I’m still working by the time she’s finished. She starts toward me three separate times before stopping and pulling back. She settles next to Zeus on the floor and pets him while I work on the last wall.
I’m halfway done when she says, “I feel like an asshole sitting here doing nothing while watching you work.”
“You aren’t doing nothing,” I return, lifting my elbow toward Zeus. “You’re keeping my dog company.”
“That hardly counts as work,” she mutters.
“You see me complaining?” I ask, looking over my shoulder at her.
She shakes her head.
“Good.”
“You want another beer?” she offers.
“Trying to get me drunk?” I tease.
She huffs before she snaps, “No.”
I laugh again. “Good to know. I’m good.”
At that, she stands and moves out of the room. I hear water turn on and figure she’s washing our plates from dinner. She claimed her place was messy before she let me in. Other than some piles here and there, her place is tidy. There weren’t any dishes in the sink before I put mine next to it; and other than the clothes hanging on her rack, there aren’t any lying around.
I’m finishing when she comes back into the room.
“How long do you think it will take to dry?”
I hit the last corner, giving it my full attention before I turn and answer her.
“The wall we started on should be good soon. I’d still wait until tomorrow to push any of your stuff back.”
She wrinkles her nose at this, and I grin at my feet so I don’t laugh at her again. Messy, my ass. This woman is out of sorts that she can’t put her room back together the same night she painted it.
I hold out the tray and brush to her.
“We’re all done in here.”
Her face relaxes and her soft smile comes back.
“Thank you so much for your help. I’d probably have been working half the night if it was just me.”
She turns and walks back into her main living area. She sets the brush in a jar full of something and pulls the liner off the tray to toss. She was a good judge on the amount of paint she needed. There’s only a quarter of the can left that she can save for any future touch ups.
“Where do you want the leftover paint?”
“There’s a small linen closet in the bathroom. Can you put it on the bottom shelf?”
I nod and pass by her to head that way. Her bathroom must have been installed before she moved in. The fixtures and the tile look brand new. She has a deep tub, a multicolored polka dotted curtain hanging from it. Towels, matching a shade of green from the curtain are folded in circles and rest in a shelf mounted above the toilet; a bath sized one is on a hook on the back of the door.
Her hand soap is in peach-tinted glass bottle with an old-fashioned silver pump. The peach is the same hue as some of the dots from her shower curtain. A matching peach-hued glass cup next to it holds her toothbrush. Otherwise, her sink is clean of toiletries. I open her medicine cabinet. It’s like the rest of her space, neat and tidy. I quietly lift her perfume bottle from the shelf, pull off the cap, and lift it to my nose.
A faint trace of scent remains, her scent. It’s light and airy, soft and clean. When she was near, it was a hint, a clue I wanted to unravel. I inhale it once more before replacing the cap, returning it to her shelf. The reflection that greets me when I close the medicine cabinet is reflective in more ways than one.
The music is off by the time I come back to her. I have no reason to stay, but I sure as shit don’t want to leave.
She’s on her sofa, legs bent and tucked to one side. Zeus is sitting on the floor right in front of her, his head tilted up, mouth hanging open as she rubs him behind his ears.
“You have a great dog.”
I crouch down next to them, scratching Zeus’ chest as an excuse to be nearer to her and nod my agreement.
She doesn’t seem bothered by how close I am to her. People tend to react to me in two different ways. My size and grizzly look put many people off. On the flip side, I don’t lack female attention. I don’t want McKenzie to ever fall into the first group.
“He’s so well behaved. Did you train him?”
I shake my head. “I can’t take any credit for that.”
“That surprises me,” she replies.
I tilt my head and focus on her. “Why’s that?”
She leans back, folding her hands on her lap and shrugs. “It’s hard to describe, but I’ve never met a dog so invested in his or her person before. It’s uncanny the way his attention is always on you. Even those couple of minutes you walked out of the room to put the paint can away, he was completely tuned into what you were doing and where you had gone.”
