Christmas Wishes and Mistletoe Kisses(68)

“You asked once, how would I show someone I cared if I didn’t have my money to fall back on; remember that? Well, my money won’t help us tonight. So, I’m painting with you. Because I care.” He pushed the roller back and forth, filling it with paint and put it on the wall. “Just go up and down?”

With her tears still present and a smile on her face, she nodded. “Like this,” she said, moving her roller up and down at a slight angle. “Thank you,” she said as they both started to paint.

They both painted quietly, their rollers making wet, spongy noises against the wall. Abbey noticed how much more quickly it was going with two people, not to mention that Nick’s height allowed him to cover more of the wall with his strokes. He was also able to get up near the ceiling around the crown molding that she couldn’t reach. She’d shown him how to avoid brush strokes by going around the doorframe. After a few practices there, he’d done the area by the ceiling with ease.

As they finished the last wall, Nick said, “The color isn’t that bad.” He stopped and took a step back to look at it. Abbey turned toward him and laughed.

“What?”

She laughed again at the sight of him. “You have paint on your nose.”

Nick tried to wipe it off, only smudging more across his cheek.

“Now it’s on your cheek.”

“Well, we match then. Except you have some on your forehead as well.”

She walked over to him and looked up into his eyes sweetly. Then she dragged her hand across his forehead, making a large, gray streak. “Now we match,” she said.

He took a step back, a suspicious look on his face as she bent down, pretended to cover her roller, and wiggled her fingers around in the paint. He lifted his T-shirt to wipe his face. When he did, he revealed his bare chest and waist, the sight of it causing her to drop her roller. Paint splashed up on her, dousing her shirt with gray. He laughed, clearly realizing what had happened.

“Why did you drop your roller?” he asked.

“I was finished with it,” she said, having trouble making eye contact.

“Well,” he chuckled again, obviously seeing through her answer. “Now you have paint on your neck and your face. Would you like me to wipe it off with my T-shirt?” he asked, barely able to get the words out without laughing.

She faked a serious expression and turned away from him, glad the paint was covering her blushing cheeks.

“So, is this room finished now?” he asked, changing the subject.

She turned around. “I still want to fix the woodwork in that ornament on the ceiling.”

“Where?” He tilted his head back to look up at it.

“There,” she pointed at the spot.

“I don’t see it.”

“How can you not? It’s right there?”

“That little break?”

“Yes.”

“No one will see that. Don’t worry yourself with it.”

“They will if they’re lying in bed.”

“They’ll be sleeping.”

“What if they aren’t? They’ll see it.”

“Where’s the bed going to go?” he asked.

“Here.” She walked over to the spot where she’d planned to place the king-sized four-poster bed. “Look.” She lay down on the drop cloth and patted the area of floor beside her. “Come lie down and look at it. It’s an eyesore.”

Nick lay down beside her, their shoulders touching, and stared at the ceiling. “Are two people really going to be sleeping like this? Like statues?”

Abbey laughed.

They stared at it for a while, and Abbey could feel the drop of her eyelids and the silence that was settling upon them. It was nearly four in the morning now, and neither of them had stopped for even a breath. She let her eyes close.



* * *



Abbey was aware of the birds outside her window and the chemical smell of paint. She tried to open her eyes but they wouldn’t budge. She was too tired. Had she slept in the bed with paint still on her? Was she ruining the sheets? She forced her eyes to open and gasped. Nick stirred under her. They were still on the floor of the bedroom. As she tried to move, she had an ache in her hip and her lower back from sleeping on the wooden floor. Nick had his arm under her neck, his hand on her shoulder, and she was lying half on top of him and half on the floor. When she attempted to sit up, her shirt pulled away from her, causing her to stop and look down.

“Morning,” he said with sleepy eyes. She wanted to take in the adorable way he was looking at her, but she was in a slight panic as her shirt pulled further down her body. His eyes slid down her neck and she wriggled down to keep him from seeing anything else.