Joyfully His(Sterling Canyon Book 4)(8)

Hell. That might be a little embarrassing. He shrugged, unable to think of a snappy comeback.

When she rubbed her elbow again, he skied beside her and leaned in. “Go get that checked before you make it worse. What if you tore a ligament?”

“It’s not torn.”

“Didn’t know you had X-ray vision.” He shook his head. “At least take something for the swelling and pain.”

“I can handle the pain.”

“Hardhead.” He playfully knocked his fist on her skull.

Over her shoulder, Andy saw Billy B standing outside the ski-school doors, watching them. Andy waved, but Billy sent him a “told you so” smirk before walking away.

#

“Rocky Road? Come on, Amy. You know I’m trying to be good.” Nikki lifted the half-gallon ice-cream container from the grocery cart and handed it to her sister.

“I’m not.” Amy tossed it back in the cart and pushed away from the freezer.

Of course Amy wasn’t trying to be good. She didn’t need to. Amy took after their petite mother, who could eat buttered popcorn every night and never gain an ounce. Nikki had inherited her dad’s genes. She shouldn’t complain, because her strong, capable body had never let her down. But she had to watch her diet to avoid piling on the weight.

“Anyhoooo, I picked up the paint and supplies today,” Amy announced as they rounded the end of the aisle, her head bopping to the beat of “Jingle Bell Rock,” which was playing throughout the store. “Let’s get it done tonight. No excuses.”

Nikki rubbed her still-tender elbow. Forty-eight hours later and still sore. She didn’t want to be a wuss, but she didn’t want to aggravate it, either. “I might need until tomorrow to let this elbow heal completely.”

“I really want to get it done before Christmas Eve. Tomorrow is your company party, and Christmas Eve is the next day. I know you—you’ll be last-minute Christmas shopping that day.” Amy grabbed a bag of Ritz crackers, too.

Great—more carbs to resist. And, yes, she did still have last-minute shopping to do. She let loose a sigh.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t plan on this.” Nikki held up her arm yet couldn’t help but smile. Racing Andy had been fun—no regrets.

“Aren’t you getting a little old to be racing your staff, Nik? You’d think after all the bone breaks and other injuries that you’d stop that stuff.” Amy shook her head.

Nikki didn’t take offense. She knew her sister genuinely didn’t understand her competitive nature or her love for the mountain. Amy skied for pleasure, happily cruising the blue runs with friends, mostly killing time until she could flirt with a lift operator or some handsome vacationer at an après-ski lounge. She didn’t ski for the thrill of the wind in her face or the sense of mastery that came with each new run.

As for the scar, of course most of the time Nikki wished it weren’t there. People noticed it, although it looked better now than it had a decade ago. Lots of people suffered much worse injuries and problems, so she wouldn’t complain. Her face really shouldn’t matter that much in the greater scheme of life. Someday someone would love her for who she was, not how she looked. Hopefully.

“Oh, speaking of Andy, there he is.” Amy pointed toward the checkout line, her face brightening before she called, “Hey, Andy!”

He turned around and waved when he saw them, new Santa cap in hand. “Ladies.”

Amy steered the cart right behind him. “I ought to be mad at you for injuring Nikki.” Her flirtatious tone made Nikki wince, but Andy didn’t react. “Now she can’t help me paint.”

Andy slid a look at Nikki, then said, “I told your sister I’m happy to help.”

“Oh?” Amy frowned at Nikki. “She never mentioned that to me. I’ll tell you what. You help me paint, and I’ll cut your hair for free.”

Oh, no, no, no! Nikki wasn’t ready for Andy to be in her apartment. It seemed somehow too intimate, which was ridiculous.

“Deal.” He grinned. “Where and when?”

Oh, dear.

“Tonight. Two-eight-seven-four Canyon Shadow Road, apartment two B.” Pert Amy’s little shoulders straightened.

“Or not two B,” he teased.

Nikki shook her head at the lame joke. “You don’t need to help. I can manage.”

“You just said your elbow hurt.” Amy scowled. Nikki felt her face heat.

