Restoring Romance

by Tamie Dearen

  Her head rotated so fast she could’ve had whiplash. “No! I appreciate all you’ve done, Adam.”

  He peered into her sapphire eyes, trying to see the hidden depths. “I thought you felt uncomfortable around me, for some reason.”

  “No, I think you’re wonderful. I care about you, Adam. I even made you something.”

  His pulse quickened as she rummaged inside the basket and retrieved a plastic container. Surly this means she has feelings for me.

  “These are my special chocolate, chocolate-chip cookies.” She held them out in trembling hands.

  “Thank you, Ash. This means so much to me.”

  He put his hand on hers, and she pulled away like she’d touched a light socket.

  “I’m glad you like them. I made batches for all the cousins.”

  He gripped the wood bench, pushing back his aggravation while silently counting to ten.

  She jumped to her feet, backing toward the front door. “I gave you more since you helped me so much this week. Thanks again, Adam. You’re the best cousin ever!”

  He upped his count to fifty.

  ASH COULD HARDLY SLEEP Sunday night, remembering Adam’s hurt expression. She’d successfully avoided being alone with him again. Though he obviously cared about her, as he did all his family, he seemed oblivious to the fact that his attentions were stirring something deeper inside her. And if she tried to explain it, he would think she was some kind of pervert, attracted to her own cousin.

  Surely, if she approached him in a business fashion, she could bridle her feelings. She bundled up and slogged through the rain to his store, Good As Old, prepared to ask for an estimate on her excess furniture. She’d grown rather attached to the ornate antiques and now planned to incorporate quite a few into her new eclectic design. Ever since Adam checked out a book from the library and explained the furniture styles of each corresponding historical period, she couldn’t look at an old chair the same way. As she watched him describe the designs, his eyes alight with excitement and love, she found herself wishing she were a chair or a settee so that he would speak about her with the same enthusiasm and admiration.

  She now understood antiques, unlike mass-produced modern furniture, were individual works of art. Though she still liked the clean lines of modern design, she appreciated how each antique provided a snapshot of history.

  Despite her newfound admiration for antiques, she still had more furniture than she could ever utilize. Thus, she came to Adam’s shop with a list of furniture she needed to sell.

  She opened the shop door and stepped over Kujo’s sleeping hulk, dripping water while she followed the clank of metal tools to a back room. As she watched him working, unaware of her presence, he moved with a more pronounced limp, occasionally rubbing his left hip.

  “Hi!”

  He spun around, a fleeting smile on his face. “Ash? Are you okay?”

  “Yes, I just came to talk business. I made a list of the antiques I won’t be using.”

  His head tilted. “You’ve decided to use some of them in the restaurant?”

  “Yes. I’m thinking I’ll call it Great Scott, and make it kind of an eclectic mix of new and old.”

  “I like it!” As he took a step toward her, his mouth pulled back in a wince.

  “Is your leg hurting?”

  His shoulders dropped, and he turned back to his project. “Yeah. I limp worse when it’s cold and damp. No use pretending I’m not crippled if the weather’s bad.”

  His joking laugh was tinged with bitterness, but she sensed sympathy would be ill-received.

  “Ha! You think I’m going to fall for that sob story?”

  “What?” He looked over his shoulder, his eyebrows arched high.

  “You think because I bake goodies for the folks down at the rehab center, you’re going to get some by claiming to be crippled? No way.”

  His lips curved in a half-hearted smile. “Still... a girl like you would never want to be with a gimp like me.”

  Ash felt her blood boiling. She wanted to scratch the eyes off whoever made Adam feel like this. “Any girl who thinks that way doesn’t deserve a guy as awesome as you.”

  “Do you mean that?’

  Suddenly, he was standing close, his earnest eyes searching hers. Her heart pattered in a zig-zag.

  I can’t control my feelings. This is hopeless. I have to drive him away before I do something stupid.

  “We need to talk about paint colors for you grandmother’s house, Adam.” Her throat felt tight, but she squeezed the words out.

  He waved his hand. “I don’t care anymore, Ash. I’m sure you’ll choose something appropriate.”

