Austin shrugged. "Kids are okay," he said, knowing if he made more of it he would be lying and David would know. "But if I have to paint, I wouldn't mind some help."
David swallowed hard. "Okay," he said, trying his best to sound casual, but unable to hide the eagerness in his voice. He ran up the stairs and waited by the open front door.
Austin glanced at Kyle. His friend grinned. "Isn't this interesting."
Austin gave him the ice glare. "Don't say a word," he growled.
Kyle's grin got bigger. "Who me? Never."
* * *
Two hours later, they'd almost finished painting a small bedroom. Austin glanced at the floor, then at the boy standing next to him. There was more paint on the newspaper covering the carpet and on David than on the walls, but the job was getting done. While Austin worked the roller, David carefully painted the baseboards and outlined the window. Austin would finish up around the glass later.
He listened to the sounds of conversation in the other rooms. They'd only run into a few people as they'd come into the house and been assigned a room to paint. No one had said anything about his joining in uninvited or the fact that David was going to help. He wondered what Rebecca would make of the whole thing, but so far he hadn't seen her.
"My room was blue," David said as he bent over the door. Austin had taken it off the hinges and laid it over two sawhorses. The boy worked slowly and carefully, making his brush strokes all go in the same direction. If he glopped paint up occasionally, Austin didn't think whoever was going to stay in this room would mind too much.
"You must miss it," Austin said.
"A lot. Sometimes when I first wake up in the morning, I forget. When I open my eyes, I can't remember where I am." David bit down on his lower lip.
Austin panicked at the thought of having to deal with tears. He didn't mind the kid helping him, or their talking about the boy's past, but he wasn't equipped to deal with any kind of pain. "You got enough paint, there, sport?"
Momentarily distracted, David glanced down at the small tray Austin had given him. "I think I need a little more."
"Coming right up." He dropped the roller into the pan and bent over the paint can.
"Well, what have we got here? Two strong, handsome men painting a room. Be still my heart."
Austin didn't have to turn around to recognize that voice. He knew the owner intimately. Without having to close his eyes, he could see Rebecca stretched out naked, her pale body contrasting with his black satin comforter. Her dark hair fanning out over her should en her eyes two parts welcoming and one part scared. He could taste her and feel her, and damn it all to hell, he was getting hard.
He picked up the paint can and held it in front of himself while he tried to think mundane, nonsexual thoughts.
"Hello, Rebecca."
"Austin, what a surprise."
Her smile was as sweet as he remembered. Despite the fact that everyone at the house was cleaning or painting, she wore a dress. Some floral-print gauzy thing that fluttered around her knees and left her arms bare. The thin fabric brushed over her slender curves, hiding rather than accentuating, but he didn't need to see them to remember how they'd felt in his hands and mouth. That train of thought wasn't helping his condition, so he forced himself to study her face instead.
Her only concessions to the cleanup was that she'd pulled her hair back into a braid and wasn't wearing a scrap of makeup. Her gaze met his bravely, then ducked away. She seemed calm and in control, but he could see the blush on her cheeks.
"What brings you here?" he asked, pouring paint into David's tray.
"I heard you were helping us. I confess I thought Kyle was joking, but I see he wasn't." They were standing closer now. The small room got smaller. She had to tilt her head back to meet his gaze. "I'm so pleased you decided to come over. I'd wanted to ask, but I didn't want to intrude."
"Kyle shanghaied me into it."
"I see." She turned to David. "It was good of you to pitch in. Are you doing that door all by yourself?"
For the first time since he'd met him, David smiled. Then he nodded vigorously. "I did the baseboards, too."
Rebecca glanced around at his handiwork. "I'm very impressed. I told everyone this morning that you children didn't have to work if you didn't want to. You're the only one who's helped us." She bent down and fluffed his bangs, then kissed his cheek. "Thank you, sweetie."
David mumbled something under his breath and ducked his head.
Rebecca took the brush from his hand and put it on the tray. "There's lemonade and cookies on the lawn. Why don't you take a break and have a snack? When you're done, I'm sure Austin would like you to bring him a glass of lemonade. "
David looked up at him. "That would be great, sport," Austin said.
"Okay. I won't be long." The boy ran out of the room.
Rebecca straightened and stared at her hands. She had paint on her thumb and forefinger. "I really appreciate your taking the time to work with him." She rubbed at the paint while she spoke.
"No problem. He found his way up to my garage. I was walking him back when Kyle insisted I help with the paint."
"Oh, no. I told everyone to stay away from you. I'll remind them again after dinner. "
"I didn't mind."
She looked up at him then, her brown eyes wide with surprise.
"Really?"
"Yeah, well, David's no bother."
"Oh, Austin."
He almost groaned aloud. That damned look was back in her eyes. The one that said she thought of him as a knight on a white charger. Women. He thought his behavior the other night would have chased away all her foolish illusions
It was the wrong thing to think about, because it made him remember her in his bed and how his body had felt next to her. It also made him remember that she'd been a virgin and that they hadn't used birth control.
"Rebecca, we have to talk."
