Life Reconstructed: Chapter Nineteen

Then he dropped her hand. In response, she felt her own arm fall limply back down at her side. She stared vaguely ahead, at the blue tape. It offered little comfort to her outrageous heartbeat. Her throat shook with the force of her feelings. She wasn’t sure what was happening. She didn’t feel prepared. Hell, she didn’t feel like she was even in his league. Stealing a sideways glance at his profile, however, forced her out of her reverie.

Matt looked much the same as usual. Not an ounce of expression marred his face. “That’s pretty much it.” Shrugging at her lack of response, he moved back to the coffee. “If you want to get started on that, I’ll get to work on the doors.”

She nodded. Reaching blindly for the tape once more, she ripped off a piece. Leaning forward, she forced her fingers to press it down against the cool tiling. She was moderately pleased with the straight line. “Do you, uh, do you think we’ll get it all done today?”

There, that seemed like a safe topic of conversation. Taking a deep breath, and then another, she repeated her motion, going back over the tape. She hardly felt in control of her body.

When he didn’t immediately respond, she glanced back over her shoulder. Matt was leaning up against the counter, and at her glance, he lifted his eyes from the table, where he’d been mentally counting the doors.

At her expression, he shrugged. “I don’t know. Maybe.”

She let out a puff of breath. It felt a little cathartic. “Great insight.”

“That’s what they pay me the big bucks for.”

“Yeah, yeah.”

“Keep your lines straight.”

Snapping back around, Cat felt her face contract. Dammit. Did the man have to, just have to point out—

With a vicious snap, she yanked the tape back. Then, leaning closer to the wall again, her hipbones jutting into the countertop, she carefully laid the tape back down. Then, heeding his advice, she felt her fingers pressed down on the tape—only a remnant of her earlier twitchiness still remained. Sliding down the line, she couldn’t’ help but wonder at her current position, her butt just slightly raised in the air, her back arched as she bent over the counter…

But when she flicked a quick glance over her shoulder, she was forced to acknowledge that Matt wasn’t even looking her way.

Well, of course he wasn’t.

“God, this is going to take forever.”

“Hmmm.”

Edging along the line, she found something of a rhythm after a way, her fingers moving by memory as she stuck and lined the tape. She had just moved past her stove when she heard Matt set his coffee cup down on the counter.

“Okay,” he said, bringing his hands together in thought. “I’m going to lay the cabinet doors out on the floor,” he said, his voice interrupting her thoughts. Turning at the unexpected sound, Cat had just enough time to see his gaze flicker upward just a bit too quickly to her face.

Had he been looking, after all?

Not even bothering to hide her grin, Cat crossed her arms over her chest, one hip leaning against the countertop as she waited for him to finish.

Indicating one of the cabinet doors, Matt motioned to the flooring. “I’m not sure we’ll have enough room to lay them all out. But…”

Cat nodded. “Okay.”

Rubbing his chin in concentration, Matt continued: “Watch your step.”

“Got it.”

Which was all good and fine in theory but when, fifteen minutes later, Cat could literally feel Matt crouched down on the floor behind her, her legs brushing up against his back as she reached up to get the bottom half of an upper cupboard door, things became…trickier.

He hadn’t been kidding when he said there wasn’t a lot of room.

“Oops. Sorry,” she called out over her shoulder when she stumbled on his foot.

“You’re fine.”

Cat laughed, letting her sore arms drop down to her sides as she glanced over at him. “I always knew my kitchen was small but this…”

Leaning back, he looked up at her. “I think a realtor would describe this as cozy.”

“It’s definitely that.” Biting her lip, Cat searched for something else to say. But they’d more-or-less exhausted that particular topic—which hardly scintillating in the first place.

With a sigh, she turned back to taping. Then she stopped, her eyebrows crinkling in frustration. It was too quiet in the kitchen. It was too…brisk. This wasn’t how she’d planned this morning would go.

“Hold still.”

“Huh?” But no sooner had Cat asked this then she felt Matt stand up. Half-turning in question, she realized too late what he’d meant. Standing directly in front of her, his left hand reaching for the lip of the counter to one side of her, he made to edge around her. With the doors scattered at their feet, there wasn’t really enough room.

Blinking up at his brown eyes, Cat sucked in her breath as his right leg swung around her. He was brushed up against her half-turned body now—not a spare breath of space between them.

“I need to grab more paint,” he said, his words so close they tangled with the air pushing past her slightly parted lips.

Cat could smell the hints of sandlewood and spice in the cologne that clung to his shirt.  Or maybe that was just the residue scent of a woodsman.

Her mouth dropping forward, Cat nodded idiotically. Then, unsure what else to do, she twisted back to face the countertop, her movements stilted but rushed. Bringing her body up as tight as she could, she waited as she felt him shift behind her, his toolbelt just grazing past her lower back. Both of his hands were cocooned around her now as he slowly stepped over the doors on the floor.