My eyes drop from hers down to Zeus. I move my hand from his chest to around him and tug him toward me. He leans against me, lifts his head, and rests it on my shoulder as I give him a one armed hug.
I murmur against his fur, “He’s the best thing that ever happened to me.”
He remains tucked against me, even after I loosen my hold around him to look back at McKenzie. Her face is soft, one of her hands now pressed to her chest. She blushes when she notices my gaze and drops her hand back to her lap then she looks away.
I follow her eyes with mine and freeze when they land on the clock of her cable box. My help made shorter work of painting her room; but that doesn’t mean it isn’t late, well past the time most people go to sleep. I stand, not wanting to wear out my welcome or force her to hint that it’s time for me to go. For some reason, I don’t think I can handle hearing her ask me to leave.
“We should probably be going,” I say, moving toward her door.
“It’s later than I thought it was,” she murmurs, getting up and moving toward me.
“You don’t have to get up,” I say, too late, considering she’s already standing.
She smiles, it’s not a full on grin, and it’s then that I notice the sleepy look in her eyes. It’s clear she’s tuckered out and the dreamy expression on her face is not helping me walk out that door.
She yawns, closing her eyes and covering her mouth with both of her hands. “I need to lock up behind you,” she explains, blinking up at me.
It takes all of my self-control to hold my hand back to keep from reaching out and stroking my thumb across her cheek. I want to take care of her. I want to lift her up into my arms and carry her to her bed. I want to tuck her in and watch her while she sleeps. I want to hold her and kiss her and be there in the morning when she wakes. I need to get out of here before I do something crazy and scare her off.
Zeus leads the way down the stairs and we follow in silence. I purposefully give her space as she unlocks the deadbolt and opens the door. I look at the walls on both sides of the backdoor and notice there isn’t a security system panel on any of the walls near the door. That is something I’ll be following up with Alec about.
This is a commercial area on a busy road. If anyone tried to break in from the back, no one would see it from the road. There is no way a young single woman should be living here all by herself without a security alarm. Until that happens, I’ll make a point of checking on her each night. This is the first time my erratic sleep schedule has been a good thing.
Zeus moves toward my truck the moment the door is opened. The smart thing would be to follow him. I can’t. Losing against a compulsion I don’t want to fight, I lift my hand and brush my knuckles across her cheek. She blinks up at me, her mouth falling open, her sleepy expression fading slightly. It is a testament to my inner strength that I do not lean down to take her mouth with mine.
Instead, I pull away, not missing how her body sways a bit toward me before she catches herself and straightens.
“Thank you again for playing along at the pizza place and then coming over to help me paint.”
“I don’t mind people thinking you’re my woman, McKenzie.”
She starts to lean
toward me again, but I take another step back. Confusion clear on her face, she opens her mouth to say something, but I cut her off.
“I’m not leaving until I hear you lock up behind me.”
She presses her lips together and nods, lifting her hand before closing the door. I wait until I hear the click of the dead bolt before turning and meeting Zeus by the door of my truck.
I glance back at her building after I open the door for Zeus to hop in. She’s probably wondering why I didn’t make a move right now. While I intend to make her mine, I can wait until she’s not dead tired to do that. Without a doubt, I want her wide-awake and fully rested for when that happens.
When I wake, the first thing I do is lift my fingertips to my cheek. His touch lasted seconds, but the warmth of it still lingers hours later. Sitting up, I stretch my arms up and out to the sides before falling back against my pillows. I shouldn’t have slept well last night. My room stunk of paint fumes so I slept with my window open and a fan on instead of the AC. My bed and dresser were still in the center of my room.
Those two things alone should have had me tossing and turning all night. I didn’t though. After Mitch left, I floated back up the stairs to my place and crashed hard. I didn’t even change my clothes or brush my teeth, which is unheard of for me.
