Before he began, he gave her a quizzical smile. “This is quite romantic.”
Sara flushed and looked down. She thought the same thing.
“Sorry. I shouldn’t have said that.”
“That’s all right.”
He cleared his throat and launched into detailed explanations of the drawings, going over every aspect of the bid to Sara’s satisfaction. She happily noted electrical updates were indeed included. The final cost came well within reason according to her research, perhaps even a bit low. Still, it seemed a monstrous amount of money. But what Eli left her for the purpose would cover it, in addition to the expense of decorating and landscaping.
When he finished, she took a deep breath. “Where do I sign?”
Brian looked up in surprise. “This isn’t a contract. It’s just a bid telling you what I propose to do and how much it will cost. Now you compare this with your other bids and when you come to a decision, that person will then prepare a contract for signing.”
She regarded him across the dimly lit table. “I choose you.”
Brian studied her for a moment. “You didn’t get any other bids, did you?”
She shook her head.
“I never saw anyone out here measuring up the house, so I suspected as much.”
Sara fiddled with a pen. “It was petty of me to ask for the names of other builders in the first place.”
“No, it really is best to get several proposals.”
“Well, I only want yours. You have the job.” She reached across the table and held out her hand.
Brian grinned and shook her hand. Before he released her, he leaned over and placed a light kiss on the inside of her wrist. “I shouldn’t have done that,” he said when he sat back down.
“No, you shouldn’t have,” she croaked.
A merry look in his eyes was at odds with his serious expression. “I shall behave henceforth with all decorum and professionalism.”
“I should hope so,” Sara replied primly.
“It’s the candlelight,” he explained. “It makes your eyes look black and your skin translucent— like a heroine in a Gothic romance. I couldn’t contain myself.”
“And what do you know about Gothic romances?” she asked, wondering if he could hear her hammering heartbeat.
“Enough. I’ll be good from now on, Sara.”
She tore her gaze away from his. “When do you start work?” she asked with a lightness she didn’t feel.
“After I draw up the contract and get your signature. Say, in a couple of days?”
She nodded and abruptly stood up. Brian followed suit, rolling up the drawings and organizing his paperwork. When he had everything ready, she picked up a candle and walked with him to the back door.
When she opened the door, the flame streamed sideways and went out, plunging the room in darkness. Gradually, the light from the rising moon brought a slight outline to the planes of Brian’s face. Sara stood close enough to feel the warmth emanating from his body. She held her breath when he didn’t immediately go out the door. She sensed, rather than saw, his head coming toward her.
“Just one last indiscretion, Sara,” he whispered. Then his lips moved across hers in an achingly sweet kiss he ended way too soon. She tried to see the expression in his eyes, but his face remained bathed in shadow. In the next instant, he slipped out the door and was gone.
Sara leaned against the door jamb for support, silently berating him. If she wasn’t careful, she could be in danger of falling in love with him all over again.
Chapter Twelve
Sara sat at the roll top desk in her room and stared through the lacy sheers at the cottage. She was supposed to be going through magazines Brian had given her, but she couldn’t seem to focus on the task. Instead, she hid out in her room while the noise of construction came muffled through her bedroom door.
It had been two weeks since the remodel officially began and a lot more than the house had changed. She remembered shaking Brian’s hand after signing the contract. Before releasing her hand, he surprised her by bowing his head and praying for a safe and successful project. Afterward his expression had become inscrutable and his behavior, cool and distant.
Sara wondered if she dreamed the whole evening spent together by candlelight. Either that or he was living up to his word to treat her in a professional manner—because he was doing so with a vengeance. She knew she had no right to assume he'd pick up where they left off in California. Despite her deep attraction to him, Sara wasn't even sure what she wanted. And yet each day when she awoke, a suffocating excitement filled her at seeing him again. And each day she ended up disappointed at his detached behavior while he went about setting the renovation in motion.
Brian had hired a crew, which consisted of three men from the community, all in their early twenties. Peter, Jeff, and Todd proved to be hard workers and started the kitchen demolition along with Brian. After the demolition, they framed in a kitchen bump-out to accommodate restaurant sized appliances and extra workspace.
Brian had all but ignored her except to discuss the progress, and she had to admit it hurt a little. He acted the way she wanted him to behave a few weeks ago, but now, in her heart, things were as messed up as her house. She began to make snacks for him and the crew with the obscure hope Brian might look on her with warmth again. Despite her efforts, he remained as distantly polite as ever. She’d wanted a professional relationship, right? So why couldn’t she be satisfied?
Disgusted with her ambivalent behavior, Sara went into the kitchen, ostensibly to check the progress. Jeff, Peter, and Todd looked up at her entry, and she smiled absently in their direction. Her gaze sought out Brian’s tall form. She saw him talking to the electrician.
Brian looked in her direction and ended his conversation. Her breath lodged in her throat when he strode toward her with obvious purpose. She tried not to squeak when he casually placed his arm around her shoulders in full view of the crew.
Sara knew she had a sickening, doting expression on her face when she looked up at him. Brian gazed into her eyes, squeezed her shoulders and led her out of the kitchen. In the living room he suddenly dropped his arm. Sara felt a distinct chill, whether from the break in bodily contact or the cool gaze he was sending her way, she wasn’t sure.
“Do you know why I did that?” he asked.
Sara studied his solemn features, hoping to detect a spark of warmth, but found none. She shook her head.
“I don’t want the guys to start bothering you so I thought it might be a good idea if they thought you were...spoken for.”
“Oh.” She didn’t know what else to say. The rush from the heights to the depths made her feel decidedly cranky.
“They’re great guys and good workers, but they’re very young, and I think they’ve become somewhat distracted by your presence.”
