Unexpected Love (11 page)

Twenty-seven

The next evening Sean helped her in the kitchen as they got ready for Maggie and Walter.

Sean looked at her, “You seem a bit nervous.”

“I just want everything to be good.”

He grinned, “Are you jesting?  You couldn’t make something bad even if you tried.  You know, I’ve never had anyone over for dinner.  In fact, I don’t think I’ve ever had anyone at the house ever.”  Except Taylor, but he did not add that part.  He knew Maggie had been over to see Taylor, but he had never invited her and Walter over.  He probably should have but he wasn’t a great cook. 

Taylor was feeling like she was walking on air.  Not even a girlfriend?  Not even Amanda?  The doorbell rang before she could ask any questions.

Later, Walter and Maggie praised her cooking.  Walter said, “Best fried chicken I ever had.  I guess Sean told you I love fried chicken.  Maggie doesn’t like me eating a lot of it, though.”  He patted his stomach.

Maggie laughed at him, “I’m just watching out for you, dear.”

Sean spoke up, “Taylor’s a professional chef.”

They had chatted about it briefly before Taylor changed the subject.  Maggie helped her clean up while Sean and Walter talked in the living room.  Sean had offered to help but Maggie had shooed him out.

“So, how are things going?”

“Fine.”  Oh no, was she fishing for information?  What would she say if she asked a bunch of questions about Sean?

“Good.”  Taylor was relieved. 

“I saw that Amanda woman at the store.”  She tried to sound casual.

“Oh?”

Maggie was not making getting information easy.  “Do you know why they broke up?”

“Not sure, but I heard rumors that she had been dating someone else at the same time as Sean.”

“Oh.”  Who in the world would want someone else if they had Sean?  She could not picture even thinking about dating another man if she was dating Sean.  Not that she was.  She was just a roommate.

It was late when Maggie and Walter left.  Sean picked her up and carried up the stairs with her protesting.  “Yes, I know you can walk.  We’ll get up faster this way and it’s been a long day.”  He set her down outside her door, gave her a quick kiss on the lips and left.

She went inside and held her hand to her cheek, her fingers brushed her lips.  His lips had been warm and soft.  She smiled as she got ready for bed.

Twenty-eight

Taylor and Sean had agreed to help Walter at his clinic at dinner last night since Sean had the day off.  He told her they would be painting so she wore an old t-shirt with a small hole in the middle of her stomach.  She should have gotten rid of it, but it was soft and comfortable so she had kept it.  She sometimes wore it to bed but she decided that this was the time to wear it.  It could easily be disposed of if she got any paint on it. 

Walter and Maggie were driving to the clinic early in the morning.  “Walter, we can do the exam room.  Let Sean and Taylor do the consultation room.”

Walter looked at her and smiled, “Trying to get them together are we?”

“Well, I think they are doing pretty good in that department but it can’t hurt.”  She gave him a wink and he laughed heartily.

Sean and Taylor were already there.  Walter showed them the smaller room.  It had a couch, two chairs, table, bookcase and a couple of soothing nature pictures on the wall.  “I’m going to make this room for consultation and grieving.  It’s hard when someone has to make a final decision.  They need time and privacy.”

Taylor’s admiration for him rose.  She gave him a big smile.  She could understand how hard it would be.  It was really nice that he did too even if it was part of his profession.

The color he had chosen was a soft sky blue.  When he and Maggie left to paint another room, Taylor asked, “Can he not afford a professional painter?”

Sean grinned at her, “I am a professional, didn’t you know that?”

“Oh, right.  I must have forgotten.” She smirked.

“Are you doubting my abilities?”

“No, of course not.  As long as he doesn’t have a plumbing problem, we’ll be fine.”  She snickered. 

Sean threw one of the soft cloths at her.  “Walter can afford it but it’s a small job and he likes to do it himself.  It’s hard to get someone to come in for such a small job on a weekend.”

She took her shoes off.  She did not want paint on them.  She looked at Sean’s tennis shoes.  They were old and already had a blotch of paint of them.

They spread the painting cloth on the floor.  When done, Sean looked down and saw the small hole in her shirt.  He raised an eyebrow and stuck a finger in it.  His finger touched warm skin.    “I know I said wear something old, but...”

Taylor giggled.  His finger touching her had sent tingling shocks across her stomach.  “It’s old.  Perfectly suitable for painting.”

Sean dropped the subject and showed her how to her stir the paint, “Don’t lean over.  I’d hate to see you in the paint bucket.”

“Very funny.”

