His gaze narrowed and he set the brush he was holding down with a splat. More paint spattered onto the handle. “Laugh if you want. I thought I’d be done in a half hour. Instead, I’ve been at it for hours, I painted part of my backyard white, and I’ve already changed once.”
She bit her lip again. He was about halfway on his side. She crouched, picked up the wet rag he hadn’t used, and used two fingers to pick up the brush and clean it with the cloth.
“Is it your first time painting something outdoors?” He’d need to wash his hands or the handle would get covered again. She glanced at him when he remained silent, his lips pressed firmly together.
She set the brush down on the edge of the paint tray gently. “Wait. Is this your first time painting?”
“So?” The one word was filled with heat, and she would have gotten up and walked off, left him to his fence finger painting, but it was also easy to hear the fatigue and frustration.
She settled on her knees. “So, nothing. It was a question, not an accusation. Painting is harder than people think. It takes practice and something awkward like this isn’t the best start. Usually, people start with a big wall or something.”
He stared at her, and even though it made her heart jump around like an ADHD bunny, she held his gaze. “You fixed those slats in less time than it took me to reply to some emails.”
She offered a smile. “My mom wasn’t the best at household chores. We didn’t have money to get things fixed. I learned to … tinker.” And make do.
“I still own four properties in New York. I have several holdings here in California, including this house. I’m a little pissed off to learn I can’t paint a fence without looking like I poured a can of it over me.”
“I only own that house and my car. Both were gifted to me. Everyone has their skills.”
One half of his mouth tipped up. “Nice spin on it. I should clean up. Start over.”
“I could help you if you want.” The words popped out of her mouth before she remembered the shower, the wine, and the home-reno show. Plus her homework.
“Why would you?”
She stood, didn’t hide the eye roll. “God, you’re so skeptical.”
He stood as well, his gaze going between her and the fence before staying on Grace. “You were right about it not needing to be replaced. Kyle agreed with you. You were also right about the hedges.”
She looked toward the place where the hedges had been, pushing aside the reasoning he’d given her when he talked of removing them.
“Thanks for the view,” she said, inexplicably excited about a glass of wine on her back porch.
“I could pay you to finish the fence.”
Grace’s jaw dropped. She pulled herself together with a deep breath. “I don’t want your money. I said I’d help you. Maybe if you didn’t hire someone to do every little thing, you’d know how to do something as simple as paint.”
She started to walk away, thinking a walk on the beach, barefoot, might soothe her more than wine.
“Hey.”
She turned, met his irritated glare. “What?”
“You said painting was hard.”
“I lied to make you feel better,” she snapped.
Noah’s gaze widened. “You…” He broke off and surprised the hell out of her when a laugh burst free. He bent at the waist, messy hands leaving prints on his jeans. When he straightened, his features had softened with happiness. The sight of him stole her breath. Which also pissed her off.
“You lied to make me feel better.”
It wasn’t a question, so she nodded, pointed to the fence. “Smooth, even strokes back and forth. Pretty simple.”
His gaze heated, and Grace realized that her words could be … misconstrued. Her pulse sped up. With the laughter still visible in his gaze, the easy set of his jaw from his smile, he was more than just attractive. He was the kind of guy she’d pin on her “Dreams for another day” board on Pinterest. Liam Hemsworth coming out of the waves. Henry Cavill comfortable in his own skin. Noah Jansen, socialite and elitist. Don’t forget those parts, she told her wonky heart.
“The paint,” she said sharply. “You need to have enough on your brush but don’t let it drip.”
“Good advice,” he said. Was she imagining his voice had gone husky?
“Well, good night.”
“You said you’d help,” he reminded her.
She probably shouldn’t waste time on a guy who annoyed her as much as intrigued her, but she wanted to be a good neighbor. The truth was, she wanted to be a great everything. Student, designer, person, friend. Neighbor. Daughter. Some of those weren’t attainable, but maybe she could ease the tension that usually sat between them. Then, the next time she toppled over her fence, he wouldn’t try to make her pay for it.
“I did. But I don’t want your money.”
“I get that. You wanted to see my place. A tour for a paint tutorial?”
She fought the grin. “You already agreed to the tour.”
He nodded, wiped his hand over his mouth, and Grace had to hold back the laughter when she saw that the paint had smeared farther across his cheek.
“You show me how to paint, help me out and I’ll help you paint something.”
Hmm. Grace looked at the damage he’d done to the fence. Uneven strokes, gaps where he’d missed spots entirely. “Is that a fair trade?”
He laughed. “You’re a hard-ass. And I’ve negotiated with more than my fair share of them. What do you want?”
She didn’t want anything, but, somehow, the act of negotiating rather than accepting a simple kindness made him a nicer person. Weird.
“Okay. I’ll help. You have to clean all the supplies and help me stain my back deck.”
He hesitated. She arched her brows.
“That works the same as painting, I’m guessing?”
She laughed, grabbed the packet of brushes he’d tossed to the grass. “Yes. You know you could watch YouTube videos to learn this stuff, right?”
He picked up his now-clean brush before she could tell him to wash his hands first. “That doesn’t seem nearly as fun. Or educational.”