  “Black and hot pink!”

  “Huh?” He blinked.

  “Black and hot pink,” she repeated. “I want to paint the house black with hot pink trim.”

  The muscles rippled along his jaw. “Surely you don’t intend to use black and pink on the house itself. You’re welcome to paint the exterior a normal color and add a sign with your neon colors, so long as it meets the city ordinance requirements.”

  “Those are the colors I like.” Ash retreated, almost tripping over Kujo as she escaped into the rain.

  Chapter Eleven

  ADAM POUNDED AT THE stubborn nail, cursing when his hammer missed, denting the wood. His concentration was blown—all because of Ash Hendrix. From the moment he met her, he’d been frustrated with her unpredictable behavior—hot one minute and cold the next. But the past week or so, since proclaiming her absurd paint colors, she’d settled into a consistent sub-zero.

  Still... he loved her.

  He knew that now, just as he also knew he’d never been in love with Darla. He knew without a doubt he loved Ash Hendrix because, for the first time in his life, he wanted to be with her more than he wanted to live in Romance and follow his dreams.

  Adam knew Ash was unhappy here, having hinted all week about returning to New York, though she seemed to love spending time with his family. When he realized she might not stay in Romance, he told himself they could never be together. Because his heart refused to listen to his own advice, he began researching work opportunities in New York. So far, he’d found no jobs available in the Big Apple for an antique dealer/furniture restorer/rancher.

  Forcing his attention back to the task at hand, this time he swung the hammer with too much force, bending the antique nail. “Arghh!!”

  “Don’t take out your frustration on that poor table.”

  He turned to find Erin inside the shop doorway, having ignored the closed sign he slapped in the window. Her hand was buried in Kujo’s thick fur, scratching his head.

  “Kujo! What kind of guard dog are you?”

  “The kind who likes jerky.” Erin fished in her pocket for a treat, holding it in the air while Kujo wagged his long bushy tail, knocking over items on the shelf like a huge wrecking ball.

  Adam turned the hammer around to pry the bent nail from the board.

  “I’m busy right now, Erin.”

  “Yes, I can see that.” Undaunted, she strolled over to inspect his project. “Do you like Ash?”

  “She’s my cousin. Naturally, I like her.” He lost his grip on the hammer, and it tumbled, clanking to the concrete floor.

  “She’s not a blood-relative, you know.” Erin waggled her eyebrows. “There’s no reason the two of you couldn’t date.”

  “Except she’s not interested.”

  “And you are?”

  “I didn’t say that.” He snatched the hammer from the floor.

  “You don’t have to.”

  Adam groaned, attempting once again to ignore her, but she drummed her fingers on the table where he was working.

  “Verrrr-y interesting. She’s putting you off. Hmmm... Do you suppose Ash doesn’t realize you and your brothers are adopted? I’m pretty sure I told her...”

  “She must know. My mother shared my entire history. I’m lucky they adopted me too late to have embarrassing naked baby pi
ctures.”

  “Maybe she thinks you’re too old.” Erin laughed when he glared at her. “Your brother gives me that look every time I mention his age.”

  “Whatever... I don’t really care.” He pried on the nail again, ignoring the pang in his chest. “She’s obviously not interested, so I’m going to leave her alone.”

  “Did you know she’s meeting with Ryan Cooper right now?”

  “I don’t care who she meets with.” Adam delivered the lie through clenched teeth, and Erin arched an eyebrow.

  “Thou dost protest too much, methinks.” She gave him a good-natured punch in the arm. “I dropped by her house to ask her to lunch, and she barely opened the door. She said she was in a meeting, but I could see Ryan sitting on her couch. He’s an architect, right? I just wonder if she hired him because you rejected her colors.”

  “So now you’re a detective?”

  “Maybe... I love mystery books. I read about three a week.”

  “I think your imagination is making this more than it really is. Maybe Ryan’s doing the hiring—he might want her to cater an event.” Adam went back to work on the nail, applying even pressure until it loosened and came out of the board. Finally. He moved to clamp the antique nail on his anvil and pound it straight, determined to salvage it. He zeroed in on his task, pushing all thoughts of Ash onto a back burner.

