Read Online Fiesta Moon by Linda Windsor - Free Book Online Page B

.” she said.
    â€œSure.” Mark complied, cocking one brow in confusion.
    â€œGood thing this is water-based paint.”
    â€œYeah.” He watched the swing of her yellow-streaked ponytail and the sway of her feminine form as she wiped the Rockports inside with a clean rag.
    â€œThere’s a shower in the utility room.” She straightened and pointed to a pass-through between the kitchen and the yellow room, where a wringer washer stood at attention next to a pink-curtained enclosure. “Towels are in the metal cabinet,” she said, pointing to the opposite wall. “You can wash the bulk of the paint off and put your jeans back on. Thank goodness it wasn’t a full can.”
    â€œAre you thankful because you still have another can of paint left, or because I didn’t get the whole batch?” Her tactics might not be fair, but they were more fun, especially when she smiled like that.
    â€œBoth.”
    Despite their differences, they had a matched sense of humor— once all stresses were removed.
    â€œSpeaking of which, where did you find such a—” No adjective Mark could summon was mentionable, so he picked a lesser one. “Hideous color?”
    â€œSoledad picked it out at the premixed counter.”
    Ah, the bumblebee. That explained a lot.
    â€œWhat do you have against sunshine yellow?”
    â€œIt just reminded me of my breakfast this morning. My unfavorite style of eggs—runny.”
    She wrinkled her nose. “Eww.”
    â€œMy thoughts exactly. Imagine my surprise to be wearing the matching color so soon afterward.”
    â€œOh no.” She broke into a melodic laugh. “No wonder you looked so . . . so . . . like a cross Big Bird. But,” she said, clearing the humor from her voice, “you’ll be delighted to know that this is Soledad’s room and not yours. I thought you might take the salon across the hall.”
    â€œSounds good. I’ll check it out after I get some of this off.”
    As he peeled off his shirt and tossed it onto the pile of dirty rags, Corinne did an abrupt turn, hastening to straighten the rumpled tarp. Mark grinned from the inside out with mischief as he glanced down at the faded version of the yellow on his chest. “I’ll call you when I need my back scrubbed.”
    Head pivoting in his direction like a tank turret, she aimed and fired. “I don’t feel that guilty, Madison. But there is a new toilet bowl brush in there.”
    â€œYou’re a hard woman,” he said over his shoulder, heading into the utility bath and closing the door behind him.
    â€œRemember that, and we’ll get along just fine,” Corinne called after him, dismissing the twinge of chemistry that shot through her when he stripped off his shirt. She and Pam, her college roommate, had coined a word for it. Twickle .
    â€œJust fine,” she repeated, more for herself than for the man in the bath. But she must have been mistaken. How could a bare-chested Big Bird cause anyone to twickle?
    Lord, I do not need . . .
    â€œFirst, you beat on the wall like so, señor,” Soledad’s voice carried from the kitchen. She demonstrated, knocking three times. The echo reverberated through the empty house. “ Y ahora . . . turn on the hot water and—”
    Mark interrupted. “I can handle a shower, gracias .”
    â€œ Así así, así así . . .” So-so, the housekeeper buzzed over and over with undisguised disdain.
    â€œBetter listen, or you’ll be sorry,” Corinne called out as she shoved the soaked paint rags into the empty bucket.
    But before she could explain why, someone from the front of the house called out her name. “Hola, Señorita Diaz? Are you in the house?”
    â€œComing!”
    With a glance at the paint film drying on the floor where the tarp hadn’t caught it, Corinne went into the foyer, where a Mexican gentleman stood