Page 29 of Organized Chaos

Whew. Distraction needed. She grabbed her phone and scrolled until she found her favorite restaurant. Within seconds, she had an order confirmed and a time for delivery. “Hope you like Italian. We’ll have food in half an hour.”

Phillip looked up from his position moving her drill bits from the floor to one of the totes. He lowered it slowly and straightened. “Anything sounds good.”

He had that right. Ripping apart all his hard work sounded marvelous. Sarah shoved a paint can into place, putting the red next to the blue, knowing that when she looked back, Phillip’s eye would be twitching. He didn’t just want to organize this place, he wanted it color coded to the max. She grabbed a can of yellow paint and shoved it in next.

She counted down the seconds in her head. Five. Four. A can of black paint next to the yellow. Three. Two. One.

Phillip moved to stand beside her. “I can do that for you.”

“Nope.” She tucked a can of starburst pink between white and eggshell, then looked up.

Phillip’s pained expression tugged at her, but she couldn’t stop the snicker bubbling up her throat.

His gaze snapped to her face. He snapped his fingers and pointed at her. “You’re doing that on purpose.”

“Yep.” She popped her lips on the p sound and reached for another can. “I’m seeing how long it takes to send you running away, screaming.”

“You’ll be waiting a while.” Phillip backtracked. “I’ll leave you to it.” He didn’t want to. She saw that in his expression as plain as she saw the dresser behind him.

She shouldn’t take such delight in messing with him.

A horn beeped outside. Sarah spun on her heel and hurried toward the driver waiting with their food. She gave him a generous tip and carried the bags into the garage. “Let’s eat.”

Phillip made a pointed look around. She followed his gaze, her eyes widening. Somehow, the place was an even bigger mess than when they’d started. Totes were everywhere, the colors lined up from darkest to lightest. She could barely take a step without hitting her toes on some piece of equipment.

“We should get a few more things done first.” Phillip reached for her measuring tape.

Sarah ripped off the edge of a bread stick and chucked it at Phillip. It pinged against his shoulder and dropped into the tote. “Eat now or I’ll get hangry. I don’t work well with a mad stomach.” She pinched off another bite and shoved it into her mouth. “Hurry or I’ll eat yours too.”

“Go ahead.” Phillip added a set of wrenches to the tote. “I’ll finish up here and join you in a bit. I’m not hungry yet.”

“That’s it.” She dropped the bags onto the dresser and grabbed the crackers meant to go with her salad. She tore open the bag and flung a cracker at him. Crumbs sprinkled across the floor and dusted the top of a yellow tote lid.

He held up a hand and brushed the crumbs onto the floor. “This isn’t helping. If we don’t get all these crumbs, you’ll get rats.”

She sank her teeth into another breadstick and removed an aluminum tray of pasta pomodoro and lasagna. “I’m not worried about rats. Or mice. Only spiders.”

Phillip arched that left brow. “Even if you open a tote and a rat jumps out at you?”

“Even then.” She finished the first breadstick and stuck her fork in the lasagna. The sweet but tangy sauce coated her tongue, and she closed her eyes to better enjoy the burst of flavors. “You better get over here and eat.”

“It’s okay.” Phillip’s voice sounded strained.

She opened her eyes and found him hefting a blue tote onto the shelf above the paint. An instant later, she grabbed another handful of crackers and flung them at his back. “Don’t make me throw the pasta.” She stood and held the tray up as a threat. “I’ll do it. I’ll waste this wonderful, delicious food if you don’t come over here.”

He gave a longsuffering sigh and turned to face her. She couldn’t discern the look in his eyes. Impatience maybe, but there were hints of what she hoped was appreciation. He took the pan of pasta pomodoro and leaned a hip on her workbench while taking a bite. A small smile tugged one side of his mouth upward. “Yeah, this was a good call.”

“Right?” Sarah polished off another bite of lasagna and passed him a breadstick. She held up her own and tapped it against his in a salute. “You can’t work all the time. Take a break. Smell the roses.”

“Or the paint fumes.” Phillip dipped his head toward the paint cans. The lid of one paint can was slightly open, letting the smell escape into the open garage.

Sarah dropped her pan and hurried over to close the can. She nudged it toward the shelves but didn’t put it in place. “There.” As she walked toward Phillip, she let her grin emerge and slung a piece of lettuce from her salad. It slapped against Phillip’s cheek and stuck there. Her laughter bubbled up and she clapped her hands over her mouth. It slipped between her fingers until the whole garage was filled with the joy erupting inside her.

Phillip reached up and pinched the lettuce leaf between his thumb and forefinger. It slid from his cheek with a plop. He eyed it, then her. His eyes narrowed. A glint of mischief flashed an instant before the lettuce sailed back toward her.

Sarah threw up a hand to catch the flying food. It grazed the edge of her hand and splattered against the ground.

Phillip ate another bite. Then another. He ate with slow, methodical bites, seemingly nonplussed by her attempt to start a food fight.

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