Now waking, he’s the first thing to cross my mind. Given my taste in men, this cannot be a good thing. He’s also wrecking my whole stay away from the opposite sex until I die life plan. I crawl out of bed, undressing once I’m up and toss my dirty clothes onto my bed. It’s a good thing it’s laundry day.
I pad across my living room and into my bathroom. Staring at my tub, wiping sleep from my eyes, I contemplate taking a bath. My back and shoulders are stiff from all the painting. Despite being low impact exercise-wise, I still used muscles I don’t normally and they’re all currently pissed off at me.
A shower would be more refreshing though. I’m liable to slump into a lazy mood for the rest of the day if I start it off with a long soak. I have too much to do to chance that.
I wonder how Mitch slept, and then I mentally kick myself for thinking about him as I turn the knob for the shower. That kick did nothing to derail my train of thoughts.
Is he sore? He said he paints a lot where he works, so it’s probable that his muscles are more used to the activity than mine.
His muscles.
Gulp.
There was no mistaking his bulk as he worked last night. I’m not a betting woman, but I’d put money on the fact there is little that is soft to that man. That thought includes a mental image that wakes me up way faster than any shower can.
Bad train of thought, bad, bad train of thought.
Stepping into the shower, I contemplate scrubbing my dirty brain.
I add another item to my to-do list, then immediately decide against it. Asking Rachel for advice when it comes to Mitch is pointless. She practically threw me at him yesterday. If I let it slip that I’m warming up to him in non-platonic ways, she’ll probably start planning our wedding.
Alec will be just as useless for advice. He’ll spill the details to her and then watch lovingly as she plans the rest of my life. This sucks. I need someone impartial to talk to.
After I finish getting ready for the day, I strip my bed and start a load of laundry. One perk to living here is the industrial size washer and dryer downstairs; the only con to them is they’re all the way downstairs. Once I’m back in my apartment, I crank some tunes to clear my head.
I make myself a cup of tea and an omelet for breakfast. The table in my living room serves double duty as both my desk and table to eat at. Since I only have one chair, it doesn’t help for company. My eyes move to my sofa, and where Mitch and I ate last night; he looked good sitting there. He fit in my space.
God, and his dog.
Is it possible to have a crush on a canine or is it spill over from his owner?
I haven’t forgotten what Rachel said about Lady not liking Tyler. Can dogs sense assholes? Zeus is obviously devoted to Mitch. That can’t be enough of a reason to rethink an entire life plan. I’ve heard you’re supposed to trust your gut about things like this. My gut is clearly a dud because it told me to go for not only Tyler, but Marcus and Sean as well.
That’s three strikes, and why my gut is the last thing, I’m going to trust. Once I’m done eating, I make short work of moving the furniture in my bedroom. Then I head back downstairs to move my laundry from the washer to the dryer. I can’t wait to see my bed all made up against the blue. Sadly, I only have one set of sheets right now.
I’ll have to wait until they’re dry for that. While I wait, I pull out the pictures I want to hang. I’ve moved past the days of framing pictures from calendars. None of my pictures are expensive but I love them all the same. Above my headboard, I hang a black and white print of a little girl standing in a field, blowing bubbles.
Sometimes I like to imagine the wand is magic and my troubles are those bubbles, drifting up and away. The thick black frame stands out boldly against the blue. Above my dresser, I hang another black and white print. This one is of a beach, gentle waves rolling across the sand. I love the ocean, but that wasn’t what made me buy this print. Written in the sand are the words “I was here” with a trail of footsteps leading away.
The words are all but washed away. There is a beautiful melancholy aspect to the way they try in vain to cling to the sand. This image inspires the fight inside me, no matter the size of the battle. This print is also framed in black though a thinner frame versus the print above my bed.
On the wall facing my bed I hang a frame containing a collage of some of my favorite photos. There’s one of Alec and Rachel, Rachel and me, one of Alec, Rachel, and me, another one of just Rachel and me, one of Rachel and, lastly, one of just me. Rachel and Alec have become the family I wished I had been born into.
