SEAL the Deal(76)
Maeve couldn’t help the lump in her throat. “My God, that little tike. She’s got to hold on a little longer before making her debut.”
“Exactly.”
“I’m at my car now and on my way.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
Jack carried a cold six-pack of Cokes in from the kitchen, and tossed cans to Maeve, Lacey, and Mick. “You know, after smelling hospital smells all last night, this paint actually smells good to me.”
“You don’t like the smell of paint?” Feeling a wet drop on her cheek, Lacey wiped, smearing pink halfway across her face.
“No, do you?”
Lacey took a deep breath. “Oh, yeah. I love the smell.”
Mick laughed, opening Lacey’s can for her, and then using the bottom edge of his sleeve to wipe the paint from her face. His hand rested on her cheek one second longer than it needed to, and the simple touch sent a warm tingling down her neck. “You learn something new every day. Remind me to skip the perfume for a Valentine’s Day gift and give you a gallon of this instead.” He poured more Pink Paradise into her roller pan.
Appreciating the view as Mick bent over, a smile crept up Lacey’s face. The contours of his muscular back and arms through the thin Henley had a way of making the simplest action as sexy as hell.
“And this is the no-VOC paint,” Maeve added. “Imagine her with the hard stuff.”
“Oh, quit it and get back to work. We only have one day to get this done.”
“If Bess gets out of the hospital tomorrow,” Mick reminded her.
“If. But I’m optimistic. All the tests came back fine.”
“Need a hand here, Mick,” Jack said, holding up half the changing table. “Think you can handle some man’s work?”
Mick set down his pink-saturated paintbrush and shot him a glare. “If I were putting that thing together it would have been done an hour ago.” He picked up one end of the half-assembled piece. “All that nuclear training, and you can’t even put together a diaper changing table.” Letting out a slight grunt, he sat on the floor among the pieces of finished wood.
“A little trouble sitting down, old man?” Jack teased.
“Back’s a little sore from yesterday.”
Jack tossed Lacey a smirk. “Well, well. Now we know what you two were up to when you got back from the hospital.”
“It’s from shoveling, dumb ass. And I didn’t see you out there helping me with Maeve’s. Scared of a little hard labor?”
“If I throw my back out for Maeve, it’ll be doing something completely different from shoveling, believe me. Besides, it’s not that big of a driveway. Never would have imagined you’d need help. I could have had it done in a half hour.”
Lacey sighed. “Oh, boy, here we go.”
“Hmmm?” asked Maeve, her back facing them as she streaked her roller up against the wall.
“It’s the dick measuring contest again.”
Maeve turned immediately, then shot Lacey a disappointed look. “Damn, I thought you meant literally. They’re still clothed.”
Lacey laughed, glancing out the window as another cloud passed in front of the sun. “Hope those clouds don’t build till the electrician comes to install the chandelier. We really need the light.”
Maeve glanced at the clock. “We’ll be fine. He’ll be here in a half hour. Shouldn’t take him long either, if we stay out of his way.”
“Don’t see why you need an electrician for that. I’ve installed light fixtures before,” Mick offered.
“So have I,” Jack piped in, always in competition. “I’ve even installed dimmers.”
“Boys, boys. I’m sure you both could do it. But I’m not risking anything. Last place I need faulty wiring is in a baby’s room. Besides, the electrician is the hottest number since that lawn boy.”
Lacey made her face light up in feigned interest. “Really?”
Mick definitely noticed.
“Really,” Maeve answered. “Gay as a maypole, though, unfortunately. But still great to look at. Definitely a 10. What a waste.”
“Depends on your perspective. I’m sure his boyfriend doesn’t think it’s a waste,” Jack suggested diplomatically.
“Can’t wait to see what a 10 looks like,” Mick grumbled.
Lacey snickered. “Well, remember that lawn boy? He was a 9.”
Mick’s eyes met Lacey’s. “So what am I?”
Lacey and Maeve glanced at each other, and said in unison, “9 ½.”
Mick punched Jack in the arm. “Better than lawn boy,” he pointed out.
“9 ½?” Jack fired a look at Maeve. “Then what am I?”