the fabric of his shirt and dragged him closer. He came willingly, pressing against her, until she was pinned between the wall and his body. Not that she minded. It was quite heavenly.
His mouth explored hers, slow and deliberate, as if he’d been wanting to kiss her, but he was also aware that Taffy was still in the house.
Maurie breathed in everything that was Grant Shelton. His scent, his warm skin, the stubble along his jaw, the way his hands gripped her hips and didn’t seem to be letting go anytime soon.
“Grant,” she whispered against his mouth. “You must really like skiing.”
He chuckled, his chest rumbling against hers. And then he kissed her jawline ever so slowly, trailing kisses and creating a path of fire to her neck.
“I should ... get back to work,” Maurie said, placing her hand against his chest. His firm, muscled chest. “And so should you.”
Grant smiled against her neck. “Is that an order, boss?”
“It is.”
He kissed her neck, then lifted his head. His eyes were even bluer than she remembered. “Tomorrow?”
“I don’t have any, uh, ski equipment.”
Grant released her then stepped back. He scanned her from head to foot. “You can borrow my sister’s stuff. It should fit.”
“I don’t want to put her out—” Maurie started, but Grant cut her off with a stern look.
“We’ll go around four and get in a couple of hours before it’s dark,” he said. “It will be less crowded.”
Maurie swallowed. “Okay.” She missed the warmth of Grant’s body, but she couldn’t continue to maul him in the hallway. At least not with only two inches of wood separating them from Taffy.
Grant grasped her hand and squeezed. “It will be fun,” he said. “And if you get too cold, the lodge has hot chocolate. I mean, hot cocoa.”
The lump in her throat was the size of Texas. “As long as your sister doesn’t mind.”
“She won’t,” Grant said. “I’ll bring over the stuff in the morning, and you can try it all on.”
“Sounds good.” For a second, Maurie thought he might kiss her again. But he released her hand and stepped away. Was it terrible for her to want him to kiss her again? To not want to let him go? Don’t get so attached, she told herself. Breaking things off with Brandon had been hard enough. She’d learned a lot about herself, about how to keep her identity separate from another person’s. Grant Shelton was pretty amazing, but like Taffy said, he had his own crap.
“I’m going to get that light fixture replaced,” Grant said, looking back into the closet.
Apparently he was being very obedient and getting back to work.