Swallowing, Cat felt frozen in place, her body reacting to the sudden feel and weight of him.

Then he was gone, his body drifting past hers to the kitchen table.

Still staring absently at the wall, she tried to steady her breathing. It wouldn’t do to hyperventilate now. Then again, wasn’t this perhaps how she had hoped the morning would conduct itself?

A little breathlessly.

“Here,” at the sound of Matt’s voice, a huskier quality than she felt sure was in it moments before, Cat shifted in his direction.

He was holding out the paint can. “Will you put this down for me?”

“Sure.” Hating the quiver in her voice, Cat reached for the can. Her fingers trembled slightly as she took it from him, her hand brushing against his as she lifted the thin metal handle. With careful movements, she placed it down where he’d been kneeling earlier.

When she straightened back up it was to see that Matt was tucking a couple new brushes in his back pocket. Smiling gamely, she made an empty gesture. “Maybe I should just…?” moving forward, closer to where he was standing by the opening of the kitchen doorway, Cat only hoped her intention to get out of his way was clear.

Side-stepping around her table, laden with sandpaper and paintbrushes and drop cloths, she waved him forward. “There, that should make it easier.” Toying with her ponytail, she laughed. “You know, I used to think about getting a dog. Not a big dog,” she said, her hand reaching out to run nervously against the bristles of a paintbrush. Her eyes followed the motion relentlessly. “You know, just to have a little company—someone who’d force me to get in a little exercise.” Cat laughed weakly. “But now maybe I’m glad I didn’t. I doubt there’d even been enough room in here for that—”

“Cat.”

Stopping, she took a breath. “Yeah?”

“Thanks. You can take your spot back.”

At the words, Cat’s eyes snapped upward. Sure enough, during her little monologue of nonsense, Matt had resumed his position on the floor. And the walkway was open once more. Biting down on the feeling in the pit of her stomach warning her that, yet again, she’d made a fool of herself, Cat did as requested.

Within the hour, she was finished taping.

Wiping her hands together, she looked down at Matt. He’d finished most of the doors by now.

Cat pointed toward the remaining doors with the toe of her shoe. “Should I help you with that?”

Glancing up at her, almost as though he’d forgotten she was there, Matt shook his head slowly. “Ah, no. No, let’s get you started on the framing.”

She nodded. Actually, that sounded better. The farther away she was from him, the safer she felt. Not that her kitchen ever allowed for much space.

“Gotcha.”

Gaining his feet, Matt motioned her to the table. “Here. I would start with this brush.”

Cat eyed it. It was small. She sighed. “Okay.”

As though he’d read her thoughts, Matt grinned. “It won’t take as long as this might imply.”

Smiling in return, Cat picked up the brush. “I’m sorry. Here you are, being my white knight—”

He made a sound in his throat. “Not quite.”

Cat rolled her eyes. “God, do you always have to make it so difficult.”

He looked at her.

“I’m just trying to compliment you.”

“With dramatics?”

“Right. Of course.” Spinning tightly on her heel, she shook her head. “My apologies. But then, that appears to be my style, doesn’t it?” Toeing the step stool closer, she climbed up the first couple rings. Seemingly unperturbed by her snapping comeback, Matt resumed his position on the floor, his brush strokes confident as he started on a new door.

This went on for some minutes, the only sound the wet swish of paint carefully applied to wood. Cat’s nerves were to the stretching point, her stomach churning as the quiet stretched on and on….“So, uh, how’s it going down there?” Cat asked, peering over her shoulder to watch Matt’s back bending over a door.

He didn’t even bother to raise his head. “Good.”

“Yeah. I’m almost finished with this wall,” Cat returned inanely. She nodded at the wall for confirmation.

“Good.”

Cat dipped her brush in the small cup she’d poured the paint into. “You know, you’re in a pretty good position here.”

That got his attention, at least. “Excuse me?”

“Well, after this,” she mused, letting her brush stroke down the frame in a smooth line. “I’ll owe you like forever.”

“I think did beforehand.”

Smiling cheekily over her shoulder, she conceded him that point. “True. So, if you need anything painted at the store…?”

“I’ll keep it in mind.” And that, apparently, would be that. Without loss of time, Matt returned to his door.

Biting her lip, Cat pressed on. “Or, you know, whatever.”

“Hmm.”

“Or I could just assure Birdie that I’d have been lost without you. That’d probably save you some headache,” she continued.

Matt sighed. “There you go again, making me out to be some saint.”

“Well, really, we hardly know each other and here you are,” she said, spreading her arms out wide, indicating her mess of a kitchen. A glob of paint dropped off the end of the brush in her hands, landing with a smack on the drop cloth at her feet. “Wasting a Saturday to paint. I mean…”

Glancing up at her, he carefully set his paintbrush down. “I don’t mind painting.”

“No?”

“It’s easy. I can just, think.”

If that wasn’t a subtle snub, Cat wasn’t sure what was.