Housekeepers Say I Do!: Maid for the Millionaire / Maid for the Single Dad / Maid in Montana. SUSAN MEIER
he said but the tape angled inward and by the time she reached the bottom the edge was still bare.
“Here.” Covering her hand with his, he showed her how to direct the roll as she moved it downward, so that the side of the woodwork was entirely covered by the tape.
Liz barely noticed. With his chest brushing her back and his arm sliding along her arm, old feelings burst inside her. The scent of him drifted to her and she squeezed her eyes shut. She had never met a man who caused such a riot inside her. She longed to turn around and snuggle into him, wrap her arms around him, simply enjoy the feeling of his big body against hers.
She stiffened. She had to get beyond this! If he could treat her like a coworker, she could treat him like a friend.
As if unfazed, he pulled away and walked to the paint. He poured some of the gray into one of the trays and white into the second one.
“Okay. I’m ceilings. You’re walls. But first I’m going to do the edge where the wall meets the ceiling.” He nodded at the tray of gray paint. “You take that and a roller and go nuts on the walls. Just stay away from the edges.”
“With pleasure.” She managed to make her voice sound light and friendly, but inside she was a mess. Especially since he seemed so cavalier. All this time she’d believed his attraction to her fueled her attraction to him. Now, she wasn’t so sure. Oh, she still believed he was attracted to her. His attraction simply didn’t control him.
And by God she wasn’t going to let hers control her, either!
For the next ten minutes they were quiet. Cain took a brush and painted an incredibly straight, incredibly neat six-inch swatch at the top of the wall, ensuring that Liz wouldn’t even accidentally get any gray paint on the ceiling.
Deciding she needed to bring them back to a neutral place or the silence would make her nuts by the end of the day she said, “How do you do that so fast, yet so well?”
“Lots and lots of practice,” he said, preoccupied with pouring more white paint into his tray. “Don’t forget I did this kind of work four summers in a row. That was how I knew I wanted to run a construction company. I learned to do just about everything and I actually knew the work involved when I read plans or specs.”
“Makes sense.” She rolled gray paint onto the far wall. She’d heard that story before, but now that she was a business owner she understood it and could respond to it.
“In a way, I got into cleaning for the same reason. Once I realized what would be required of my employees, it was easy to know who to choose for what jobs and also what to charge.”
“And you did great.”
His praise brought a lump to her throat. In the three years they were married he’d never praised her beyond her looks. He loved how she looked, how she smelled, how soft she was. But he’d never noticed her beyond that.
She cleared her throat. “Thanks.”
Occupied with painting the ceiling, Cain quietly said, “You know this is going to be more than a one-day job.”
“So you’ve said.”
He winced. “More than a two-week job.”
She stopped. “Really?”
“Because we can only work weekends, I’m thinking we’re in this for a month. And we’re kind of going to be stuck together.”
“Are you bailing?”
“No!” His answer was sharp. He stopped painting and faced her. “No. But I have to warn you that I’m a little confused about how to treat you.”
Relief stuttered through her. She didn’t want him to seduce her, but she certainly didn’t want to be the only one fighting an attraction. “I thought we were trying to behave like friends.”
“I’m not sure how to do that.”
“Most of the day you’ve been treating me like a coworker. Why don’t you go back to that? Forget I’m your ex-wife.”
He glanced over at her and all the air evaporated from Liz’s lungs. The look he gave her was long and slow, as if asking how he could forget that they’d been married, been intimate.
Maybe that was the crux of their problem? Every time she looked at him something inside her stirred to life. She’d lived for three years without thinking about sex, but put him in the room with her and she needed to fan herself. Worse, through nearly three years of a bad marriage, they’d already proven they could be angry with each other, all wrong for each other and still pleasure each other beyond belief.
It was going to be difficult to pretend none of that mattered.
But they had to try.
She cleared her throat. “I could use a glass of water. Would you like one?”
“Please.”
In the kitchen, she took two bottles of water from the refrigerator. She pressed the cool container against her cheek. Late March in southern Florida could be hot, but being in the same room with Cain was turning out to be even hotter.
Still, A Friend Indeed needed his help. Amanda deserved a pretty home for herself and her kids. Liz was also a strong, determined businesswoman who had handled some fairly tough trials through the three years of running her company. One little attraction wasn’t going to ruin her.
Feeling better, she walked back to the living room, but stopped dead in the doorway. Reaching up to paint the ceiling, with his back to her, Cain stretched his T-shirt taut against his muscles. His jeans snugly outlined his behind. She swallowed. Memories of them in the shower and tangled in their sheets flashed through her brain.
She pressed the water bottle to her cheek again, pushing the pointless memories aside, and strode up behind him.
“Here.”
He turned abruptly and a few drops of paint rained on her nose.
“Oops! Sorry. You kind of surprised me.”
“It’s okay.”
He yanked a work hanky from his back pocket. “Let me get that.”
Enclosing her chin in his big hand to hold her head still, he rubbed the cloth against her nose. Memories returned full force. Times he’d kissed her. Laughing on the beach before running into the house for mind-blowing sex. Falling asleep spooned together after.
He blinked. His hand stilled. Everything she was feeling was reflected in his dark eyes.
The world stopped for Liz. Holding his gaze, knowing exactly what he was remembering, feeling the thrum of her own heart as a result of the memories that poured through her brain, Liz couldn’t move, couldn’t breathe.
For ten seconds she was absolutely positive he was going to kiss her. The urge to stand on her tiptoes and accept a kiss was so strong she had to fight it with everything in her. But in the end, he backed away, his hand falling to his side.
Turning to the wall again, he said, “Another twenty minutes and I’ll have the ceiling done. If you want to go put blue tape around the windows in the dining room we could probably get that room done today, too.”
She stepped back. “Okay.” She took another step backward toward the door. “Don’t forget your water.”
He didn’t look up. “I won’t.”
Relief rattled through her. He’d just had a golden opportunity to kiss her, yet he’d stepped away.
She definitely wasn’t the only one who wanted them to be friends, not lovers, or the only one who’d changed.
When Liz was gone, Cain lowered himself to the floor. Leaning against the old stone fireplace, he rubbed his hand down his face.
He could have kissed her. Not out of habit. Not out of instinct driven by happy memories. But because he wanted