Indy pried open the lid on the paint for Griffin’s bedroom. She’d chosen a shade deeper than maroon, with a tinge of brown. She smeared a patch onto the wall to check it. She’d hired a couple of college kids to help with the painting, but today she worked alone in order to stay on schedule. The doctor said to limit her exposure to the paint; so as long as the windows were open and she wore the respirator, she and the baby would be okay.
While she worked, she thought about Griffin. She didn’t know what to make of him. He’d wanted to go out to dinner to talk about decorating, but he’d spent all of five minutes looking at the proposal for each room before signing. Then he’d spent the rest of the time talking about his charitable foundation.
His excitement shone with every word. The charity