She rubbed at the paint one more time, then dropped her arms to her sides. "I know. But not now, okay? There are lots of people around and I don't want them overhearing this."
"Fine. We can do it later, but soon."
"I'm sure there's no problem."
He wished she was right. Life was rarely that simple. He set the paint can on the floor and picked up the roller. He turned his back to her and started on the wall. "I'll finish this room before I leave."
"Oh, you don't have to run off." She'd moved closer. Even with the windows open paint fumes filled the house. Despite their acrid aroma, he could still smell the faint scent of her body. Vanilla. Why did she have to smell like vanilla? "There's going to be a potluck dinner in a couple of hours. You're welcome to join us."
"No, thanks." He felt her moving closer. If she touched him he would be lost.
"But I— Oh, David, you're back already."
"I brung you lemonade, Austin."
He glanced down at the boy. "I appreciate this." He took the glass and downed it in four long swallows. "That was great," he said, handing it back.
David looked from him to the empty glass, then giggled. Austin smiled. He made the mistake of raising his gaze to Rebecca's. The starry-eyed stare was back. He clamped his lips together and tried not to swear in front of the kid.
"Are you staying for dinner, Austin?" David asked. "They're already setting up the tables. There's a big barbecue and corn on the cob and everything."
"I don't think I can…"
David clutched the glass tightly in his small hands. "You can sit by me."
Austin studied the youngster. "Two hours ago the boy had stood outside his garage, all solemn and far too clean for a normal seven-year-old on a spring Saturday. Now he was smiling, not a lot but still smiling, and covered with paint. He looked … better. Happier. Austin knew he was a bastard through to his soul, but he couldn't deliberately hurt the kid.
"Sure, I'll sit by you," he said, knowing this was going to make Rebecca want to canonize him. When he got her alone, he'd make sure she understo
od he was absolutely the last person in the world to qualify for sainthood. If she could read his mind and know that all he wanted was her naked, in his bed, legs spread and her woman's place wet and hot, she would change her mind real quick. Only he wasn't going to tell her what he was thinking. The way his luck had been running, she would want to act out his fantasy.
David grinned, then handed Rebecca the glass and started painting the door again.
Rebecca leaned close to Austin. Too close. "Looks like you've made a friend."
They were the same words Kyle had spoken, but this time he didn't mind them as much. "Maybe. He's a good kid."
She stared into his eyes. He tried not to read her emotions. After a moment she smiled. "See you at dinner."
"Yeah, sure."
She turned to leave, pausing only to ruffle David's hair. The boy looked up, seeming to like the physical contact.
They worked for another hour and finished the room, then made their way to the cleanup station in the empty utility room. An older man was taking the dirty brushes and sending people to wash at one of the various bathrooms in the house.
"What have we got here?" the man asked. "Two fine workers by the looks of things. The bathroom by the front of the house should be empty by now, if you two gents don't mind sharing."
"We don't mind," David said, before Austin could answer
As they turned away, the boy reached up and took his hand. Austin almost stumbled from surprise. He glanced down at David, seeing the child's hope and an expectation of rejection. His fingers were small and warm, sticky with paint. Austin squeezed them gently, then headed for the bathroom. As the boy chattered about the upcoming meal, Austin told himself the sudden tightness in his throat was from the paint fumes and nothing else.
* * *
Chapter 6
« ^ »
It was nearly eight in the evening when the last carload of volunteers pulled out of the makeshift parking lot and headed down the dirt driveway toward town. The setting sun caught the slightly rusted front fender of the old station wagon parked by the trees and reflected a single beam toward the wide front porch. Rebecca closed the front door of the mansion and dropped the key into her dress pocket, then moved to the stairs and took a seat next to Austin.
"That's the last of them," she said as she settled herself on the wooden step. He shifted to make room for her. She wanted to tell him not to bother, that she wouldn't mind if their arms brushed, but she figured he might not want to know about that. After all, two mornings ago he hadn't taken her up on her subtle offer to make love again. She didn't think it was because he hadn't read the intent in her eyes. Austin might have a few flaws, but stupidity wasn't one of them.
"You had a lot of people out here helping," he said.
His voice was low and controlled. She liked the sound of it, of him. When he spoke, she wanted to stretch like a cat napping in sunlight. Her body grew warm, her mind lethargic. It would be easy to start purring. She bit her lower lip to keep from smiling.
"Everyone has been very helpful," she agreed. She drew her knees up to her chest and wrapped her arms around them. The full skirt of her dress fell past her shoes. She stared out at the vast expanse of green lawn and the grove of trees beyond. The sun had slipped lower, until most of it was hidden behind the leafy branches. The slight breeze still carried on it the warmth of the day. Despite her bare arms, she felt no chill.
Without wanting to, she turned toward Austin. His profile fascinated her – the straight nose, the well-formed lips. Her gaze moved slightly to the right and she saw his gold hoop earring. It was silly how that tiny piece of jewelry got to her. She supposed it was because this was Glenwood and men didn't wear earrings. Somehow it made Austin appear even more wicked. And tempting and—
"What did you say?" she asked, realizing he was speaking to her.
