To distract myself from it all, I picked up the design magazines I’d bought when I went to the store on Saturday for inspiration and started flicking through them.
I hit gold for distraction and my living room on the eighth page.
“What are you doing?” Logan’s deep voice asked behind me, making me wobble on the stepladder.
I’d seen a photo of a room with white walls and a cool blue, six inch border around them. A small strip of carved wood had separated the two. It suited the house and my style so perfectly, I’d gotten straight back into the car and headed to the hardware store before I could talk myself out of it.
That’s probably a strange thing to say, but I didn’t know what my style was, if I was honest. I kept humming and hawing over things I saw but hadn’t decided on any of them.
Seeing one that finally screamed yes at me was a sign, and the sooner I did it, the better I’d feel.
At least, that was today’s excuse.
Yes, I loved the look of it. Yes, I thought it would look fabulous in the room and house. Yes, it kind of did suit my style because I’d intended to give it character with accessories, but I’d also wanted the living room to be the heart of it. To do that, a cool style was necessary, and this was definitely cool.
But there was also the small fact that in two weeks, the floor dude would be doing his work, so I needed to get as much done as possible.
And had I mentioned that I hated skidding around on the plastic sheeting taped down? You try walking out of your room pre-caffeine and skidding in your socks. That shit was no fun. It woke you up, but it also made you walk like you were trying to escape a psycho in a slasher movie.
All of this meant that as soon as I had what I needed, I’d come home, put music on, and started painting the border from the ceiling down. I was in the zone, and the music was loud, so I hadn’t heard him come home.
Doyle had reached an impasse with Logan yesterday after he found him chewing on his work socks and lying on his pants. After a tug of war and some evasive actions on Logan’s behalf, he’d managed to leave for work with a slightly mangled uniform and wet socks.
Last night, Logan had come in with another bone for Doyle, this one filled with marrow. This meant that the dog was docile-ish when he saw Logan, only lifting his head to growl at him instead of attacking him like he usually did.
Prince, on the other hand, just flicked his tail and glared at Logan before curling back up again in a ball.
With my hand braced against the wall to steady myself, I twisted at the waist to look at him, seeing him frowning as he looked at what I’d done.
“I’m painting?” Why was that a question?
“I can see that, but what are you painting?”
Dropping the cute little roller I’d picked up into the pan, I carefully got down the steps again.
“I picked up some design magazines because I wanted to get an idea of accessories to give the house some pizzazz.” Yes, I used my jazz hands for the word.
Picking up the magazine in question, I held up the double-page photo for him to see.
“This border looks killer with the bright white walls, so I got some paint and the little wood doohickey like this,” I pointed to where it split the colors on the photo. “Cool, right?”
Glancing from the magazine to my walls and back again, Logan rubbed his forehead. “I don’t exactly hate it, I just haven’t ever seen anything like that before.”
“Right? The house has always been one of a kind in Piersville, so I thought the inside should reflect the outside somehow. I know I can make a statement with the accessories and shit, but the living room should be a feature.”
It was obvious that I was excited about my plan, and whatever he saw on my face made him grin.
“Well then, let’s finish your feature.”
Two pairs of hands made the work go much quicker, and within an hour, we were both finished with the first coat of paint.
Ruffling his hair with his hands, Logan grumbled, “How did it get in my hair? I wasn’t even close to the wall, and none of it’s on the white area.”
Holding my hands up to show him the amount of paint I’d gotten on them, I shrugged. “Who knows, but it gets everywhere. Why don’t you have a shower, and I’ll put the food on?”
Such an innocent question, but one that got genuine panic from him.
“What? I can do it when I’m done or before I go in.”
“I bought one of those already cooked chickens from the store on the way back from getting the paint, and I’m probably okay to put frozen fries in without killing us.”
Looking relieved, he moved toward the door. “I won’t be long, but maybe put them in the oven in about ten minutes.”
And with that, he was gone, leaving Prince and me to stare at the work. The tape was still up because it was only the first coat, but I liked it already.
“It’s going to look awesome once we pull the tape off and put the wooden partition between the colors, kiddo. What do you think? Suits the fireplace and light fixture, right?”
Ever the mute, Prince just blinked at me.
“That’s what I thought. You’re welcome to give an opinion at some point, though, so feel free to hit me with what you really think.”
To that, he lifted his leg like a ballerina, toe pointed out and everything, and stuck his head between his legs.
“Well, that’s rude.”
Looking away from what was a private moment between him and his crotch, I turned in a circle
