She seemed completely flustered by the offer. “I don’t expect—”
“Name the time.” He’d taken just about as much of her independence as he could handle for one morning.
“Saturday morning.”
He nodded. He might not be able to keep her from moving herself and her son into this dive, but he could make damn sure it was livable before she did.
“What color paint do you want?” he asked.
“I’ll get the paint,” she said.
His scowl deepened. “What color?”
Apparently she finally realized that she’d pushed him as far as she could push him. “Pale yellow for the living room walls, blue for the bedrooms. White woodwork.”
Sean nodded as he jotted it down. “Got it.”
“I think I should at least come with you,” she said. “In my experience men aren’t all that reliable when it comes to picking out paint colors.”
“Did you just insult my taste?” he inquired.
“Uh-oh,” Ruby said. “Kevin, I think you and I ought to wait outside.”
Kevin regarded her blankly. “How come?”
“Because your mother and Sean are about to have a discussion.”
The boy’s brow knit worriedly. “You mean a fight?”
Sean winked at him. “No big deal. Your mom just doesn’t seem to respect my eye for color.”
“Huh?”
“Go with Ruby. We’ll be down in a minute.” After they’d gone, he turned and faced Deanna. “You could accept my help graciously, you know.”
“It’s not your help I’m worried about. It’s the color scheme I’m likely to end up with. I’d feel better if I had a say.”
“You feel that way about a lot of things, don’t you?”
“Because, in my experience, men aren’t that reliable.”
“Are we talking paint now, or in general?”
She regarded him with an unflinching look. “In general.”
“Dee, have I ever let you down?” he asked, his tone softening.
“No, but—”
“But you haven’t given me a chance to let you down, is that what you were going to say?”
“As a matter of fact, yes.”
Sean wanted to defend not only his honor but the honor of all men, then decided not to. His father certainly hadn’t been that reliable. Maybe everybody generally sucked at relationships. Of course, his brother and Maggie seemed to be doing okay, but there were exceptions to every rule.
Deanna looked at him intently. “You’re not arguing.”
“No,” he said flatly. “I’m not arguing.”
That didn’t mean he didn’t want to kiss her and protect her and swear that he was different. He just didn’t have any solid proof that that was so.
Chapter Thirteen
The little set-to over paint at the new apartment was just one more example of Sean trying to control things, Deanna concluded after he’d left with Kevin and she and Ruby had gone on to work at the law office.
“If I don’t like the paint he chooses, I’m taking it back,” she muttered under her breath.
Ruby regarded her with amusement. “I’m pretty sure he understands that. Did either one of you ever consider the idea of compromise? Did you even suggest meeting him at the home-improvement store on your lunch break?”
“I said I wanted to take care of this myself,” Deanna said defensively. “It is my apartment, after all. I’m perfectly capable of selecting paint, brushes and whatever else I need to fix things up. I can also handle whatever work needs to be done. I haven’t had anyone to do things for me since I left home.”
“Knowing Sean, I imagine he thinks he’s just being helpful,” Ruby explained quietly. “He’s merely offering to take on something that would cut into your little bit of free time.”
Deanna tried to see it from Sean’s perspective. She was forced to admit that Ruby was probably right. That didn’t mean his presumption didn’t grate. Once she’d left home, she’d been forced to learn to rely on herself. She’d no longer been able to pick up the phone and hire someone to do whatever needed doing. She’d learned to be plumber, painter and basic mechanic. That necessity had only deepened after her divorce, when money was even tighter.
“If this is going to drive you nuts, call him,” Ruby suggested. “Errands are the third best use you can make of a lunch hour after sneaking off with your honey for a quickie or eating something totally decadent. Heck, Sean might even buy you lunch.” A grin spread across her face. “Or go with you to pick out a bed.”
He’d probably insist on it, Deanna thought irritably, then sighed. Why did she find it so annoying that Sean wanted to help? The answer was easy. It was precisely what she’d alluded to that morning. After Frankie—heck, even after her father’s rejection—she didn’t trust any man in her life to be reliable. Maybe it was even worse with Sean, because she wanted so badly to be proved wrong in his case.
She settled at her desk, handled the first few incoming calls, took a few messages, then when the phones were quiet, she called Sean.
“I’ve been thinking,” she said quietly. “I can get away from here for an hour at lunchtime. How about if I meet you to pick out the paint?”
“Since you asked so nicely,” he said, clearly teasing, “is noon good for you?”
“Perfect.”
“I’ll pick you up in front of your office.”
“It’s only a few blocks. We can walk.”
“I know you think of me as a big, strong guy, but I am not hauling gallons of paint around. We need the car.”
He had her there. “I’ll meet you out front at noon,” she agreed.
Sean laughed. “See how easy that was?”
“Only because I agreed with you,” she retorted.
“That goes without saying. You should consider making it a practice. We’ll see how you do when it comes to picking out furniture.”
Even as Deanna deliberately hung up on him, she chuckled at his completely unrepentant attitude. She couldn’t deny, though, that she was looking forward to the trip to the hardware