"I asked when you thought the painting and cleaning would be finished. The furniture is ready to be delivered anytime."
"Oh." She thought for a moment. "There are only two more rooms to paint, and they're pretty small. The kitchen has been scrubbed from top to bottom, so I'd guess by noon tomorrow. Is that all right?"
He looked at her. Pure gray eyes met and held her own. She wanted to see desire and affection lurking there. Of course she saw nothing of the sort. Austin kept his feelings carefully concealed. It was part of his charm, she admitted to herself. The mystery about him. Why was it women were instinctively drawn to men who were bad for them? It didn't make sense. Thank goodness her feelings for him was only a crush that would fade with time. Any woman who actually fell for Austin was destined for heartbreak.
"I'll call the man in the morning and have him bring everything somewhere between noon and two."
"That would be great. Thanks." She smiled slightly. "I know you don't want to hear this, but I really appreciate everything you've done for the children. First loaning me the house, then paying for the furniture. And you were terrific with David today. He had a great time with you. Since the accident he's been withdrawn and…" She stopped talking when he groaned low in his throat and rose to his feet. "What's wrong?"
"Stop looking at me like that," he commanded, pacing in front of the steps.
"Like what?"
"Like I'm some damn nice guy."
"But you are. Austin, you've proved it over and over. Face it, there's no way a man who opens his house to orphans can be all bad."
He swore under his breath. She pretended not to hear the word or notice the way he was rubbing his temple, as if he had a headache.
"Besides," she continued, "there are worse things than being a nice guy."
He stood in front of her, his legs spread slightly, his boot clad feet firmly planted on the walkway. Flecks of paint had spattered his worn jeans and red polo shirt. "I am not, and I have never been, nice."
She shrugged, fighting a smile. "If you say so."
"I do."
The last rays of sunlight caught his long hair, making it shine. There was no hint of other colors in the dark strands, no red or brown, just pure black. Broad shoulders tapered to a narrow waist and hips. He was tall, strong and good-looking A predator with a gentle streak that he didn't want to acknowledge. She didn't mind. Knowing it was there was enough.
When the intensity of his gaze started to make her nervous, she glanced around at the wide porch. It was big enough for a small dance to be held there. Everything about the house was oversize. It was a stunning home, but empty.
"Why did you buy this place?" she asked.
He looked up past her to the wide windows and the peaked roof. "Because I could."
That didn't make any sense. "Do you ever plan to live here?"
He shrugged. "I'm not sure. I like the loft. It's convenient and more my style."
"Then the house is just for show?"
He dropped his gaze to her face.
"Exactly."
She wondered who he was showing it to. Judging from the lack of furniture and the dust on the floors, he hadn't spent any time in the mansion at all. So he hadn't bought it to impress women. Obviously he hadn't been inside the house for years.
"I'll do my best to keep the lads under control," she said. "They can be really hard on a place. You've been so generous I don't want to repay that with broken windows and crayon drawings on the walls."
He moved to the stairs and took his seat next to her again. "Don't worry about it. I've already told you – I'm doing this because when I showed up at the home, the people there were good to me. I owe them. I wasn't the easiest kid in the world."
She turned her head toward him. "Gee, why doesn't that surprise me?"
He smiled slightly. "I guess it's pretty obvious I've never been a model citizen."
"You're not so bad." She released her knees and straightened up. "You didn't have to help out today, but I'm glad you did. I never thought David would enjoy spending time with a man. I'll make sure someone can work on a project with him in the future."
&nbs
p; "He's a good kid."
Rebecca rested her elbows on her knees and dropped her chin to her palms. "The whole problem with his family makes me crazy. I can't believe his relatives don't want him. He's smart, funny, well behaved. What's not to like? I just don't understand people like that."
"How can you be in your business and still be so damned innocent?"
Austin's angry tone caused her to draw away from him. "What are you talking about?"
He gestured widely. "You work with these kids every day. You know about the abuse and neglect. Adults who use children for their perverted sexual pleasure. Parents who abandon their flesh and blood. Hunger, drugs, crime, they all prey on the young. You have to know about it, and see it. Why do you still believe in happy endings?"
"I'm not Pollyanna."
"You're damn close."
"I know bad things happen to children. But good things happen, too. Orphans find new families. Sick kids get better. Okay, so some don't find complete happiness, but I believe in doing everything I can to help. Why do you want to make that sound like such a crime?"
His mouth twisted at one corner. He shifted until his back pressed against the pillar at the top of the stairs and he was facing her. One long leg stretched out behind her back. The other bent at the knee with his foot resting on the second step. The toe of his cowboy boot was hidden by the hem of her skirt.
"You're trying to empty the ocean with a teaspoon."
"At least I'm trying. What are you doing to make it better?"
"Saint Rebecca."
Usually she was able to control her temper. The little things that annoyed most people rarely got to her. But Austin's cynical view of the world rubbed her the wrong way. "So what's your story? Why do you insist on seeing everything from the worst possible angle? I know you were in the children's home when you were a kid. Is it that you didn't get adopted? Do you think the system failed?"
He raised one eyebrow. "I couldn't have been adopted. My parents were both still alive."
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