Chapter Two

      Lily waited for the man to fill in the blank.

      He didn’t look dangerous, but a girl couldn’t be too careful nowadays. Dark hair. Eyes the velvet-blue of an evening sky. The chiseled features would have been improved by a smile, but he was attractive in a brooding, Mr. Darcy kind of way.

      “Brendan Kane,” he finally said.

      Now it looked as if he was waiting for something. Lily stitched the pieces of their brief conversation together in her mind, trying to make sense of them. He’d apologized for being late. And the flash of disbelief in his eyes when she’d introduced herself meant that he’d been expecting someone else—a Domita Somebody or Another.

      “Did you have an appointment with one of Sonia Mason’s employees?” she ventured. “Because I think everyone left for the day.”

      “Not all of them.” A wry smile kicked up the corner of his lips, and Lily felt a corresponding kick in the general vicinity of her heart. Flustered, she lowered her gaze—and spotted the logo embroidered on the pocket of his polo shirt.

      Castle Falls Outfitters.

      Brendan Kane was one of the employees.

      “I…” Feel like an idiot? “I’m sorry. I didn’t realize you worked for Sonia Mason, too. She hired me a few weeks ago to do some painting while she’s on vacation, but I’m afraid I don’t know much about her business.” Lily forced a smile. “I should have asked more questions.”

      “You aren’t the only one,” he muttered.

      She wasn’t sure how to decipher the cryptic statement, but something in Brendan Kane’s tone told her that he wasn’t pleased by the situation. Was he afraid she was going to get in his way?

      Or was he the type of person who thought her type of work was unnecessary? Frivolous?

      Anyone can splash paint on a wall, Lily. You’re wasting your talents…and your time. If you take a leave of absence now, someone else is going to take your place. Everything you’ve worked to accomplish will be gone.

      Her father’s parting words had left their mark. In Nolan Michaels’s world, the number of hours a person worked, combined with the number of digits that made up their annual salary, equaled success. The fact that Lily was being considered for a promotion had made it even more difficult for him to understand.

      It didn’t even seem to matter that Lily’s change in careers, in order to help out a friend in need, was temporary.

      If only her father had seen the expression on Shelby’s face when Lily had offered to take over her custom painting until she regained her strength after being diagnosed with Lyme disease.

      Hope.

      Lily folded the memory into a smile and tucked it away for safekeeping.

      She’d made the right decision.

      “If you’ll excuse me. I have a few things to unload before it gets dark.” Lily skirted the six-foot-two, blue-eyed obstacle on the sidewalk. She could only hope her and Brendan Kane’s paths wouldn’t cross very often in the next ten days….

      “I’ll give you a hand.”

      Lily dragged in a breath, ready to decline, but the masculine—and all-too-appealing—scent of fresh air and freshly laundered cotton filled her lungs. And did strange things to her vocal cords. All she could manage was a…squeak.

      A squeak Brendan must have taken as consent, because he reached into the trunk of the car and pulled out a box filled with drop cloths.

      “You can set the bins in the hallway.” Lily found her voice as she wrestled a folding ladder from the backseat. “I’ll organize everything later.”

      “What’s this?”

      Peeking over the top of the door, she saw him holding her pink paisley Vera Bradley weekender, a birthday gift from Shelby, at arm’s length. The way a person might hold a plastic bag bound for the curb. Or a package that had suddenly started to tick.

      Lily hesitated, wondering if this was a trick question. “My suitcase?”

      “Suitcase.” He frowned, clearly suspicious.

      They do come in more than colors than black and navy blue, Lily thought. Then promptly asked God’s forgiveness for the uncharitable thought.

      “Don’t worry about that one.” Setting the ladder down, she held out her hand, ready to rescue the bag from his grip. “I’ll take it upstairs.”

      “Upstairs?” The frown deepened.

      And he was still attractive.

      Life, Lily thought, just wasn’t fair.

      “You’re not staying here.” It came out sounding more like a statement than a question.

      “Sonia offered the use of her guest room while she’s on vacation,” Lily explained. “Paint the Town is based in Traverse City, so it would have been too far to drive back and forth.”

      “I’m surprised you accepted a job way up here in the middle of nowhere.” A muscle working in that chiseled jaw tightened at the words.

      Lily didn’t know why it mattered where she stayed. But if Brendan Kane was Sonia’s manager, as she suspected, he probably resented the fact that his employer hadn’t kept him in the loop.

      “I didn’t have the luxury of turning down the job.” She pressed out a smile. “And Sonia assured me that I have all the qualifications she’s been looking for.”

      The blue eyes closed briefly, and Lily could only guess what the man was thinking of. Tossing her offensive floral luggage in the river? Ordering her off the property?

      She decided not to wait around to find out.

      “I appreciate your help, but I can handle the rest of it.” Plucking the suitcase from his hand, Lily headed to the front door. This time—thank You, God—he didn’t follow.

      She practically sprinted up the stairs to the second floor and took refuge in the spare room at the end of the hall. Number four on the makeover list. Sonia had requested something lighter than the existing hunter-green walls and burgundy trim, which gave the room a distinctly masculine feel.

      Lily unpacked her suitcase and matched each item of clothing to a plastic hanger in the closet. She read through Sonia’s list and matched paint chips to the appropriate rooms.

      In other words, she was stalling.

      After an hour or so, when she figured the coast was clear, Lily padded downstairs.

      Anticipation began to wash away the memory of her encounter with Brendan the Brusque. She sorted through the cans of paint until she came to the words chai tea scribbled on the lid. Rich vanilla, with a subtle vein of gold, would provide the perfect frame for the window overlooking the river.

      Lily