Sean got the rollers, brushes, and paint pan.  He put blue tape on the running boards along the bottom of the walls and moved the furniture to the hallway. 

“I’ve never painted before.” 

“Why am I not surprised that the chef can’t paint?”  He grinned.  She punched him in the arm playfully and picked up a roller.

Sean showed her what to do and they started to paint.

She smiled at him after a few minutes, “This is kinda fun.”

“Yeah, it’s good to do something different once in a while.  Other than cook or arrest people.”

Taylor laughed, “I see you’re better at this than plumbing.”

Sean gave her a studied look, “I’m sure I am.” 

“So, what else are you good at?  Besides being a cop and painting and keeping a girl from falling on her face?”

He gave her a considered look, “I could tell you, but it might embarrass you.”

She stared for a moment and then looked back at the wall she was painting.

He put his hand into the paint pan and pressed his hand onto the upper part of her chest and shoulder.  “Oopps, sorry.  I must have thought you were part of the wall.”

Her mouth was hanging open.  He put his paint hand under her chin, “Careful, don’t want to get any paint in there.”

She wiped at her chin and smeared paint.  “You’re wasting paint and time.”  She primly turned away. 

He stared.  He was sure he would have gotten a rise out of her.  No reaction other than a moralistic remark?  He picked up the roller and began spreading more paint on the wall.

“Oh, Sean,” she said innocently.  As he turned to look at her, she swiped a paint brush full of paint across his chest.  She put her hand to her mouth that formed an o, “Oops.”

He flicked the paint roller and paint went into her hair and on her neck.

She retaliated with the paint brush.  She stroked the brush full of paint across his chest.  She turned back to the wall with a smile.

He grabbed her and she started to laugh as he lifted her off her feet.  She screeched when it looked like he was going to put her feet in the paint pan.  She wiggled and tried to get away, but he was strong and she didn’t try very hard.  She had her head back on his shoulder and she was squirming.  She put her hands on his arms.  She was laughing too hard to get away.

“No, don’t make me stand in paint.  My feet will be blue.” 

“I think it’s too late, they are already blue.”

She was still laughing and wriggling.  She kicked her feet as he started to put her down into the paint pan.  “Sean, no.”  She couldn’t stop giggling.  She wrapped one of her legs around his to try to prevent him from setting her down.

Maggie walked in.  She eyed them, “More paint on you two than the wall.”  She grinned as Sean put Taylor down.

Taylor said, “Sorry.”

Maggie made an umhum sound and left.  She had to report to Walter.  She knew her plan would work.  They just needed to paint together, alone.

Taylor and Sean started painting again.  Taylor whispered, “You deserved it.”

Sean leaned over, started to put his lips on hers, but drew back quickly as Walter came in. 

Walter laughed, “Maggie said there was more paint on you two than the wall.  I just had to come see for myself.”  He left.

Taylor flicked the almost empty roller at Sean and peppered his shirt with more paint blotches.  “Oh no.  Sorry.  I thought it was empty.”

He made a grab for her but she got just out of reach.  She flicked paint on his face and hair, “Stay back.  I’m armed with a paint roller.”

“Oh, using a weapon on me?  I will have to handcuff you now.”

“You don’t have any on you.”  She looked down at his filled out jeans.  Was it getting hot in here?  “Besides you are a painter today, not a cop.”  She grinned at him.

Sean grabbed her and pushed her back against the wet wall, “I’m sorry ma’am but I may have to frisk you for other weapons.”

“You wish.”  She tried to sound fierce but she ended up laughing again.

“I think you’re going to have to redo this area.”  He grinned at her.

She made an annoyed sound.  She could feel the paint seeping through the shirt and sticking to her back.  She glared, “Have you ever seen a woman on the edge?”

Sean looked at her with a mock look of horror and she burst out laughing. 

“Is this an attempt to be scary?”

“No, if I were trying to be scary, you would be afraid.”

“If you say so.”

She started her area over but it wasn’t coming out so well.  “Sean, I’m making a mess.”

He came over and took her hand with the roller and rolled it in the pan. “You need more paint on the roller.”  He guided her hand up the wall, “See?”

She nodded but said nothing.  He looked at her arms.  The goose bumps were back.

They finally got two of the four walls painted.  The paint was drying and sticking to her back.  She tried pulling the stiff material away from her skin, but it went right back. 

She dipped a hand into the paint and smeared his cheek and neck.  “That’s for making my back sticky with paint.”

He laughed, “Looks like you need a little more.”

