Page 29 of No Kind of Hero
They painted a while in silence until he said, “Somebody could probably paint that, I suppose. Somebody with good handwriting.”
“Like me. I could do it. Anybody as neat as me.”
“Mm.” More silent painting, and then he said, “Is that true? That patience and concentration thing?”
“What?”
“I mean, is that really Taurus and Virgo, or did you make it up?”
“It’s really them. Supposed to be. Like I said, I looked it up when I was young and romantic. Completely unscientific, of course.”
“Before or after we had sex?”
He heard the little explosion of her laugh. “That would be before. There’s more to it. I could have sort of . . . memorized it. Words to cling to, or exceptional attention to detail in daydreaming. One or the other.”
“That’s a whole lot of words,” he said, “but not the words I want to hear.”
She sighed. “Embarrassing.”
“But you’re a badass now, right? A wild woman with gray nail polish who hangs up on her boss. You can do embarrassing.”
“Oh, man,” she moaned. “Don’t remind me.” He couldn’t see her inside the stall, but she sure was making him smile. She came out for more paint again, and he had to smile some more, because she had paint on her nose, and drops of white speckled her bare forearms.
“What?” she asked.
He reached for the damp rag in his back pocket and wiped the spot off the tip of her nose. “Just getting you sexy enough to tell me the good stuff.” He shoved the rag back into his pocket. “OK. Let’s have it.”
“You think I’m still that shy girl,” she said, working on her roller some more like a . . . well, like a shy girl. “I can say all kinds of things these days. You should hear me.”
“I’mwaitingto hear you,” he pointed out.
She straightened up, but she was looking over his left shoulder, and he could see the flush mounting as she spoke. Fast, rattling it off like she was reciting the dictionary. “’A Taurus man loves setting his Virgo free. Taurus’s nearly obsessive attention to detail and dedication to getting the job done right allows shy, tender Virgo to relax and savor her pleasure. It is a lucky Virgo who wins devoted Taurus as her first sexual partner, for she will surely experience the ultimate in sensual fulfillment.’ They’re all flowery like that,” she said, still not quite meeting his eyes. “And it’s crazy, as if every man born during a certain month is the same. But you could say it was reassuring at the time. Made me think about . . . well, everything a dedicated, obsessive Taurus might, ah, do to get somebody to the ‘ultimate in sensual fulfillment.’ Which turned out to be a whole lot.”
“They got one thing right,” he said.
“What?” She finally looked at him.
He needed to check the scaffolding. He needed to check the guys. He needed to paint more than this bathroom. And he needed to stay right here. “That I loved setting my Virgo free.”
Beth finished helping Evan paint the restroom before noon, and when they’d finished, he looked at her and said, “There’s nothing I’d rather do than take you home right now. And I can’t. I need to check my guys. I need to get up on that scaffolding. I need to eat my sandwiches fast so I can get back to work, and then I need to do it. And I’m going to miss you during every minute of it. So you know.”
“Hey,” she said, going for casual and knowing she was failing, “I told you I only had the morning.”
He put a hand on her cheek, his eyes so warm, and said, “You got a good afternoon planned? Going to be a wild woman some more once you wash the paint off?”
“Oh, yeah,” she said. “Hiking. Swimming. I’ve developed excellent muscle tone. It’s been a goal.”
Babbling. She was babbling, just because he was standing so close, and she was staring at that strong neck, the little indentation between his collarbones that she wanted to touch with her lips. Not to mention that he had his other arm around her and was pulling her up into him like he hadn’t just said he needed to get to work. He said, “Tell you what. I’ll show you mine, and you show me yours.”
“That’s a . . . promise,” she managed to say before his mouth descended on hers in a kiss that melted her bones. And then he stood back, smiled down at her like a guy who’d forgotten he didn’t do that, gave her a little slap on the butt that made her jump, and said, “If you don’t get out of here, though, I’m going to be forgetting all those responsibilities of mine. You coming by to help me paint tomorrow morning, though?”
She opened her mouth to say, “Of course.” Then she closed it and opened it to say, “No, I’m busy.” Then she thought,Who am I kidding?and relapsed into silence.
Evan was looking a little amused, a little alarmed. “All right. What?”
“Nothing. I need to . . . go swimming. I’ll let you know about tomorrow.”
“Beth.” He had her hand again. “Wednesday night. And come see me tomorrow. Please.”
