make everything else as pleasant as possible.” He slapped one hand against a bare wall. “As you can see the old cabinets are down. I’ve already taken measurements for the new ones and I’ll get started on them this week. In the parlor you’ll find an assortment of paint samples and wallpaper sample books for you to peruse in your free time. And in the main room you probably noticed our luxurious seating accommodations.”
She glanced over her shoulder at the ratty sofa. “I thought that was the trash pile,” she teased.
He stepped back, obviously outraged. “It’s an antique.”
“Uh-huh. Del, it’s junk. I can see through patches of the fabric and there are springs poking out all over.”
“Having it around is kind of a tradition. Is it too offensive?”
“Not as long as it leaves when the job is over.”
“Deal. We have clean sheets we toss over the sofa and the recliners at the end of the day. So you’ll have something clean to sit on.” He paused and frowned. “I never thought to ask. How much furniture are you going to be moving in?”
“Less than you’d think. I have a bedroom set being delivered Friday morning. Otherwise, just what I can fit in my car.”
“You travel light.”
“I’ve learned to.”
She’d spent the past year in three different hospitals and multiple rehab centers. Furniture hadn’t been much of a priority. She still had a few things in the Los Angeles apartment she’d shared with her stepsister, Dallas, but saw no need to tell that to Del. Besides, she wasn’t sure if she would be moving anything up to Beachside Bay. That sort of depended on whether or not she decided to stay here.
She remembered the contents of her car trunk. “Did you already get paint for the guest bedroom and bath?” she asked.
“No. Why?”
“I did some shopping this weekend and ended up buying paint and wallpaper.”
His dark eyes brightened with laughter. “Let me guess. Pink and lavender. And the wallpaper had flowers on it.”
“How very sexist.”
“Am I wrong?”
She reached in her skirt pocket for her car keys. “Why don’t you see for yourself. Everything is in the trunk.”
He grabbed the keys, then called for one of the guys to get the supplies. “Want to show me what goes where?” he asked.
Del led the way to the stairs and waited for Rose to follow. She hesitated a moment before nodding her head in agreement and coming after him. He watched her walk, noticing that her movements were slower than usual, as if every step caused her pain.
“You all right?” he asked.
“Sure. Some days are easier than others. Today’s turning out to be one of the hard ones.”
As she spoke, he noticed the lines of tension and hurt around her eyes and mouth. She’d pulled her long blond hair back into a sleek ponytail that left her slender neck bare. A white T-shirt hugged her top half while a crinkly white and teal skirt fell to mid calf. He tried to concentrate on anything but the full curves outlined by her shirt. She was big enough to fill a man’s hand and while he’d never considered himself much of a breast man, Rose made him rethink his position.
She started up the stairs. Her movements were slow and awkward, with her taking each step individually. She raised her right foot and set it firmly on the next level. The cane followed. She then braced herself on the cane and raised her left foot. He didn’t know if she was in pain from what she was doing, but it sure hurt him to watch. He had to force himself not to hover behind her.
“Were you in an accident of some kind?” he asked before he could stop himself.
“Yes. A truck hit my car.”
She spoke between sharp gasps of breath.
Del told himself not to watch, that if he had a brain in his head he would talk about something unrelated so that she wouldn’t know he was itching to help in some way. Except she hadn’t asked for help and he didn’t know how to offer. But before he could think of a single thing to say, her left leg gave way and she started to go down.
She was less than a quarter of the way up the staircase. He was at her side, grabbing her arm and holding her upright before she even came close to falling. He wrapped one arm around her waist so she could lean on him.
They were close enough for him to inhale her floral scented perfume…and something else. Some female essence that was both attractive and oddly familiar. But before he could place it, she turned to look at him.
All thoughts fled his mind as he saw the pain and bleakness in her eyes. The blue irises darkened with a thousand emotions he couldn’t begin to identify. He had no idea what she was going through or what she’d endured. He only knew that she didn’t utter a word of complaint.
She trembled slightly, making him aware of their close proximity. His thumb was just under the curve of her right breast, and he was six kinds of an idiot for noticing. He also ignored the fact that her curvy rear rested against his thigh. All men were slime, he told himself, and he was the slime king.
“Do me a favor,” he said as he bent down and slid his arm under her knees. “Don’t scream too loud. You can yell at me when we get to the second floor.”
Then he lifted her up into his arms and carried her the rest of the way up the stairs.
She fit him perfectly. Not like Josie, who had been bony and too muscular. Rose was soft curves and yielding femininity. He wanted to keep on walking with her like this, taking them both to a quiet spot where they could get to know each other better. He wanted to bend down and kiss her until…hell, he didn’t want to
Unfortunately, neither was an option so when they reached the landing, he set her on her feet and prepared to be castigated.
“I know,” he said, holding up a hand to try to slow her down. “I violated every code in the cane users handbook. I shouldn’t have picked you up and carried you. If you’d wanted my help you would have asked. I’m insensitive and a jerk. I just couldn’t stand to watch you in pain and I was afraid you’d fall. For all I know you’d break your neck and die right here and I know you haven’t had time to put the house into your will. What if your estate defaulted on the contract? So it was really about money. I wasn’t trying to insult you.”
Her mouth twitched up slightly at the corners. “Well, if you were just being mercenary and looking out for your self-interest, I guess I understand. But if you were trying to be nice, I’d have to be mad.”
She was laughing at him. “Are you mad?”
“That you were nice and caring and a gentleman? Not at all. Just don’t tell me I need to lose a few pounds.”
He allowed himself to give her body the once-over, lingering a tiny bit on her breasts. “From here you look great.”
She laughed, although the sound had a slightly strangled quality. “Thank you. For the compliment and for carrying me. I don’t think we should make a habit of it, but under the circumstances, it was very nice.”
He almost added “for me, too” but caught himself at the last minute.
“I do have a question, though,” she said in her low, husky voice. The sound definitely rubbed him the right way. He could listen to her for hours.
“Shoot.”
“Would you have done it if I’d been a man?”
It took him a second to realize what she meant. Would he have carried her up the stairs if she’d been male? He hesitated, knowing the right answer and not sure he could actually say it.
“Politically correct battles with gut truth.” She leaned close. “Don’t try to pretend otherwise. I can see it in your eyes.”
“Yeah, yeah, so I wouldn’t have carried a guy up the stairs. I still would have helped.”
“Hey, boss. Where do you want these?”
Gary came up the stairs with a perfectly timed interruption. He held a couple of cans of paint in each hand and had rolls of wallpaper tucked under his left arm.