  “Maybe she and Ryan are on a date.” Erin suggested.

  Adam’s hammer slipped and hit his thumb, and he let out a few choice expletives. He spoke around the thumb in his mouth. “Not Ryan Cooper! That slime-ball goes through girls faster than Kujo goes through dog food.”

  “Yes, and he’s dated almost every single girl in this town, so he’s probably looking for fresh meat, so to speak.”

  “Cooper won’t get away with this.” Adam’s heart raced inside his chest as if he were running on a treadmill. “I’ll go to his house this weekend and we’ll have a little talk—man to jerk. He’s too worried about his expensive suits to risk a fist fight.”

  “When are you going to do that? Aren’t you going to San Francisco with us tonight? I came by to see what time you want to leave.”

  “Jake’s wedding!” Adam groaned aloud, wondering how thoughts of Ash had made him forget a wedding in which he was a groomsman. “I’ll be ready by five thirty. No, make that six, since I haven’t even packed.”

  “I wouldn’t worry about it. Ash is way too wary to let someone like Ryan sweet talk his way into her life. I’m sure it’s just a business meeting, like she said.”

  “Yeah... right.” Adam pounded on the antique nail, pretending it was Ryan Cooper’s nose.

  Chapter Twelve

  “THESE LOOK GREAT, RYAN! Thanks for getting it done so fast.” Ash could barely contain her excitement, as she sat beside him on the couch, scanning the architectural plans. The new home would be perfect for housing lots of children. “I can’t believe you squeezed in six good-sized bedrooms, plus a nice master.”

  Ash had no doubt she made the right decision. The house had done its job for her—it had brought her to her family. Now the stately home needed to go back to the one man who would use it for good—Adam Walker.

  Stalling for time as she contracted Ryan Cooper to draw up new designs for the Scott house, Ash pretended she was going ahead with the restaurant. In order to explain why she hadn’t painted the exterior, she continued to argue with Adam about the paint color, enjoying his flabbergasted expression at each new outrageous color scheme she suggested.

  Ash planned to have the exterior painted as a surprise for him, and this weekend would be the perfect time to do it, while Adam was away for a friend’s wedding.

  She hummed a tune, imagining the look on Adam’s face Monday morning when he saw his Grammy’s house, painted in a traditional Queen Anne color scheme Ryan had recommended. And then, when she gave Adam the new house plans and presented the key, he would be so overcome with joy, he might struggle to fight back tears. Aunt Donna would cry for certain, because Ash planned to invite the whole family. It would be epic.

  “What about your dream of having your own restaurant?” Maggie had asked after informing Ash she’d lost her mind.

  “I’m only twenty-six years old. I have the rest of my life to start a restaurant. Adam deserves to have this house.”

  “Doesn’t he need to be married before he can adopt kids?”

  “Yes, but that won’t take long to happen. Erin said every woman in town wants to marry him, and I can certainly understand why. Once he realizes his dream can come true, he’ll find a wife in no time.” Ash told herself the sick feeling in her stomach had nothing to do with jealousy, but instead pertained to how much she would miss her new family when she moved back to New York.

  Ash knew she had no choice but to move away. As much as she wanted to stay near her family, she needed a job. She was fortunate her old restaurant had told her she was welcome back any time if things didn’t work out. Maggie hadn’t found a new roommate, either, so obviously, it was meant to be.

  “I’m glad you like the plans.”

  Ash jumped when Ryan’s voice came from so close to her ear.

  “I should let you get back to work.” She tried to stand, but his hand gripped her shoulder. He sat so close, her attempt to glare at him only resulted in her eyes crossing.

  “I’m in no hurry. I was hoping to learn more about you.” He whispered into her ear. “I find you absolutely... fascinating.”

  Loud knocks sounded from the front door, and Ash extricated herself from his grasp. “I need to answer that.”

