Little Miss Matchmaker by Dana Corbit

Author:Dana Corbit [Dana Corbit]
Language: nld
Format: epub
Publisher: Harlequin
Published: 2007-04-04T22:00:00+00:00

“If you’re planning to pull a Michelangelo on the W, you’re never going to make it to the E before we quit tonight.”

Dinah looked up from where she was kneeling above the weathered Welcome sign, her red-paint-covered brush poised for another stroke. Not that she’d needed to look up to know who stood behind her, even before he spoke. She’d had a sixth sense all week when it came to Alex, and again she’d sensed his nearness. That the skin on her upper arms tingled every time he was within ten feet of her offered a strong clue.

Alex grinned down at her before taking another swallow from his bottled water.

“Art critics are not welcome,” she said with a frown.

“Hey, I’m not criticizing the quality of the work, just the pace.”

“What would the Sistine Chapel look like if Michelangelo was rushed like this?” With her sleeve, she brushed at the perspiration dotting her forehead.

“I don’t know, but I don’t think we have several years to spare when the carnival is just two days away.”

Dinah stuck out her tongue and then tilted her head to the side. “You know…isn’t there an old saying, ‘If you want something done right, then do it yourself’?” She extended the brush his way.

Instead of coming up with another quip, Alex pulled a clean paintbrush from his back pocket. “I thought you’d never ask.”

Retrieving a bowl, he poured a small amount of paint from her can into it. He pointed to the E at the end of the Welcome sign. “I’ll start there, and we can meet someplace in the middle—if you get a move on that is.”

“Good thing for you there’s no quality inspector on the job here.”

“Are you saying I do shoddy work?”

Dinah shook her head. There was no way she could say that about a man who took on every project he was given with intensity and a strong work ethic. It didn’t matter if he was shirring the material around the table for the pie-throwing booth or reinforcing the braces for the dunk tank, Alex would make sure the job was done right.

“Well, glad to hear it because I was about to be offended.”

Alex moved the drop cloth so it could double as a kneeling pad of sorts, settled on it and stuck his brush in the paint.

Dinah waited until he’d taken his first stroke before she began a conversation. “It’s probably been a boring week for you at the fire station.”

Instead of answering, he looked over at her quizzically.

“You know,” she explained. “Not a single alarm from Grove Elementary all week.”

He returned to his work with quick, efficient strokes. “That’s what we were hoping for when I conducted all those Fire Prevention Awareness presentations.” He looked up again and pinned her in his stare. “At least I thought that was what we were both hoping for.”

She waved away his comment with a flick of her brush and then scanned the floor, hoping she hadn’t spattered the paint. “Of course that’s what I want.

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