Part 17 (1/2)
As their pa.s.sion built, she reached behind her, clasping one of the bedposts, as though it could keep her tethered to earth. He raised his hand, found hers and clasped it and the mahogany post as they rocketed to heaven together.
16.
”I DON'T EVEN WANT to go home,” John said. He and Julia were trying a new Thai place that had received good reviews. It was the second time this week they'd grabbed dinner. ”My wife did all the decorating. I'm living in a box with beige walls and the furniture my ex didn't want.”
”How bad is it?” Julia had to ask.
”Pretty bad.”
He'd been good to her. So the online dating thing hadn't turned up much in the way of dates; she'd found a friend. And it was nice to have a man to go to a movie with and hang out with.
”I'd be happy to come over and give you some ideas.”
”Really? Because I was totally hinting.”
She chuckled. ”I got that.”
”Would tomorrow afternoon work? You could give me some ideas and then we could go for dinner somewhere.”
”No hot dates?” she teased.
”Not hardly. You?”
”I'll be at your place at two o'clock.”
”Great.”
When she arrived at his house a little after two-thirty, she quickly realized he hadn't exaggerated. The place he'd bought was a standard bungalow with every interior wall painted the same shade of beige.
The place had definite possibilities though.
The rooms were a good size, the original oak floors had been refinished and large picture windows let in a ton of light.
The furniture, however, was pitiful. The kind of bad rec-room stuff you banish to the bas.e.m.e.nt until you have the money to upgrade. Seemed like he and his wife had never got around to upgrading.
His bedroom furniture consisted of a queen-size mattress on the floor.
After ten minutes of walking through the house, she said, ”I need a budget.'
”Already?”
”Yup. I need to know what you're prepared to spend.” She took out her computer tablet. ”There are emergency items, essentials and nice to have. We'll prioritize.”
”Let me put it to you this way. If I let you do everything you want, how much would it cost?”
She smiled. ”That's the sort of budget I like.”
When he opened his mouth to protest-probably-she said, ”Okay, okay. Here's where I want to start. First, the reason I was a teeny bit late is that I had some paint leftover from another job. And it's ideal for here. We'll do the main downstairs rooms in a color called linen. Don't worry, it's very neutral. Masculine in fact. You'll love it. I also snagged some mascarpone. That's for woodwork and trim. If you feel like a handyman project, you can do those horrible kitchen cupboards yourself. Otherwise, we send them out.” She patted his shoulder. ”So the paint's free.”
”Why do I get the feeling that nothing else is?”
She tapped on the computer tablet in her hand. ”I get a discount on furniture at several terrific places. Honestly, John, you need to get rid of this c.r.a.p. Now.”
He leaned against a beige wall and folded his arms. He had nice, muscular arms, she noticed. ”That sounds like shopping. I hate shopping.”
”You could give me your credit card and stay home.”
”I can do shopping.”
”Let's go then.”
He looked alarmed. ”What? Now?”
”There's no better time. And trust me. When you have a home that suits you and feels comfortable, you're going to enjoy being here.”
”You're the professional. Let's go.”
YOU LEARNED A LOT ABOUT a person when you attempted to remake their home as Julia knew from experience. In John's case he was easy to deal with, accepting all her suggestions and only quibbling when she tried to get him to move his big-screen TV out of the living room.
”Absolutely not,” he said. ”I watch games in here. I'm the one that does the living in the living room. What's the point of sticking me in a spare bedroom? The fireplace is out here. It's close to the kitchen. The big screen stays.”
”Fine,” she said. It was his house, after all, and his argument made sense. Once they'd chosen the furniture-well, she'd chosen, and he'd pulled out his credit card-they were ready for a break. As they headed for a local Mexican restaurant that she loved, they walked past a trendy menswear shop. She glanced in the window, then at her companion who wore his usual collection of unfortunate clothing choices.
Should she?
She glanced at him walking beside her. He had a great body, but he always camouflaged it in a series of clothing disasters. He'd been good about letting her redecorate his home. Maybe?
”John,” she said, her tone tentative.
”I don't like that look in your eye. I'm not buying three identical white vases to place on the mantel.”
”No. It's not about vases. Honestly. I was just wondering whether you'd like to check out this menswear shop.”
He narrowed his eyes at her. ”Why would I want to do that?”
She shrugged. ”No reason. I think those jeans would look really good on you.”
He wasn't fooled. ”Are you trying to stage me, too?”
She nibbled her lower lip. Truth or not? She decided, since they were friends and not lovers, that she could afford honesty.
”I don't mean to be rude, but you could look so much better. You've got good bone structure, a nice body, but your clothes aren't doing you any favors.”
”I like to be comfortable.”