He threw more paint on her and she started to laugh.  It was in her hair, on her face, her clothes.  He was a mess too.  They went back to painting the wall instead of each other.  They finally finished the third wall.

“One more to go,” she smirked as she eyed him covered with paint.  “Blue must be your color.  It looks good on you.”  She giggled, “or should I say all over you?”

The tarp they were standing on was smeared with wet and drying paint.  She tried to back away as he came at her with a brush.  “Sean, stay back.  Don’t make me have to hurt you.”  She laughed and put her hands out to stop him from advancing.

Instead of using the brush, he reached over and pulled her to him. 

“You smell like paint.  Usually you smell like fresh spring rain.”  She blushed when she realized what she had just told him.

His eyes got darker.  His lips had just touched hers when Maggie called out, “Anyone need some water?”

Sean stepped back as she walked in and eyed them.  “Thirsty?”  She looked at them covered in paint.  “Well, at least some of it is on the walls.”  She grinned at them, “Here are a couple of bottles of water for you.  I’ll just set them here.”  She put them on the floor and left. 

He stared at her and asked softly, “I smell like paint?”

She blushed.  She realized how it must sound, her smelling him.  She did not respond and he said nothing.   

He saw her blush and smiled. 

Taylor just said, “Maggie wasn’t covered with paint.”

“She’s not as good at painting as we are.”  That made her laugh.

Sean retrieved the bottles.  “Do you want to sit for a minute?”

Taylor looked around and found a fairly paint free area away from where they were painting and sat.  It felt good to sit.   Her legs were getting tired.

Sean sat down in front of her and they drank some water.  After a few minutes, he asked her if she was ready and she nodded yes.  He stepped behind her and lifted her to her feet with his arms around her waist.  She shivered when he put his nose in her hair and murmured, “You smell like honeysuckle and paint.”

He dropped his arms and they went back to painting.  They finally finished and Sean put the paint brush down.  He looked at her and laughed. 

“Yeah?  You don’t look any better, mister.”  She pushed some stray hairs back and then realized she had just put more paint in her hair and probably on her face.

She walked towards him.  The paint on the floor was wet and slippery and the tarp shifted under her bare, wet blue feet.  She fell into him and they both fell to the floor.  She stared into his eyes as she lay sprawled on him.  He stared back.

She was sure all the air in the room had just been sucked out.  Sean grinned, “If you wanted me down on the floor, all you had to do was ask.”

She flushed and scrambled off him. 

“If I had wanted you on the floor, I would have taken you down, mister.”

He raised an eyebrow at her, “That sounds interesting.  And in case you didn’t notice, you already did.”

She rolled her eyes at him and he laughed.  He got up, but as was he lifting her up, he lost his balance on the slippery tarp and they fell again.  This time she laughed so hard she had tears in her eyes. 

“Okay,” he was laughing too.  “Let’s try this again.”

He carefully got them up and held onto her to make sure she was not going to slip and fall again.  They stared at each other.  The air was charged with voltages of energy and tension.  He stepped back.  He wanted to take her down on the paint smeared tarp, kiss her until she was crazy, and then make love to her.  He needed to back off to gain some control on his thoughts and his body.

They went to find Maggie and Walter.  They both laughed when they saw the two of them covered in paint.

Maggie gave them a couple of old sheets to put over the car seats to sit on.

She looked Taylor over, “I’d hug you, but…”

Taylor laughed, “That’s okay.”

“Thanks for helping out today, honey.  I’ll see you later.” 

As soon as she got home, she showered and was finally able to get all the paint off.  She went downstairs and started making a dill sauce for her orange roughy in the oven. 

Sean came in and pulled on her hair, “Still have some paint in your hair, unless you were going for a blue color.”  He pulled on her hair gently and got the paint out.  “Better.”  He then put his finger in the sauce, “Umm, that’s good.”

“I don’t make fish very often.  I really don’t like seafood much, but I do like this fish.  It doesn’t taste fishy.  I didn’t ask if you like fish.”

“I do.”  He stuck his finger in the sauce again.  She rolled her eyes at him, then she took a spoon and put a dab of sauce in her hand and smeared it on his lips.  Grinning, she said, “Enjoy the sauce.”

He finally got to do what he had tried to do all day, he put his hands in her hair and pulled her towards him and softly kissed her. She could taste the dill sauce on his lips.  “Did you like it?”

She was still in a daze from the electrifying but gentle kiss, “What?”

“The dill sauce, did you like it?”

She blushed, grabbed a paper towel and wiped her face.  Then she looked back to the stove.  He washed his face off and helped her finish dinner after calling a truce.