Page 11 of Against All Odds (Ember Falls #3)

seven

Violet

I ’m sitting on my lumpy bed, staring around the room, trying to decide which paint swatch I like better.

I’m debating between a cooler blue or a creamy beige with warmer undertones.

My grandmother had a very deep love for yellow, and while I understand it’s supposed to be a happy color, it just makes the house feel dirty.

It’s time for a refresh.

I purse my lips, tilting my head, and squint.

I think beige is the better choice. The wood accents in the house are warm, and I worry the blue will be too stark.

Yes, beige it is. Thankfully I bought a can of each, so I’ll use the blue in the bathroom and it won’t go to waste.

I hear Everett’s voice outside: “Brutus! Get back here, you dum-dum!”

It’s been a week since our dinner and the “almost kiss.” I haven’t been able to stop thinking about it and wondering what it would’ve felt like.

Would it be like coming home?

Would it feel awkward?

Would the feelings I thought I’d buried rise again?

I know that last one is true, because they already have.

I push the curtain back and see him walking toward the house. Without hesitating another second, I rush down the stairs, taking them two at a time, not wanting to waste the opportunity to see him.

I push out the back door, and a huge bulldog is sitting on my step. Since I’m rushing, I don’t have enough time to stop, so to avoid kicking him, I try to jump, but I misjudge and I’m going to hit the ground face-first.

Instead of slamming into the concrete, I hit a hard male chest, sending us both flying.

“Shit!” I say, and he makes an oof noise. “Are you okay? Oh my God, did you hit your head?” I ask quickly. His arms are around me, holding me to his solid chest and protecting me from the fall. I touch his face, checking for any signs of injury. “Anything hurt?”

“Just my pride,” he says, his voice strained.

I smile, staring down into his warm brown eyes. Everett looks like he hasn’t slept, there are dark circles under his eyes, and the scruff on his cheek looks maybe a day or two older than I’ve seen him wear it.

He rests his head on the ground, groaning slightly. “What hurts?” I ask again, and he tightens his arms around me just a little more. I inhale his deep woodsy scent, and it smells as though he’s been outside working, chopping wood by the campfire.

It’s incredibly sexy.

Everett sighs. “I’m fine. That damn dog is trying to kill me. Are you okay?”

“You broke my fall.”

He grunts, shifting his body, and I realize that I’m still lying on top of him as he’s on the cold, damp concrete.

I quickly scramble to get off him and help him sit up.

“I wasn’t sure I was going to get to you in time.

Thanks for that, Brutus,” he says to the dog, who looks completely unaffected by the commotion he caused.

“Wait, is that Brutus like the Ember Falls mascot?” I ask as it dawns on me.

“That’s him.”

I push up and walk over, sitting on the step, and pet him. “Hey, Brutus, you’re a very sweet boy, aren’t you?”

“No, he’s not sweet. He’s a turd. I need to bring him to the office today for his shots, and he took off. Of course I didn’t have my shoes on, so I had to get those, which is how he got over here so fast.”

I smile. “You wanted to hide from the mean vet, huh?”

Everett huffs. “Yeah, the mean vet who pays for his treats, food, and takes him to the f-o-o-t-b-a-l-l game,” he says, spelling it out.

“Well, Brutus knew where to hide out. You can come here anytime you want. As a bulldog myself, we have to stick together,” I tell the dog, who then flops to his side, offering me his belly to scratch.

“Great, another woman he’s got wrapped around his rolls.”

I laugh and shake my head. “Here, hand me the leash.”

Everett gives it over, and I snap it onto his collar and hand the loop to Everett. He tugs on the leash. “Come on, Brutus. We need to go.”

Brutus does not move. In fact, he becomes even more deadweight than before.

“Aren’t you supposed to be good with animals?” I tease, trying to contain my laughter.

“All but this one. Come on, boy. Want a treat?”

The dog lets out a snort and I giggle. Everett huffs. “I give up.”

Seems Brutus has no intention of moving either. “If his shots aren’t urgent, he can hang out here. I’m just painting.”

“Painting?”

“Yeah, the house needs a fresh coat of paint. You know, out with the old and all that.”

“The inside or outside?” Everett asks.

“Inside first. I don’t think I’m adventurous enough to tackle painting the outside of a house yet.”

He grins. “I don’t suggest it. I tried once and had to call a professional to come fix my mess.”

“I’m only doing things I feel like I can manage. Painting seems like a good place to start.”

Everett eyes me warily. “Have you ever painted before?”

“No, but it’s paint and a wall. Put it up and then it dries.”