  With a sigh of relief, she hurried to the door, wondering how she could rid herself of the cocky architect. She flung the door open and sucked in an involuntary breath. Adam stood on the porch, his scowl even darker than normal.

  “Ash, can I speak to you for a moment?”

  With her mind spinning in search of a way out, she fumbled for words. She couldn’t let Adam discover the architectural plans Ryan had drawn for her. It would totally spoil the surprise on Monday.

  “As a matter of fact, I’m busy right now. Give me a call later.”

  She swung the door closed, but it thudded to a stop. Though she pushed harder, it wouldn’t budge. At last she found the obstruction... Adam’s foot.

  Glaring through the opening, she prepared to lambast him with her best how-dare-you-do-such-a-thing. Before she could speak a word, Kujo squeezed his way past her, bounding inside with his leash dangling behind, his deafening barks accompanied by Lucky’s terrorized screeches.

  “Who’s at the door?” Ryan came up behind her and peered over her shoulder. “Hey, Walker. What’s up?”

  “What’s he doing here?” With his face red and blood vessels bulging on his temples as if he were holding his breath, Adam directed the question to Ash.

  Ryan’s hand fell on her shoulder. “I’m working on some plans for—”

  “Some plans for dinner.” Ash interrupted, twisting to slide her arm around Ryan’s waist. “Ryan’s taking me out tonight.”

  “I am?” His smile gave her the shivers, as did his hand, which moved up to caress her arm.

  “Yes, I decided I don’t feel like eating in after all.”

  “You’re not going out with him,” Adam growled.

  Ash hissed, clenching her fingers into tight balls, “I’ll go out with whomever I please.”

  “That’s right,” Ryan began. “She—”

  “Shut up, Cooper.” Adam pushed his way into the house. “Why would you want to go out with a jerk-wad like Ryan Cooper? He’s only interested in one thing.”

  “You can’t come in here and insult me.” Ryan yelled, though he made no move to follow Adam across the room.

  “What do you mean by that remark?” Ash demanded, stomping behind Adam as he corralled Kujo and grabbed his leash.

  Adam spun around. “You know exactly what I mean. Ryan Cooper is just trying to get you into bed.” He pointed an accusatory finger at Ryan, who turned beet-
red.

  “Back off, Walker!” Ryan objected. “Where do you get off saying something like that?”

  Ash marched up to Adam, trembling with anger, her hands flying about as she spoke. “So you think that little of me? You think Ryan couldn’t possibly want anything from me but sex? You assume he wouldn’t want to engage in an intelligent conversation, since I don’t have a college degree?”

  “Yeah, Baby. You tell him!” Ryan moved behind her, wrapping his arms over hers.

  “Ash, you’re putting words in my mouth.” Adam still frowned, but he shifted from foot to foot, as if the floor might fall out from under him at any moment. “Ryan’s sleaziness has nothing to do with your intelligence. He’s an equal-opportunity dirt-bag.”

  Ash’s heart threatened to bang its way through her ribs. “First of all, just because Ryan’s a sleaze bag doesn’t mean I would sleep with him.”

  Ryan protested, “Hey! You called me a—”

  “And secondly...” Ash threw Ryan’s arms off and stomped forward to pound an accusing finger on Adam’s chest, marking every syllable. “You. Can’t. Tell. Me. What. To. Do.”

  Adam backed up with each poke, as if she used a stick pin. Then his wide eyes narrowed, and his mouth tightened, his lips blanching.

  “Fine. You’re a big girl. Make your own choices. But don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

  He pushed past her and grabbed Ryan by the collar, practically dragging him to the door. Ash heard Adam’s coarse whisper, but couldn’t distinguish his words. He marched out the door and slammed it shut, leaving a white-faced Ryan behind.

  “What did he say?” As Ash’s tension leaked out, she collapsed on the couch like piece of soggy bread.

  “Nothing nice.” His forehead beaded with sweat, Ryan tugged at his collar.

  Some ridiculous part of her still wished Adam had been acting out of jealousy instead of big-brother defensiveness. But she comforted herself knowing she’d salvaged Monday morning’s big surprise.