Page 35 of The Billionaire's Runaway Bride

I’ve never understood any of that battle of the sexes nonsense. Men versus women and vice versa. Now, though, I realize it’ll be war.

“Ready to paint the house, partner?” he asks.

Marian’s smiling at the building, taking it all in. “I should take before pictures to compare to the after ones.”

I mouth at Caleb, That’s sneaky.

He grins. Just trying to help, he mouths back.

Help drive me crazy?

Instead of mouthing this argument out, he ducks close and whispers into my ear, “Is it finally working?”

I elbow him back, fighting a smile and also shivering at his warm breath on my cheek.

“This will be fantastic,” Marian declares.

“Yep.”

Can’t wait.

I glare at Caleb, who only has the audacity to grin, then wink.

Chapter 14

Lauren

I’m still peeved that Caleb is commandeering the painting project. After a lifetime of other people deciding everything that needs to be done, I was excited to head up this project and give the Goldfinch Ridge a fresh look.

After we bring everything out of the gardening shed and set up the paint cans, rollers, trays, and brushes, I hate to admit that maybe his assistance won’t hurt. In fact, as I watch Caleb prop a long ladder up against the house, I realize his help might be a saving grace.

“What color are we painting it?” he asks as I finish my coffee and try to figure out how I should handle this today. How I should handle him. He keeps me on my toes. After that conversation last night and knowing he knows more about my past, I feel vulnerable. His kiss rocked me to the core, and it’s definitely complicating what should have been a simple approach to him.

Avoid. Ignore. Dismiss.

None of those seemed feasible with his offer to help paint.

“Can’t you go chop wood again?” I ask instead.

He grins when I shoot him a dirty look. “Why? You like seeing me working up a sweat?” He tugs the hem of his t-shirt up. “You miss getting an eyeful of this?”

I turn and give him my back. I won’t dignify those questions with an answer.

“Come on, what color are we painting?” he asks again.

“Does it matter?” I retort, pausing to tie my hair back. What if he doesn’t like it? What if Marian doesn’t like it either? I’ve been keeping it a surprise, delighted that she trusts me so blindly with the general instruction to stick with any hue of yellow. I’m so used to my parents putting down my opinions that my voice and deciding power are weak. I’m familiar with having my choices overruled because Jeremy always “knows better.”

“Lauren?”

I hear Caleb approaching, crunching the leaves I still haven’t completely raked up around the garden beds. His tone is softer, losing the teasing and replacing it with concern.

I can’t handle him like that. I can’t face the prospect of sharing more with him. It leaves me feeling too open and raw.

“Yellow,” I reply. “That’s what Marian wanted.” I don’t face him again until he extends the ladder and checks it.

“Are you going to climb up there and edge the upper floors? Or do you want me to?”

I stand and face him, shielding my face as I peer up at the second and third floors. Multiple balconies and rooftops offer several places to stand and prop smaller ladders, but it is daunting.

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