The Only Purple House in Town (Fix-It Witches, #4)(28)

“You don’t think so?”

“I’m not sure.” He saw no reason to confuse her when he wasn’t even sure what he was sensing about her. Though he’d been fairly certain that she wasn’t a run-of-the-mill human, he couldn’t be sure of anything else. So he let the matter go, choosing to dodge the questions he saw swirling in her gray eyes.

“This was a good talk,” Iris said. “We definitely know each other better now.”

Eli made an agreeable sound as he hopped out of the truck. Iris followed suit and immediately started unloading pails of paint. Together, they hauled all the supplies upstairs and got ready to work.

To Eli’s surprise, Henry Dale had already moved the furniture in each bedroom to the center of the space, so setting up went even faster. Henry Dale had also expertly taped all the windows and trim, reducing the time wasted before they got started. Sooner than Eli could have imagined, he and Iris were painting away in the first bedroom while tunes played on a Bluetooth speaker she’d suctioned to the windowpane. The thing was cute, like a little gray mushroom, and he approved of her upbeat playlist, which started with “I Will Survive,” slid into “No Scrubs,” took a sidestep to “The Best,” and grooved into “Hey Ya.”

“Nothing modern in the painting rotation?” he asked.

They were working on opposite walls so they didn’t get in each other’s way. He was doing the high parts and she the low ones, and then they planned to swap. If they did it quickly enough, it should work out beautifully.

“I could dig some up, but these are easy. Old favorites that I heard when I was little in old movies or in a fan video somebody made.”

“I love watching dance videos,” he said.

“You too? I swear, the best ones are filmed in parking lots with everybody in sweats and then just bringing it.”

“Let’s swap links. I’ll send you some of my favorites.” Again, he was struck again by how easy this was. Effortless, like lolling in a warm bath.

“That would be amazing,” Iris said. “Okay, so if dance videos are a yes, what about dance movies?”

“Yes, please,” he said promptly, earning another of her dazzling smiles. “I can’t dance at all myself, so I live vicariously.”

“Have you tried taking lessons?”

He shook his head. “No, I figured there was no point.”

“But…nobody is born amazing at anything. Babies are terrible at almost everything,” Iris pointed out.

He moved the ladder and kept painting as he considered her comment. “That’s a good point. I guess I tend to live in my comfort zone.”

“Hmm. I saw a flyer on the way out of the hardware store on their community bulletin board. We should totally take ballroom dancing lessons together.”

Eli almost dropped his roller. “What?”

This had to be a dream. She didn’t really ask me to do that with her, did she? Because it felt like a fantasy he wouldn’t even have been able to dream up on his own.

“Sure. If we go together, we get a discount! And if we use the code from the flyer, it’s even cheaper.” When she named the price, it did sound like a deal, but that wasn’t the point.

No, the point was he’d be dancing with Iris. For six weeks. Up close and personal.

Eli didn’t even need to think about it. “Absolutely, sign us up.”





CHAPTER EIGHT





Iris did the math.

And she hated doing math, but this was simple enough. If they went in as a couple, it would cost about the same as a weekly latte to take the lessons. It wasn’t like she had cash to burn, but it sounded so fun. She could put on low heels and one of her swirly romantic dresses that she never got to wear. Dancing with Eli would be frosting on the cake.

“I will. Later, though. Once we stop for the day.”

With his help, the work was going much faster than it had in the main bedroom. Within a couple of hours, the first bedroom was covered completely and Iris cracked the window, though this type of paint was supposed to be low odor. Low didn’t mean none.

As she took care of that, Eli transferred their supplies to the next room.

She was a bit hungry, but not enough to stop working. Since she knew herself, if she relaxed and filled her belly, she wouldn’t want to get back to work. Inertia was seductive, and she’d end up watching something in her room, reading, or sketching, and the walls wouldn’t get painted. If Eli was willing to help out, she should throw herself into the task as well, even if she ended up exhausted and sore.

I can’t believe he can turn into a hawk.

That was just cool as hell. She’d never told anyone about her family either, but something about Eli made her want to trust him. It gave her hope that they could become real friends, not just housemates. It would be nice to have someone who stuck around too. Who didn’t find Iris inadequate or exhausting or both.

Iris turned the music on again and lost herself in the peaceful repetition of rolling paint on the scuffed walls. It felt good, as if they were bringing the place back to life. Hours later, she stretched and slid her roller across the last untouched spot.

“Done,” she said.

“For today.”

She aimed a playful scowl at Eli. “You couldn’t just let me have that?”