I had no answer to that. “Fair enough. Do you mind if I cme with you? If I can touch up the skirting in the living room tonight, I can start the walls in the hallway in the morning.”
A beat of silence passed between us. Then Cole nodded. “Works for me.”
We left the house and strolled across the yard. Horses called out. I went to each of them in turn and shut their doors while Cole waited, his face hidden by shadows. Tauna was last. She was my favourite old girl—she’d been here as long as me. Her companion, Carric, had died a few months back, so I always made sure to make her feel special.
I fed her a few sneaky peppermints and closed her door.
Cole was leaning against the tack shed. “I didn’t know you worked with the horses too. Until this afternoon, I thought you were the maintenance man.”
“I am. But I was a stableboyfirst, so I guess I always will be.”
“Why do you sayboylike that?”
“Why not?”
“Because it sounds like an insult, which makes no sense as you’re clearly most at home with the horses.”
“How can you tell?”
“You didn’t smile like that when you were painting my kitchen.”
“Maybe the horses hold a better conversation.”
Cole’s eyes blazed for a split second before he schooled his expression. “I’ll take that. I’ve never been known for my people skills.”
“I don’t believe you.”
“Why?”
“Because you’re a teacher. You wouldn’t be able to do that if you had no people skills. Trust me, I’ve seen Joe try.”
A wry smile played on Cole’s lips, but his shrug was noncommittal. “I can do it when I need to.”
I still didn’t believe him. He was quiet, that much I couldn’t deny, but he wore it like a second skin. Not his real one.
We continued our slow amble across the farm. It was a warm night. Dry too, which made me happy. I could handle being cold all day long, but soggy clothes did my head in. So did long silences. Not with Cole, though. His quiet company was stimulating enough without him talking my ear off.
At the cottage, he let us inside and disappeared upstairs while I slapped a final coat of satinwood on the skirting boards and architrave. I wondered if he’d gone to bed, but then the tingling was back, accompanied by his soft tread on the stairs.
“Are you nearly done?”
“Ten minutes. Then I’ll be out of your hair.”
“That’s not what I meant.”
I chanced a glance over my shoulder. Regretted it. He was fucking shirtless and his torso was even more perfect than it had been in my dirty daydreams. “What did you mean then?”
“I meant in general. I figured it would take you ages, but you’ve done loads in the last few days.”
I didn’t have the heart to confess that being trapped in the tiny cottage with him day after day was motivation enough to work like a dog to get finished. My obsession with him was bordering on addictive, and I liked what little I knew of him, but I didn’t enjoy fighting a constant battle not to make an arse of myself. He was right: I preferred the horses. “I might get done tomorrow if I smash it out in the morning. Give you some time to yourself before Ella comes.”
His expression flickered, as though me speaking his daughter’s name aloud surprised him. “That’s why I was asking, actually. She’s supposed to come on Saturday, but I was hoping she could come the night before. Do you think we can get the fumes aired out before then?”
Paint cans were stacked up within kicking distance. I nudged one closer to Cole with my foot. “Even if I wasn’t done, it would be okay. I swapped the paints for eco-friendly when you said she was coming this weekend. They only need a few hours to air out.”
Cole picked up the tin and scrutinised the label. I went back to my painting and raced for the finish. He left the room. I heard him in the kitchen and my overactive brain imagined I could hear him breathing. Of course, I couldn’t. Cole moved like a ghost and I jumped a fucking mile when he dropped down on the floor beside me.
He handed me a beer. “I’m assuming you’re not as young as you look and you’re old enough to drink?”