On the windowed wall opposite the door to my room, I hang a bar of hooks where I then hang all of my scarves and purses. Above it, I hang a round, black framed mirror. I read once that if your spirit sees itself in a mirror while you’re sleeping, it will cause you to toss and turn. I can see the mirror from my bed; but at the angle, I can’t see my reflection. I hope that’s good enough because honestly, the idea of unconsciously seeing myself while I’m sleeping freaks me out.
After all my pictures are hung, I head back downstairs to grab my laundry so I can make my bed and put my duvet cover back on. It’s the final piece to finish before I can see my new room all put together. I bought my duvet cover, a dandelion with some of its seeds floating away after I heard a quote about dandelions. It was said, “There are two types of people in the world; those who see a weed, and those who see a wish.” I always want to be the kind of person who sees a wish.
The things I wish for since Tyler entered and exited my life have changed so much. My heart was full of happily ever after dreams and wishes. Even though it had been ages since I was happy in our relationship, it did not stop my leaving him, from being an admittance of failure. When dissecting the remains of our relationship, I couldn’t help but wonder if I had behaved differently, would he have treated me the way he did.
More often than not, I mourn the us I dreamed we could have been. Before Tyler, I wished for my Alec. Now I wish for a simple life, one where I don’t have to fear people who are supposed to love me. That’s exactly why I won’t let anything happen with Mitch.
Trailing my fingertips across my duvet, I make a new wish, one for independence. The thing about wishes some people forget is you have to help them come true. My wish, my independence, will happen a lot sooner, if we’re able to open this Critter Haven and Spa on time and on budget.
I head downstairs and get to work to help make that happen. Rachel meets me there an hour later. Together we finish assembling the bays for our overnight boarders and getting started on the indoor play yard. Right when you walk in the front door, there is a sign in desk and small waiting area. Until we can afford a recept
ionist, Rachel and I are going to share that title.
To the left is where Alec and three other vets he has hired will see their furry patients. They have two small exam rooms and a back clean room for procedures. On the right is an open space where Rachel has her pet shower stall and grooming table set up. On the wall opposite her table is a wall of kennels or salon waiting area.
Behind her grooming area is another room, which we’re setting up as an indoor play yard for the puppies. We’ve carpeted it with artificial turf and today we’re decorating the walls with these cute vinyl clings Rachel found online. So far, we’ve put up a couple of hydrants some cute puppies, kitties, and round beach balls.
“Ready for lunch?” I ask, slumping over.
Rachel laughs at me. “Let me finish this one first.”
“Cool. I can’t wait for you to see my room.”
Her head turns quickly to look at me. “I’ve been here an hour and you’re just now telling me you painted it.”
I shrug. “You knew I was picking up paint after the birthday party.”
She runs her hands back and forth over a cling of a cartoon puppy. “Picked up yes, I had no clue you were going to start right away. I would have come over to help you.” She steps back from the wall she was working on and walks over to me, reaching her hand out for mine to help me up. “No wonder you’re so tired. You must have been up half the night painting if you finished it.”
Once I’m standing, I avoid her eyes. “I, um, actually did have some help.”
She moves to stand in my eyesight. “Spill, sister.”
I take a deep breath and then let go. “So, I got one coat of paint done. It was late when I realized I hadn’t eaten so I went to Bellissima’s. Carl sat with me while I waited for my food.” Her eyes widen at this. “And, he was totally flirting with me.”
She bounces in front of me, pointing in my face. “What did I say? I knew it. I told you he had a thing for you. Oh, my God, did he help you paint? Z, he’s a baby.”
I roll my eyes and cover her mouth with my hand to shut her up. “No, Carl did not help me paint; but I think Becky has a thing for him because, holy crap, she gave me major stink eye when I was there. So, I had to figure out a way to get him to stop flirting with me while not pissing any of them off because, I don’t want to find a new pizza place.”
Chasing Daylight Page 7
