Ignite (Wildwood 1)

“It would probably get out of control quick, and we can’t have that.” She made a little face and he smiled, his gaze warm and making her insides tap dance with giddiness. This felt like flirting and she so didn’t want to get her hopes up. But when it came to West, it was like she couldn’t help herself.

She needed to focus and stay on task. There was a purpose for her visit tonight and it had nothing to do with flirting. “So. Where are the paint samples?”

West frowned, like he didn’t know what she was talking about.

“You know, the reason why you asked me over here in the first place?” she added.

“Right. Yeah.” He turned and went into the kitchen, Harper following after him. A pile of various paint samples from Home Depot sat on the counter and he picked them up, handing them to her. “What’s your favorite color?”

“Well, it depends on the room.” She set the pile on the counter and flipped open the first pamphlet to find it featured nothing but varying shades of white. Frowning, she scanned the different-color swatches. Who knew there were this many types of white in the world?

“What do you mean?”

Harper looked up at him, telling herself not to fall for the adorably confused look on his face. She really hated how much she wanted to give in to her West-based urges. “Well, different rooms should be painted different colors. Just because I love sea foam green doesn’t mean I want my living room painted sea foam green, you know what I mean?”

His frown deepened. “What the hell is sea foam green?”

He was such a man. She held back the urge to roll her eyes. “A hideous color I don’t really like.”

“Then why would you suggest it?”

Sighing, she gathered up the paint samples and took them with her to the tiny kitchen table, where she sat down. “Sorry. Bad example. Come sit with me.”

He did as she asked, pulling his chair right up next to hers, which proved to be completely distracting within seconds. His arm brushed hers as he reached over to grab a sample—the nothing-but-white one—and she could smell him. Feel the warmth emanating from his skin. Hear him shift and move and breathe, for the love of God. All simple things. He wasn’t trying to drive her out of her mind with lust, but he so was.

And she was ridiculous for feeling this way.

“Well, all the rooms should probably be repainted, but I think your grandma wanted the kitchen worked on first. She mentioned she wanted new appliances, but I think she might want to wait before she makes that purchase,” he explained.

Harper propped her elbow on the table and rested her chin on her fist, listening to him. She could listen to him all night, even when he talked about boring stuff like appliances and repainting. Not that she didn’t want to help him, because she definitely did. But he was a total distraction. His deep voice, his gorgeous face, those sexy blue eyes, the way his broad chest was emphasized in that black T-shirt . . .

“So the cabinets are solid, but that oak is just so dark, it looks pretty beat up from years of use. I want to paint them white.” He stared at the array of white samples with a helpless expression. “I thought it would be simple, you know? White is . . . white.”

Hmm, she needed to step in and help him make a decision. She was good at this sort of thing. “Clearly that’s not the case.” She reached over and tapped her finger right in the dead center of about twenty white paint options. “I like this.”

West glanced up. “Why’s that?”

“I like the name. Café au Lait.” She shrugged when he turned to really look at her, his blue eyes meeting hers. “It’s not too bright, not too beige. It’s a perfect, subtle shade of warm white.”

“I like the way you think. Done.” He tore the page out of the pamphlet, then proceeded to tear the actual paint sample itself from the page. “How about the kitchen walls?”

And that became their process. She declared a color as her favorite for a particular room and West agreed, no questions asked. He’d make jokes, and she couldn’t help but laugh. He asked about people they went to school with, and she filled him in on whatever details she knew, which most of the time were a lot. He was a gracious host who kept asking her if she wanted something to drink until she finally agreed to have a bottled water. When he admitted he was hungry and she agreed, he called in a pizza order. They were waiting for it as he showed her the master bathroom, though she didn’t really need a tour of the place.

She had lived here for years, after all.

“The tile has to go,” West said as he flicked on the bathroom light. It was an old rectangular fluorescent unit that hung above the mirror, the light it cast dull and unflattering. If she had her choice, most everything in this room would go. It was all outdated and awful.

Harper stopped just behind him, her upper lip curling as she stared at the hideous brown tile that looked like it had come straight out of the seventies. “I totally agree. Shit brown isn’t what I would call a classic color.”

His gaze met hers in the bathroom mirror, his expression mildly incredulous. “Excuse me, but did Harper Hill just say the word shit?”

“Stop.” She waved a hand. She’d had a bit of a reputation when she was younger as someone who never, ever cursed. Like ever. She’d been such a good girl back in her teenage years and so proud of it too.

Now she wished she would’ve gone a little wilder. At least once, just to prove that she could.

“Seriously. You don’t say bad words, Harper. I don’t know if I’ve ever heard you say the word shit and I’ve known you a long time.” His face was serious, but she saw the way his eyes sparkled. He was totally teasing her.

“Well, it’s been years since we’ve spent any time together. I’ve changed a lot, you know,” she pointed out.