Page 24 of Don't Bite the Boy Next Door
“That’s my thought,” he says, as he meets my gaze, his eyes for once not carrying the heavy burden behind them I so often see. “I’ve been thinking about you.”
“Oh?” I feel my heart jump in my chest.
“I’ve been thinking of ways I might repay you for the fantastic job you did painting my house - and don’t think I don’t know you tricked me into agreeing you could do it.”
I laugh. “I told you. I enjoyed it – and yes, I admit, I kind of thought you might misinterpret my request to paint it.”
“You mentioned your attic,” he says, stepping forward and sitting on the top step, far away from where I stand, thankfully, as though he knows I don’t want him too close.
‘Or maybe he doesn’t want to be close to me?’
“I have a friend staying with me working on that as we speak,” I smile brightly, ignoring my depressing thoughts, “so you don’t have to worry about that.”
“Pru?”
“No, ah, Lars, an old friend‘very, very old’from Geneva. He’s doing all the heavy lifting and cleaning out the dead animals for me. When he’s finished. I’m going to clean, paint, and turn it into my art room. I’ve always wanted my own space just for painting.”
“I see.” Standing, he turns to head back inside. “Well if you think of anything you need help with, let me know.”
“I will,” I murmur, my brow crinkling as I wonder what I said to make him want to terminate the conversation. I would have liked to have talked longer, “have a nice night,” I add quickly.
“You too,” he says quietly, beckoning to Toto to follow, and walking inside.
I turn and, frowning, make my way back to my car for the short drive home.
