He’d scared her, she could admit that. The quick, firm tap on her shoulder when her mind had been on painting and music. The equally quick and firm hand on her butt.
She’d have caught her balance, probably.
He’d backed off when she’d told him, easily, signaling he was harmless.
But he wasn’t harmless. Despite the easy talk about paint and wallpaper, he wasn’t harmless. He had strong blue eyes, very directand something behind them warned that he wasn’t a man to trifle with.
She had no intention of trifling with Xander Keaton.
He might have had a runner’s build, but there was a toughness in there. She knew how to judge who might be an easy companion for a night or two, if she had the need.
No question he was attractive, in a rough and sexy sort of way, and though she’d learned not to let it matter, it was a bonus that he had a good four inches over her in height. She wouldn’t deny she’d felt a tug in the belly, but if and when she had that need, she’d steer clear of Keaton.
Keep it simple, she thought as she went back to the stepladder. Because her life, her nature, would always be complicated.
Instinct told her Xander Keaton was anything but simple.
When the soaking rain finally moved off and the sun sparkled again, Naomi had the sheer delight of folding outswing doors off her kitchen. After they’d been installed and the crew left, she opened and closed them half a dozen times just for the fun of it.
With the turn of weather, she donned her boots and a light jacket and grabbed her camera. Stock photos of flowers always provided a decent revenue, and the burgeoning bulbs and wildflowers offered her a treasure trove. She could ramble the woods looking for the interest of rough bark, nurse logs, the charm of a narrow stream running fast with snowmelt. The surprise of a little waterfall running faster yet to a tumble of rocks below.
And she got an unexpected shot of a bear when they encountered each other in the silvery quiet of dawn.
After ten days of working for a living, the tedium of painting, the stress of selecting cabinet hardware and kitchen appliances, she sat on her new king-size mattress with her laptop.
Hello from Construction Central, loves of my life.
I did it. This room is painted, every square inch of wall, ceiling, and trim. I have wonderful atrium doors leading out to my deck, and intend to sit out thereon the chair I sanded and repaintedin the morning and wallow with coffee over my view. It’ll be a short wallow as the crew comes early, and the indescribable noise comes along with them. But I can see the kitchen coming together. I remember when you had the kitchen redone aboutwhatsix years ago. I was home for a couple weeks and it was chaos. This is chaos times infinity.
But I think I like itthe process of it.
I saw a bear this morning. Don’t worry, I was more interested in him than he was in me. Picture attached. I couldn’t get one of the whaleI’m sure it was a whalesounding way out. By the time I got my camera, zoomed out, it was gone.
I’m happy here. They’re getting to know me in townenough to say hello when I’m at the market or hardwaremy two favorite places right now. Oh, and the pizza place. It’s not New York pizza, but it’s not crap either.
I’m happy here, despite the daily noise, the deluge of decisions. Kevin says I really have to decide on the tile for the master, and the backsplash for the kitchen. Both terrify me more than a little. But that’s for later.
Write me back soonand that goes for you, too, Mason, with more than an all’s good, how’s it going. I’m about to start picking color and designs out for the rooms I’ve earmarked as yours when you visit.
Before pictures also attached.
Miss you, love you,
Naomi
Once she sent the email off, she ordered herself to work. She had to update her Facebook page, do the Tumblr thing, the Pinterest deal, and write something for the blog. All chores she’d have put off for the rest of her life if they weren’t part of the job.
An hour later, she took her laptop back to the desk to plug in the charger. And saw the moon riding over the water.
She grabbed her camera, filters, a second lens, and went out on her deck in the deep night chill.
She caught the moon along with its reflection in the water. Mirror Moon, she thought, already composing as she took more pictures, changed filters, angles. She’d make a seriescards, which always sold well off her site. If they turned out as well as she thought, she’d set up her mat cutter and board and start sending some art to the gallery.
But she was doing one for herself. She rose, drew in the quiet, the light, the sense of lovely, lovely solitude.
She’d hang the best of the best on the wall she’d painted herself.
Her moon over her inlet.