Grace wasn’t sure who was getting the better end of the deal, and she never got that glass of wine, but maybe she got something better: on her neighbor’s good side.
9
Noah was looking up the cost of jerseys when Rob texted him to tell him the kids were practicing at the rec center not too far from his house today. They switched up locations to better accommodate the kids. Apparently, most of the guys skipped last time because they figured the tournament wouldn’t happen.
Noah might not know how to paint a fence—well, he did now—but he knew how to help organize charities and bring in money. He sent Rob a text confirming the time, then sent his mom a text to ask for some ideas.
She texted back quickly.
Mom
I’ll think on it. I like knowing you’re thinking about ways to make the area better. Means you’re settling in. I hope California does for you what it did for Chris.
Noah rolled his eyes but had a smile on his face when he texted back.
Noah
Unlike your youngest son, I didn’t need any help loosening up. Things are good. I just want to help a friend.
Mom
How’s your house? Send me some pictures of the work you have people doing.
He knew she didn’t mean anything by it. It was his standard operating procedure—he’d swing by projects, take some photos, send them to the art directors or publicity for his father’s company, and move on to the next thing.
Noah
I painted my own fence last night. Should have taken a before and after picture of that.
Mom
Sorry. I need to sit down.
Noah smirked. He came by being a smart-ass naturally.
Noah
Funny. Have some faith in me. I’m really diving in this time.
Mom
Glad to hear
it, sweetie. I’ll get back to you on ideas.
Once Grace taught him to stain, he might even do his own. The thought of Grace filled him with mixed feelings. While she dug her heels in on the house, would it be such a bad idea to cozy up to her? Learn a little? Design was her forte after all. She might suck at it. He had a feeling, though, that Grace Travis did well at anything she put her mind to.
He had to admit, only to himself, that he’d been more than a little shocked at the ease with which she’d wielded a hammer, paintbrush, sander. It wasn’t a sexist thing—it was just that he hired people to do these things. He enjoyed seeing the before and after but watching her during made him want to experience it for himself. She had a dozen jobs he could see just from the outside that needing doing on her house. It hadn’t occurred to him that in addition to everything he already knew about her, which wasn’t that much, she was a regular handywoman as well.
The knock on the door pulled him out of his thoughts entirely.
Pulling the door open, he grinned at his assistant, Josh, who held up grocery bags. “Hey, man. How’s it going?”
“Better now. I haven’t eaten since this morning,” Noah said, shutting the door behind them.
“You’ve heard of home delivery, right?”
Noah grabbed the bags, held them up. “Yup. Just got it.”
Josh whistled behind him. “Damn. It looks awesome without the wall.”
He set the bags on the kitchen counter and turned, leaned against it. Yeah, it did. The counters, stove, and sink formed a U shape in the kitchen. From where he stood, he could see clear to the bay window in the living area. It was all one open space. He had some thoughts on what to do with the kitchen to open it up even more. It needed serious updating.
“I’m happy with it. I’m thinking about doing something similar upstairs with two of the bedrooms,” Noah said.
“Not my area of expertise but I definitely like the open space better.” Josh started to put the groceries away, pulling all of Noah’s favorites out of the bag. “I printed out the New York contracts for you to go over. Once they have your signature, all of your real estate holdings are officially on the West Coast.”
It was bittersweet news, since coming here had caused a bigger rift between him and his dad. Well, a more visible one. Instead of slowly releasing more opportunity and trust in Noah, his father had started micromanaging the acquisitions department that was supposed to be Noah’s. The constant second-guessing and overrides of solid deals pushed Noah toward facing the truth: he couldn’t work under his father even if it meant starting from scratch. Let’s face it, your idea of starting from the bottom is pretty cushy. He didn’t take his advantages lightly, but, like anyone else, he didn’t want to be dismissed or made to feel like he couldn’t contribute. At least if he failed out here, no one would rub it in his face.
Against his father’s loudly voiced opinions, Noah sold the buildings he’d purchased solo—buildings he’d tried and failed to get his father’s support on—to fund his California ventures.
“That’s great news.”
“It is.” Josh carried on. “The yard looks way better without the hedges but California law is pretty strict about their palm trees so I brought paperwork for that.”
Noah grabbed the bag of bagels, popped one into the toaster. “You get ahold of the land surveyor?” He wanted to make sure the fence lines were accurate all the way around the property. If he could nudge over on Grace’s property a little, if the lines showed inaccuracies, it would be a consolation prize for not getting his way. Don’t give up yet. You’re only in the beginning stages of negotiating with her—it’s the best part.
“Done. They’re backed up. Can’t get here for another couple of weeks. Just curious, why don’t you leave the lot next door for a later time? It’s not like you don’t have a ton going on.”
He didn’t want to get into the personal sentiments that made him envision what he was trying to build. “If I leave it too long, she’s going to settle in. Plus, I’ve got the woman from the magazine considering me. If I tell her those plans, make her realize it’s not just an interior job, there’s a better chance of me getting the magazine spread.”
