Page 41 of The Only Goal

She’s married.

She’s come here for a safe place to lick her wounds, not finally find out that I’m so far gone for her that I’ve never even slept with another woman.

Dipping the roller in the paint tray, I practice the perfect technique YouTube taught me and come away with just the right amount of paint. I’m about to touch it to the wall when I hear a scampering outside the door.

Shit!

Whipping around, I’m seconds away from barking a few swift orders at Fezzik—Stop! Sit! Stay!

But instead I find myself staring at a curious face with pale bruises on his cheek and lip.

I wince, wondering how many times I have to apologize before I start to feel better.

His little fingers curl around the door handle.

“Fezzik still downstairs?” I gently ask.

He nods.

“You know not to let him past the gate, right?”

He nods again.

“I just don’t want little puppy paws painting the hallways, you know?”

His big brown eyes stare me down, and I try to smile but give up with a sigh. Pointing at my cheek, I then point to his and ask, “Does it still hurt?”

Those little shoulders shrug, and I don’t know what to say next, so I do the only thing I can think of.

Grabbing the spare roller, I hold it out to him. “Wanna help? I can show you how.”

He tips his head, hesitating, until I crack a grin.

“There’s no ice involved. I promise.”

This gets his lips moving, and he gives me a cautious smile while creeping into the room.

“Okay. Here we go.” With gentle prompting, I show him how to dip the roller and wipe off the excess paint. There’s a strong chance that he’ll screw up this wall, but I can just paint over it, right? We can spare a little so this guy can have some fun.

“And now we roll it on the wall. Like this.” I hold his hand, guiding the roller up and down the flat surface with clean strokes.

He giggles, reminding me of his mama, then shows off his dimples.

“Good?”

He nods, more enthusiastically this time, and sets about painting the lowest part of the wall. I paint above him, enjoying the rhythmic sounds of our rolls and then smiling when Kai dips his roller again, forgetting to wipe off the excess and splattering a massive blob on the wall. He gasps and scrambles to fix it, desperately trying to right his wrong, and I can’t do anything but laugh.

Sweeping my roller down, I catch the drips, then lightly paint his arm.

He spins around with a shocked gasp, and the sound that pops out of him next takes me back to my childhood in a heartbeat.

His laughter rings out loud and clear, his dimples on full display as he dances around the paint tray and tries to get me back.

CHAPTER 19

TAMMY

“Tammy, this is unacceptable,” Mom barks in my ear.

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