Picket Fence Surprise. Kris Fletcher

Чтение книги онлайн.

СКАЧАТЬ this?” He pointed to a particularly large spot on her arm. “Are you trying out for a part in the next Dr. Seuss book?”

      Heather swiped at a blotch of purple on her nose and grinned. “Sorry. Millie and I are in the middle of a project.”

      “What are you—”

      “Cady!” Millie clattered down the stairs, arms outstretched. “What are you doing here?”

      Heather gave the condensed version while Xander eased Cady down to the floor and assessed the damage. Other than a few damp spots from the first bits of rain, Cady was relatively dry. His shirt was wet in the shoulders, but the backpack had done double duty today.

      “Mom, can I take Cady out to the fun porch?”

      Heather placed a palm over one of the purple spots on Millie’s shirt. “I guess you’re dry enough. Wash your hands first, though, and don’t let Cady get into your chemistry set.” She glanced at Xander. “Okay with you? I don’t think you’re going anywhere on a bike for a while.”

      He winced as lightning flashed through the windows. “Hate to crash into your afternoon, but I think you’re right. Go ahead, Cady. Go with Millie.”

      As soon as the girls departed, hand in hand and already giggling, he looked at Heather. “Did she really call it a fun porch?”

      “Yep. Technically, it’s a three season room, but that’s where she keeps her art and science supplies, so, you know. Fun porch.” She waved at the stairs. “I need to clean up a bit, but do you want some coffee or tea or anything?”

      “I’m good, thanks. But I’m dying to know what kind of project means you need to have—” he took advantage off the opportunity to look her up and down, giving thanks for every blotch that required scrutiny “—seven different shades of purple. Or is that one pink?”

      Heather pulled her shirt away from her stomach and held it tent-style, frowning at the spot in question. “I think that one is Blushing Rose.”

      “Good name.” Good color, too. He didn’t dare do an in-depth comparison, but he was pretty sure it was the same color as Heather’s lips, now tipped in a half smile more intriguing than that of the Mona Lisa.

      “We’re going to paint Millie’s room, but she wasn’t sure what color she wanted, so we’re trying them on the walls. To see how they look in the light, and all that.”

      “Gotcha.” And then, because he could hear Millie and Cady laughing and the evening was still early and he wanted to see this new facet of Heather, he said, “Can I see it?”

      “Sure. Come on upstairs.” She turned in the direction of the childish laughter. “Millie, I’m showing your room to Mr. Sorenson.”

      “Okay, Mom.”

      “You know,” he said as he followed Heather up the stairs, lagging behind a step or two to better absorb the sight of her hips swaying as she climbed, “she doesn’t have to call me Mr. Sorenson. That makes me feel like my grandfather.”

      “What should she call you? Xander? I don’t think so.”

      “How about Mr. X?”

      She burst into delightful ripples of laughter as she led him down a narrow hall made even skinnier by the bed frame and mattress piled along the walls. “Very mysterious.”

      “Yeah, that’s me. One secret after another.” He ducked and entered a small room tucked beneath the roof. Too many slopes for his comfort, but they were countered by large windows on two sides—one looking out over a row of pines, the other over the river.

      He let out a whistle. “I’m guessing that when it isn’t pouring, those are great views.”

      “Yeah, I love this room. I told Mills she’s lucky it’s too small for my bed. Otherwise I’d have to wrestle her for it.”

      He focused on the circles and swirls of color dotting the once-cream walls while she gathered brushes and buckets. “So these are the contenders?”

      “Yep. You can see that with all the angles and corners in here, we wanted to try it in different places.” She gestured to indicate the entirety of the room. “Good thing, too. Millie’s favorite was the deep purply-blue, but over there, it’s way too dark.”

      “Agreed.” He stepped back and squinted at the blotches, turning in a slow circle. Could he tell the difference between most of them? Not really. But one color did stand out from the others. “Me, I’d go with that one.” He pointed to the pinkish blob by the window before finding its counterpart in the darkest nook. “Everything else gets pretty gloomy back here, but that...”

      He stopped as he realized he’d chosen the color that Heather had called Blushing Rose, the one that was a perfect match for her lips. A man could drown in that color. He shook himself. “It’s...you know. Cheery.”

      “I see what you mean. You have a good eye.” She grinned. “Though I guess I knew that already. At least when it comes to résumés.”

      Yeah, his eye was good all right. Especially when it came to picking out a pretty women with a smile that shot straight through him and made him think of things he had no business thinking about.

      “Speaking of your résumé, how are you doing with—what was it that came next? A presentation?”

      “Right. I have to present my ideas at the interview. And I’m having a blast pulling it together.”

      “Maybe tourism is a better fit for you than you thought.”

      “Maybe.” She flicked off the light and led him into the hall. “It’s been a while since I got to tap into my creative side. I still have to do the analytics, but I’m having way too much fun designing mock-ups of web pages and brochures.”

      “Can I see them?”

      “Really?”

      “Sure.” He took the bucket from her hand, allowing himself one fleeting moment of contact. “I feel like I have a stake in this, too.”

      “I guess you do. Maybe Millie should call you Mr. Headhunter.”

      He’d been called worse.

      She took a side trip at the bottom of the stairs and hovered at the door to what must be the fun porch, given the number of toys and bins stacked on the shelves. Millie and Cady sat on the floor, happily applying stickers to each other’s faces and arms.

      “Oh God,” Heather said, but there was no true dismay in her voice. “And I thought the paint was bad.”

      “Stickers come off easy.”

      “Here’s hoping.” She raised her voice. “Mills, no more decorating the guest, okay?”

      “’Kay, Mom.”

      Cady leaned across the basket of stickers and carefully placed one over Millie’s mouth before breaking into giggles.

      Xander was pretty sure he should say something parental. “Cady, СКАЧАТЬ