With Crayons and Love (Romantic Suspense) [COMPLETED]

Chapter 8 - Beautiful

Now I had a justifiable reason to go to one of my favorite places in the world; the art supply store. I was beaming when I opened the front door, and Stella was humming happily at having escaped confinement.

My ease of mind didn't last too long.

Grant was crouched on the floor, the muscles on his forearm and bicep bulging as he loosened the screw of his door knob. The waves of his hair were slightly mussed, or even tousled, but they were definitely inviting. My fingers ached to feel the mass, to comb through the waves of silk. How a man could have such hair was beyond me.

He caught me looking at him, and gave me a charming smile.

"Mornin'. You ladies are up early," he observed, extracting the screw and setting the loose door knob and screw driver on the floor beside him. It seemed his Southern boy drawl was thicker in the morning. He stood, and wiped his hands over his worn-out shorts.

"Good morning!" Stella chirped, and continued humming. I smiled at her, because she was a tiny beacon of optimism wherever I went.

"Good morning," I said, "you're dismantling your door." I thought it was only reasonable that I inquire, considering that I didn't see people wrestle with their doors very often.

"You don't like your door?" Stella asked, giving me a look of confused surprise.

"It seems not, Stell. What a weirdo," I whispered to her.

He laughed in front of us, and the sound was so sexy that I had to look at him. He grinned. "I do like doors, Stella. I just don't like this particular door knob. It's a bit weak." He walked over to mine and gave it a slight shake. "Maybe you should replace yours, too. These door knobs are centuries old and won't hold up much."

He was beside me, looking down at my eyes as he spoke. He smelled clean, of a masculine cologne and fresh soap. Then there was the warmth that seemed to travel from his body-

"Do- Do you think that I need the reinforcement?" I asked, my sudden wariness taking over the biting nip of his effect.

His eyes softened, and he gave his head a slight shake. "I don't think there's anything for you to be worried about, but precaution never did anyone any harm."

I nodded. "Can you help me if I get a new doorknob later on? Just if-"

"Of course."

"Okay, well. Thank you. We're going now," I gave him a fleeting smile and turned away with Stella. I could still feel his eyes over us, over me, and I was at a war with myself. Did I want to stay, and feel the almost pleasant headiness of his stare, or run away from it?

Running away seemed the most reasonable thing to do.

"Tessa," he called, in that scary, smooth Southern way of his. I turned around impatiently to find him leaning against his door, the tool in his hand as he resolved to continue his interrupted work.

"Yeah?"

"Why are you rushing?"

I scoffed, and glared at him. Stella cocked her head to the side in wonder at my aggravation. "I'm in an obvious hurry," I answered, unwilling to extend to him the manners of propriety, not when his eyes wore the smugness of a prince.

He looked at me, his face suddenly swept of the earlier emotion, and I could almost swear that his gaze was somber. He seemed to be debating over something as his blue eyes settled over my own.

"You're beautiful, you know that?" And he meant it, he did. I breathed in, a pleasant heat settling in my chest and throughout my skin.

I had to say something, or ignore him like a child. God, my face, what color was my face?