Scars Like Ours | Red View Romance #2

🐈 Thirty Three

Moving her furniture, laying out a tarp, and dressing in an old t-shirt and overalls for their second date felt a little strange, but when Annie opened the door for Cliff he was wearing worn-out jeans and a dark green flannel that had no doubt seen better days, an outfit that matched well with her own. In one hand he had a small toolbox. Everything about the ensemble made her want to throw herself at him, for reasons she couldn't explain.

"Hi," she greeted, heart jumping as he leaned down to kiss her. Only a day apart, and it felt like she'd been waiting all her life to feel his mouth on hers again.

"Hi," he murmured against her lips, placing another short peck before pulling away.

His gaze roamed the room behind her as she stepped back to let him inside. "You moved your desk already? I would have helped."

"It's not very heavy," she brushed off his apparent concern, even though it made her want to melt. Had anyone ever been concerned that she'd strain herself moving furniture? Her own family hadn't even helped her move in. "How'd the jingle writing go?"

He shrugged as she closed the door, and he strolled over to the small office area she wanted to paint. "I finished it, and they liked it. But it took all day. You're very distracting, you know."

The rush of blood to her face was instant. "Me?"

"You." The unscarred corner of his mouth quirked upwards. "I couldn't stop thinking about you. But then, that's been true since we met. How was your weekend?"

She wracked her brain for an answer as her knees weakened from the words. What did she even do that weekend? Who could remember after a statement like that?

Finally she recalled the errands and chores: catching up on work, cleaning her apartment, buying paint at the hardware store, and... getting groceries. Right. The reason she'd been so antsy the past twenty four hours. It faded in and out of her mind, taunting her one second, gone the next. When Gabby and Layla showed up at her place for dinner to interrogate her about her date with Cliff, she'd gotten so caught up in the story and the excitement that she forgot all about the mystery woman. Then night fell and she'd tossed and turned, running over the same questions that she'd tried so hard to leave behind at the store.

If he knew that a woman like that was interested in him, what would he think? If he wasn't so insecure, would he ever have shown up at her door? Did he really find her beautiful? In comparison to what?

But by the time Monday morning rolled around she was so caught up with the upcoming date that it hadn't plagued her mind until just then.

"It was good," she decided. She certainly couldn't deem it bad after everything that had happened, even with the goddess run-in. "Got a lot done, and... had a lot to look forward to."

That had him tossing a smile over his shoulder. When he turned back and his fingers reached curiously for the covered easel next to the window as he asked, "Can I peek?" her heart jumped straight to her throat.

"No--!" she blurted, rushing over to make sure he wouldn't lift the sheet. She caught his wide eyed gaze and flushed. Still, the look of shock was better than the one of freaked-out horror he would likely have if he saw what was on the hidden canvas. "Sorry. I just--it's not finished yet." That technically wasn't a lie, but it also wasn't the whole truth. Her hands clammed with guilt at the deceit.

"Sorry--I should know better," Cliff apologized with a smile that calmed her. "No artist likes to display an unfinished piece, myself included."

"I'll let you see it when it's done," she promised, even though the idea made her stomach roll. She would show him. She just wasn't sure what he would think.