“It’s no problem.” Andy set his few items on the conveyor belt.

“What time?”

“Seven o’clock?” Amy suggested.

He swiped his credit card. “See you then. Enjoy your dinner.”

After he’d signed for his things, he stuck the cap on his head and winked at them, then exited the store. Nikki waited until Andy disappeared before whapping her sister on the shoulder. “Why’d you do that?”

Amy frowned. “Why do you care? I thought he was your friend? He said he’s happy to help.”

When Nikki scowled, Amy defended. “I’m going to cut his hair, so it isn’t like he gets nothing out of it.” She started emptying their cart, murmuring, “Can’t wait to run my hands through those silky locks.”

Jealousy carved through Nikki like a freshly honed ski edge. Yet, she wasn’t willing to put her hat in the ring with Andy and risk rejection again, so how could she demand Amy refrain from trying?

She didn’t have time to worry about it. Now she needed to get home and clean the apartment before he saw how messy she was. Gah, the daily struggle to be neat. Epic fail.

#

Nikki had to admit that watching Andy’s arms flex as he rolled blue paint on her walls wasn’t the worst thing that could’ve happened. Maybe Amy’s plan had been inspired, after all. After spending two hours watching him paint this room, she wasn’t sure if the fumes or merely looking at Andy had caused her temporary high.

She sat on the edge of the recently vacuumed carpet, touching up the trim around the door to the kitchen while he painted the wall to her right.

They’d pushed the furniture and stuff toward the center of the room and carefully repositioned the small Christmas tree in the archway that led to the kitchen. Amy’s contribution to the effort consisted of playing Martina McBride’s Christmas album, making cocoa and baking cookies to impress Andy, and congratulating herself on the “fabulous” color choice. After all that “hard work,” she’d stepped away for a “short break.”

For the most part, Andy hadn’t been responding to Amy’s flirtations the way most men did. Nikki presumed Amy’s little break meant she’d either gone to plot a new approach or that she’d given up and was on her phone making plans with friends.

“We’re almost done,” Nikki remarked, feeling strangely tongue-tied with Andy so close and in her personal space. She wondered what he thought of her apartment.

Neither she nor Amy made much money, so they’d furnished the tiny unit with hand-me-downs and knickknacks people were giving away on Freecycle. The only artwork on display was of the homemade variety—photograph collages and some of Amy’s paintings from a watercolor class she’d taken two years ago. That and Nikki’s wind-chime collection, which they’d also had to take down before starting to paint.

“Nik, you know these don’t work indoors, right?” Andy had joked while unhooking one from the ceiling and setting it in the plastic bin she’d found at the bottom of her closet.

“I know. I love them, and I guess I keep hoping someday I’ll have a place surrounded by trees, with a front porch and a back porch. Then these will always be singing.”

“Sounds like a nice dream. Hope it comes true.” His expression had turned solemn.

“Me too.”

The one good thing about her current, if tight, quarters was the way it smelled. Amy had a thing for scented candles, and lately she’d stocked the place with some cinnamon-mandarin-pine scented candles that fit the season.

Then again, right now the whole place smelled like paint.

“Told ya we’d bang this out quickly.” He dipped the roller in the tray and then attacked the final unpainted section of the wall.

Nikki nodded. “I didn’t think I’d like this bold color, but, surprisingly, it makes the space look at lot more put together.”

Andy smiled down at her. “And it matches your eyes perfectly, just like I guessed.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment.” She stood, having finished the trim.

“You should.” He rolled another swath of paint high and low, and she continued to spy on him and those corded muscles.

When he finished the final strokes, he stood back and glanced around. “It looks a lot better than that drab beige color. What is it with all the apartments in town having beige walls?”

“Goes with everything, I guess.” She shrugged.

“I’m used to living with Avery. Even this color wouldn’t be bold compared to the Mexican piñata color scheme we’ve got going on at the house.”

Nikki savored that tidbit of personal information, having always wondered about his house.

“Is it weird living with Grey and Avery?” She knew Avery and Andy had bought their parents’ house years ago, but now the odd threesome must have been experiencing growing pains.