As Colton sauntered away with the pie, I grabbed a few things from the makeshift tool bag I had put together this morning. I’d done a few projects around my parents’ home, but nothing of this magnitude.
The sound of a screen door slamming alerted me to Colton’s approach.
“The wind is really starting to pick up out there. That storm they’re calling for is going to be brutal.”
“Yeah, they’ve issued some hail and tornado watches,” I added as I turned to face Colton.
“What is that?” He pointed at the canvas toolbelt I was wearing as I finished tying the straps around my waist.
“A toolbelt?”
“That is not a toolbelt.” Walking over to a massive leather and suede contraption draped on a sawhorse, Colton said, “This is a toolbelt. It will actually hold tools.”
“Well, this is what I had, so it will have to do,” I said stubbornly.
It was clear that Colton didn’t want to argue. He shrugged and then went to work showing me how to use the small orbital sander and how to work on the smaller details of the moldings.
My legs and back ached after the first shelf, but I felt like I’d accomplished something. It felt good. And as I glanced over to watch Colton working on a shelf at the other end of the room, it felt even better to be working beside him.
“How many more of these do we have?” I asked. When I arrived, I’d noticed that a few had already been worked on.
“Four and then we can go test some of the stains to see what color you think will work best.”
The contractor came by not shortly after and announced that his crew was packing up all of their items in the storm’s wake and would return the next day. Colton thanked the man graciously for staying onsite as long as they had.
I’d lost track of the hour as I moved onto the next shelf.
“Hey, want to go check out the stains while there is still some good natural lighting?” Colton asked and I eagerly jumped up from my crouched position only to groan in pain. I was definitely going to be sore the next day.
“Yeah. Let me go grab my binder from the car and we can look at some pictures I found of woodwork from the same time period.”
We went in opposite directions when we exited the house, and I took a moment to look off in the distance toward the looming clouds in the sky. The storm was still a way off, but it was going to be brutal. Some fluke of nature that had dumped snow in the southern half of the western United States like Arizona and had unleashed countless tornados in her war path.
I quickly grabbed the binder filled to the brim with new goodies I had researched online before heading over.
The mud and grass sloshed underneath my feet as I forged a path around the house toward the area Colton had set up with some pieces of the molding we were going to use to test the colors of stain. I could see he had five different shades set up.
“Hey,” I said as I approached. I greedily ate up the view of Colton’s back. “So, let’s see what you’ve got?”
“Enough to keep you busy, but let’s talk about the stain.”
It took a second before Colton’s words registered and I felt my cheeks flame under his watchful eye.
“I do love when your cheeks turn that color.”
“Really?” I asked as he started prying the tops off the multiple stain colors he had chosen. “Why is that?”
Grabbing a brush, he dipped it into the first stain, the darkest of the colors as he said, “Because I imagine what color your other cheeks would turn under my palm.”
The man didn’t even raise his head as he stroked the brush back and forth on the wood, spreading the stain.
“You shouldn’t say those things,” I whispered, hating the way my husky voice betrayed me. I absolutely wanted to feel his hands on me, but I knew nothing could come of it. There was a good chance that neither Colton nor I were staying in this town. I had potential jobs, or at least the desire to live in a bigger city like Knoxville, and Colton had bigger and better things as a sports star.
“Doesn’t mean I can’t imagine it. Now, what do you think of that one?” he asked as he moved to the next color, one with a redder undertone.
“No. It’s too modern and the one you’re doing now is too red. Let me show you a picture of what I was thinking.”
Opening the binder, I came to the page I’d added that morning and moved to Colton’s side to show him.
“You see this stair wainscotting? That color is the closest I could find to the natural color we should be going for.” When Colton remained quiet, I began slowly flipping the pages, showing him the other examples that I found using the same stain color. “What do you think?”
Instead of answering, Colton placed the brush gently on the top of the can and turned to face me. “You really enjoy this, don’t you?”
“Enjoy what?”
“Bringing things to life. It’s why you enjoy event planning. Taking an idea and watching it come alive. I can see why you were so excited about buying this place.”
“Well. . .um. . .”
“Sorry, I didn’t mean anything by it. You should just know that I appreciate all the work you’ve put into this.”
“Thank you,” I whispered, safely securing the pictures back into the binder. “So, do you think you have something like that color?”
“Maybe not exact, but something close. But let’s look at all of them. You never know if inspiration will strike.”
Agreeing, I watched as he laid down the four other stain colors. Two struck me right away and I let Colton know the ones I favored. Thankfully, he agreed and we closed up the rejects.
As we cleaned up the mess, I suggested we take the stained pieces inside before we made a final decision to see how they would look in the space. Colton was hesitant since there was no electrical yet, but there was enough sun from the day where we could get an idea of what it would look like.