I spent two hours in the hardware store getting all the information the two old men were willing to disperse. A lot of it contradicted the other, but the basics were there. I need to tape the ceiling, put cloths down, cover everything, then roll.

“I mean, sure, that’s the goal, but you have to make sure you tape off everything, trim, and use the right roller.”

“Oh, I’m not using rollers. The guys at the store said they leave streaks.”

His eyes widen. “Please tell me you didn’t go to Sanders.”

“That’s the only store around here that had paint,” I say, feeling a little worried.

I asked Miles where to go before I left work yesterday, and he recommended there. He did say something about asking for help, and that I should ignore it or maybe not ignore it. I wasn’t paying close attention as I was writing down the name and how to get there.

He chuckles. “Let me guess, you met Ray and Lou?”

“Yes, they were really sweet.”

“Oh, they’re sweet and love to give out shitty advice so you have to return twenty times.”

My jaw drops. “What? Those cute little old guys?”

Everett sighs and sits beside me, which causes Brutus to make a huffing noise and roll slightly away from him. “Man’s best friend my ass.”

I fight back a laugh and fail. “Okay, so back to the paint. I should use a roller?”

“Help me get Brutus back home, since he’s now sworn his allegiance to you, and I’ll bring some supplies to help.”

“You don’t have to do that,” I say quickly.

“I know, but I worry what might happen if I don’t supervise this experiment.”

I roll my eyes, but honestly I could use the help. Plus, maybe Everett and I can talk again, and I can put this attraction to him to rest.

Or find the courage to kiss him, which would be a terrible idea—so we will not be doing that.

Nope.

This will be easy, and I’ll get through it without any hiccups.

What a lie that was.

We’re four hours into this painting experiment, and I want to slap myself for agreeing to it. Not only has it been one mishap after another, but I’m realizing that the feelings I thought were gone are still very much there.

“Oh no!” I say, looking at my ponytail, which now has streaks of beige in it.

“You painted yourself?”

“Apparently.” I sigh, waiting for the biting remark about how stupid I am and that this is why we hire people.

Everett chuckles and grabs the paintbrush, slapping it on his chest. “There, now we both have paint on us.”

I rest my hand on my throat, so confused by his reaction. He didn’t berate me, which is exactly what Dylan would have done. I wait a little longer, preparing myself for what is sure to come, but he doesn’t.

“You painted yourself?” I ask.

“So did you.”

I laugh once. “By accident.”

“Really? I thought you said you wanted streaks in your hair. Oh, well. Although we should probably not waste any more since I don’t have much left in my tray, and the paint can is empty.”

This man is the complete opposite of what my ex is.

I forced myself to forget just how great Everett is. I convinced myself that we were just kids, and I had created this fictitious version of who he was.

But he’s always been this way. Silly, quick to joke, always willing to do something to help a friend or someone he loves.

Even with the mess that this entire project has been, he’s never put me down.

First, I got the wrong kind of paint. I asked for a flat paint, but Ray said I absolutely didn’t want a flat paint, that I needed something with a little shine so it didn’t look like chalk, to which Lou agreed and said everyone with flat paint regrets it.

I had to go back to the store while Everett stayed at the house, taping everything except the ceiling. He was confused when he saw me start there. I explained about the advice, and he quickly stopped me.

“Wait, we’re out?” I ask. They were absolutely certain I would only need one can to do the bedroom.

“Well, three walls are better than none,” Everett says as he crosses his arms over his chest.

“Four walls would be preferable.”

He chuckles. “I told you, they just want you to go back another time. It’s their MO.”

I huff. “I don’t even have a choice. This is my only place to sleep. I figured since I was at the store at nine this morning, I’d be done before bed.”

Everett shakes his head. “How about we take a break, go grab some lunch, and we’ll head to Sanders, where I will put my foot in their ass?”

The offer is tempting, but I don’t want to hold him up all day.

“What about Brutus?” I ask as he lies on the floor by the empty paint can. We tried to get him to go back to Everett’s, but he wasn’t having it. Instead, when I went to open my back door to show Everett the paint, he ran in and made himself comfortable.

“Brutus will be fine. He likes you better anyway.”

“That is true. Still, don’t you have plans or something to do?”

“Helping you is always more important,” he says with a smile. “Besides, you owe me another dinner or lunch or something.”

I laugh. “So feeding you is the payment for help?”

“Hey, you started it.”

“Fine, we’ll plan another dinner.”

He grins. “Perfect, let’s go get you more paint and put the room back together.”

Maybe they’ll have something at the store to deal with crushes too.