Page 43 of The Perfect Distraction

“Done yet?”

“Yep. All set,” she said, replacing the cap and setting the bottle back on the table.

Colton shifted himself to a seated position, being careful not to rub his back against the couch. “Thanks.”

“You’re welcome.” And then they stared at each other for a few beats. Now what? Given the condition of his back, they couldn’t make out, so…

“Do you want to watch a movie or something?” he asked with a hopeful lilt to his voice.

“Not unless you do.”

He chuckled. “It was just a suggestion.”

“You could show me the rest of your house.”

“Ah. Good idea.”

He slowly stood up, grimacing as his back stretched, but then he seemed better as he led her from room to room, pointing out pieces of furniture that he’d made along the way. She noted the pride in his voice as he talked about how he’d crafted some of the pieces, and she felt pride in him too.

“You’re very talented.”

“Why, thank you,” he said, sounding genuinely pleased.

After touring the first floor, he motioned to the stairs and followed her up the narrow staircase. The first bedroom at the top was Joey’s, and when she stepped into the room, she smiled. It was a typical boy’s room with an assortment of sports equipment leaned up against one wall and a collection of trophies on his desktop.

“Those are from soccer,” Colton said proudly.

And then, glancing up at a shelf above his bed, she got her first look at Joey’s mom and Colton’s ex-wife.

Colton must have seen where she was looking and cleared his throat loudly. “We can go on to the next room now.”

“Wait. I’d like to see the picture. Please.”

He nodded, and she walked over to the shelf so she could see the photo up close. Joey was younger then, probably four or five years old, and he was sitting on his mom’s lap while she was reading to him. Colton had probably snapped it without them knowing, because neither of them was looking at the camera.

“She’s very pretty,” Beth said. Even though Gretchen’s head was tipped down, Beth noticed the way her dark-brown hair framed her face and the soft smile she wore as she read to her son. It struck her that maybe Joey’s enjoyment of reading had faded after his mom had left. Maybe an activity that had once been equated with comfort and love had lost its meaning after the divorce.

“That’s an old picture,” Colton replied.

She could tell by his voice that he felt uncomfortable, but what were they to do about it? Pretend that neither of them had loved someone else? Besides, it didn’t really matter. They were only going to see each other for the next several weeks and then…

“Beth? Everything okay?”

She turned toward him and nodded. “Let’s continue the tour.”

After they left Joey’s room, his relief was palpable. They breezed through a spare bedroom/study, peeked into the hall bathroom, and then they reached the master bedroom. The furniture in Colton’s room was dark and masculine, befitting the man who’d made it. At least, she assumed he had.

“It’s walnut,” he said, gliding his hand over the top of his dresser.

Watching him do so made her wish he would touch her like that—with reverence and care. The blinds were closed, and sunlight filtered in through the slats, lending the space a cool, cave-like quality. Suddenly, she shivered.

Colton stepped toward her and ran his hands gently down her arms. “Cold?”

“No. Just a little nervous.”

He smiled. “I admire your honesty.”

“I don’t know how to pretend.”