Every Night (Brush of Love 1)

I turned toward him with a wide smile crossing my face. I couldn’t hide my shock. I had no idea what I was getting into with him suggesting ideas on how to do the outside of my gallery, but this was nothing like I expected. It was well thought out and tied into the premise that was building the foundation of this gallery. He had sat down and taken time to run through this. He’d probably drawn it out somewhere to pour it out onto a sheet of paper.

I wondered if he would like to come to a class if only to explore this side of him that was screaming to be let out.

“So, you want us to go for it?” he asked.

“Definitely. I love everything about that image you just painted. Make the door the same pale yellow as the yellow you use on the sign. The bird’s-eye maple swirl pattern will still bleed through a pale color like that, and I really love the design of that type of wood.”

“Whatever you want,” he said. “Now, there’s something I need to talk with you about.”

“What’s up?” I asked.

“We hauled ass these first two weeks to get a lot of stuff done because now the work won’t be every day. We’ll still get it done by the timeframe designated in the contract you signed, but I do have other commitments that require my attention as well. The downtime will allow me to tend to those projects while I order and gather the things we’ll need to get the outside of this place going.”

“That’s fine. I totally understand that,” I said.

“There might be a guy or two that dips in to put some finishing touches on things, but none of the homeless employees will be on-site without someone else from the company here.”

“Like I said, I trust you with this project.”

“We should have all the flooring work done by the end of the week, and then, that’s where we’ll pause. All the electrical wiring is covered up, and the plumbing is back in good working condition. We don’t want to leave anything exposed to any of the elements, so once the flooring has been ripped up and the new one’s been put down, that’ll be our stopping point before the intermittent work begins.”

“Perfect,” I wanted to do something to show my gratitude. Something to show him how absolutely thankful I was that he came knocking on my rickety door that day. I wanted to get him something or treat him to something, maybe paint him someone for free or offer for him to come to the classes once the art gallery’s set up.

But my mouth ran away from me before I could catch myself.

“Would you like to come to dinner with me?” I asked.

“What?”

“You’ve done so much for me so far, taking the pay cut and allowing me to pay you in paintings. You haven’t once offered to cut corners to put more money back into your pocket, and I know you’ve been coming by earlier in the mornings to look things over. You’ve put a great deal of work and emotion into this project, and not once have you ever complained about it.”

“Not to you, at least,” he said, winking.

“All this to say the least I can do is treat you to a dinner.”

/>

I could tell he was a bit surprised. That playful Bryan I’d just had in front of me while we were talking about colors and letters and signs disappeared rather quickly, and in his place was the reserved, hesitant Bryan I’d gotten to know very well. This Bryan didn’t allow any distractions to derail him from his final goal. This Bryan kept people at arm’s length because of the hurt he’d suffered throughout his life.

But still, there was a twinge of curiosity behind his gaze.

I knew I’d invited him out because of my attraction to him, but I also wanted to show him how grateful I was to him. He was facilitating my dream and allowing this to be possible. Had he not come knocking on my door with his morals and his fantastical ideas, I probably would’ve never seen this completely to fruition. I would’ve allowed the money problems to bury me alive.

It was because of his generosity that I was now able to see this through, and I wanted him to know that.

“I guess that wouldn’t hurt,” he said, much to my utter shock. “I’ve got time in about a week or so. How does that sound?”

“Sounds fine to me. I’m free anytime, really.”

“Until we get this gallery of yours up and running. Then, you won’t have much time at all.”

“And it’ll be absolutely wonderful,” I said, smiling.

“Well, I better get back to work. It’s time for some of my guys to take their lunch break anyway.”

“Yeah, yeah. Go on. Get in there, tiger.”

I physically cringed at how badly that sounded, but the only thing Bryan did was laugh. The sound was so refreshing, like the ocean water pumping life back into a restless, storm-blown town. He looked back at me one last time, his eyes not attempting to hide the fact that he was looking me up and down. I felt my cheeks blazing with fire as he walked back inside ready to dig into some hands-on work while I stayed outside simply staring at the tattered outside of the building.