Josh passed him the cream cheese. “Okay. That’s fair. You’re banking on that spread being your introduction to the real estate world on your own terms.”
“Exactly. It’ll showcase both my acquisitions capabilities and the development piece. People love a personal story. The fact that I’m making this into a place to live will resonate. I’ve got a few of those designers you researched for me coming by to take a look, share some thoughts.”
Grace popped into his brain again like one of those animals in that game Whac-A-Mole. She just kept appearing no matter how often he tried to push her from his thoughts. She was equal parts demanding, stubborn, and absolutely gracious. The time she’d taken last night, when her exhaustion was clear, had left him feeling very … unsettled. He didn’t like the burst of affection he’d felt for her in those couple of hours they’d worked. There was no room for that when he had a big-picture objective.
“I’m looking into office space for you and your brothers. I’ve got a list for you to take a look at. For now, though, I thought you should set up an actual home office. Not that your island countertop isn’t efficient.” Josh grinned at him.
Noah pointed to the kitchen window. The palm trees blocked most of it but there was a hint of the ocean in sight. “Great views.”
“They are. Want me to order furniture?”
The toaster popped out his bagel. Josh helped himself to a soda. His assistant in New York had recommended Josh when Noah announced his move. So far, the guy was great. He’d judged Josh based on looks—much like Grace had judged him—when he first met him. The guy was a poster child for the California surfing scene. He’d shown up to the house for his interview in board shorts and a loose Hawaiian shirt, with two surfboards on the roof of his car. Despite appearances, he was organized as hell, his résumé was solid gold, and Noah felt lucky to have him in his corner. See. You have more friends than just your brothers.
If he was paying him to be around, did that count? He could put in more effort, but like Josh said, why search for something that’s right in front of you? The way he’d snapped at Rob still grated on his nerves. He wasn’t usually the kind of person to take things out on other people. Going head-to-head with, say, Grace? That was fine. But he didn’t make a habit of pushing people away. Maybe he’d forgotten how to make a circle of friends because in New York he hadn’t needed to.
“You okay?”
Noah looked up from his bagel. “Yeah. Fine. Just wondering where your favorite place to surf is.”
“I have a friend who owns a place at Laguna. It’s busy because of tourists but if you hit the right time of day, there’s nothing else like it.”
Noah swallowed his bite while Josh sipped his soda. Clearing his throat, determined to build a life for himself on the West Coast, he asked, “Maybe we could go together sometime.”
Josh paused in the act of lowering his drink from his mouth. “Sure.”
There. Surf plans with a buddy. Sort of. His gut swirled like the waves he was asking about hitting. “Or maybe we could just grab a beer or something. Whatever. When you have time. No pressure or anything.”
Josh set his can down, then swept a hand over his slightly-too-long hair. “Right. Listen, man. Sir. Noah. I’m flattered—”
Noah choked on his bagel, cutting Josh off. His brows furrowed and he came closer, slapping Noah on the arm, which wouldn’t have been at all effective if Noah were actually choking, which he wasn’t. Not really. He’d just swallowed wrong because he realized he’d pretty much asked his assistant out.
Shaking his head, backing up, he grabbed a glass and filled it with water. It was lukewarm but he didn’t care. “I’m fine. I’m fine.”
Josh lifted his hands. Noah took a deep breath, swallowed down some more water, then forced himself to meet
Josh’s gaze.
“I’m not into you,” Noah blurted.
Josh folded his arms over his chest. “Okay. Why’d you ask me out then?”
Every curse word he knew flew through his head. “I didn’t. Well, I didn’t mean to. I’m just trying to make some friends, get to know California. As I was saying it, I heard how it sounded. Then the look on your face. Seriously, man. I’m sorry.” Shit. Was he making it worse? “Not that you aren’t a good-looking guy and all that.”
Josh’s eyes widened. “Jesus Christ, man. Shut up. With all due respect, seeing as you pay me.” Josh burst out laughing.
Noah winced. “I’m into women.”
Josh laughed harder, bending at the waist. “Noted. Me too.” Fortunately, the awkwardness pressing down on him released when their gazes locked and both of them laughed their asses off to the point that Noah’s eyes watered.
“Okay, then. I’m going to get going. Text me with a list of what you need to get done,” Josh said when the laughter tapered off.
Walking him to the door, pushing down the embarrassment, glad as hell his brothers never had to find out about this, he thought about what Josh had said. “I’ll make a list of office furniture. Don’t think I need any design ideas on that front. Just needs to be functional.”
“Sounds good.” Josh opened the door to reveal Grace and another woman standing on his doorstep.
“Hey,” Grace said, her gaze landing on Noah. A zip of pleasure ran through him like a fuse being lit. Her dark hair was in a ponytail, her face makeup-free. She looked happy. Carefree. It’s nothing. Too long alone, that’s all.
“Hi.” He wasn’t quite sure where they stood on the status of their back-and-forth with each other. She’d wanted to throttle him the other day, but last night she’d taken pity on his pathetic painting skills.
Josh stepped back, his mouth slightly open. Grace looked at the woman beside her; then both of them came in. Josh shut the door.
How to Love Your Neighbor Page 6