Sara rolled her eyes, not believing any 'distraction' nonsense. If anything, they only saw her as a plate of cookies or purveyor of soda pop. Brian barely noticed her anymore and he was the only one who mattered. “Besides,” she added sweetly, “they’re nice, and not so young. I’d say they’re about the same age as me.”
Brian watched Sara’s expressive face, intensely aware of her proximity as they stood together in the living room. He felt he acted unwisely with her the night the light fuses had blown. He hoped, by distancing himself emotionally, or at least appearing to do so, he might regain some of the ground he feared he’d lost by pressing his attentions upon her.
Though more difficult than he imagined, Brian was determined to treat Sara respectfully—as he should’ve from the very beginning. But now, he found it especially hard to pretend his arm around her had no effect on him. Her form had pressed against his side and the subtle perfume of her hair lingered even now.
But he’d picked up sly looks and bits of conversation from the crew members. While he trusted their abilities at their job, he didn’t trust them at all when it came to flirting with Sara. The realization
they were the same age as her rankled, making him feel ancient by comparison. They could probably be considered good-looking as well, which didn’t improve his mood. He had to be careful in case one of them tried to ask her out when he wasn’t paying attention. Brian scowled at the thought.
“Why are you looking at me that way?”
Brian’s focused his gaze on Sara. “What way?”
“With that scary expression on your face. I’m trying to decided if I should be afraid.”
“No more cookies for the guys, okay?”
She shrugged noncommittally as if unwilling to be bossed around. He stared hard at her for a moment before going back to work.
***
Although Sara felt puzzled and disappointed by the change in Brian’s behavior, she had plenty to do and that should’ve kept her from dwelling on her quandary. But as her body mechanically performed the tasks at hand, her mind ran at full tilt.
While the first floor of the house was turned into a construction zone, she worked upstairs, cleaning the walls and floors, prepping for painting and refinishing. Outside dismal, blustery weather lashed against the windows, making them rattle in their frames.
Sara thought about how Brian acted the affectionate suitor over the past few days, moments that were part bliss and part agony. He played his part quite well and Sara was tempted to return the affection in such a way as to leave no doubt of her true feelings for him. But she was a coward. If he were to respond with distaste, she knew she couldn’t bear it. After her hands-off attitude toward him, she felt uncomfortable by these new emotions raging within her. It seemed the tables had turned.
Sara glanced at her watch. Noon. Her unsettled feelings dulled her appetite so she decided to keep working until she felt hungry. She knew of a few nail heads in the fir flooring that needed to be removed in one of the bedrooms. Grumbling about people who hammered in nails to stop a floor from squeaking which really only marred the wood, Sara went in search of a hammer.
Downstairs all was silent. Apparently everyone had left for lunch. Sara spied Brian’s tool belt lying on the counter near the back door in the kitchen. From time to time, she needed a hammer, screwdriver, or tape measure, and she borrowed Brian’s tools—only when he wasn’t looking. Otherwise she risked having a run-in with him. Either he acted grumpy, mumbling about her lifting his tools or, if the crew was in sight, he got all pretend mushy on her. Sara grimaced at the thought. She went to the tool belt, deftly slid out the hammer from the leather loop, and zipped back upstairs.
After removing the offending nails from the bedroom floor, Sara heard sounds of everyone returning from lunch. She glanced at the hammer in her hand. Uh oh.
“Sara!” Brian yelled in a voice heavily tinged with annoyance. “I need my tape measure! Do you have it?”
She started guiltily, realizing she couldn’t remember where she left it after borrowing it earlier that morning. Leaving the hammer behind, she trotted down the stairs, trying to come up with a believable excuse. She came to an abrupt stop when she saw him standing in the dining room, glaring at her with his arms crossed over his chest.
“Yes?” she asked, striving to look innocent.
“My tape measure, please.”
“Why are you assuming I have it?”
“Because you’re the only one who takes my tools.”
“Perhaps you misplaced it?”
He held out his hand. “Tape measure.”
Sara pursed her lips. “Um, don’t you have more than one?”
“Yes, but they are all out in my truck and as you can see, it’s pouring outside.”
“Well, a big strong man like you isn’t going to melt from a little rain.”
He began to advance on her, looking like thunder. Tired of the fake courtship, some imp prompted her to give him a taste of his own medicine. She heard the crew working in the next room. “I think I left it in the kitchen.”
In a mocking manner, Brian ushered her to lead the way. Todd, Peter, and Jeff looked up momentarily when they came in. Sara stood in the middle of the room, tapping her chin as if trying to remember where she left the tool.
“I’m waiting,” said Brian, standing directly in front of her.
Before she could change her mind, she placed her hands on his chest and pressed her lips against his. She stepped away after a moment, satisfied when she saw the crewmen snickering. “Is that what you were waiting for?”
Brian’s face went fiery red as he visibly struggled to compose himself. Sara gave a little wave and strode from the room. From there, she ran upstairs and locked herself in one of the bedrooms. Well, you wanted to call his bluff. Now what?
She waited for Brian to come after her, half afraid and half hopeful, wondering if she’d gone mad. Sara looked out the window and decided to blame everything on the rotten weather. After thirty minutes she realized he wasn’t going to demand any explanations, so she unlocked the door and resumed working.
Brian reminded himself he had a role to play—a role he started in the first place. Ignoring the knowing looks from his crew, he forced himself to continue working. While a part of him was miffed Sara caught him off guard, a stubborn smile tugged at the corners of his lips. He deserved his comeuppance for the way he’d treated her lately.
His attempt to deal with her politely, along with occasionally holding her close under false pretenses, had left him feeling like a bear. This attitude admittedly spilled over from time to time, and Sara ended up the target more often than not. He was after all, a romantically frustrated man, unused to waiting for what he wanted.
Brian found he looked forward to the confrontation that would no doubt occur later—after the guys went home.
***
Sara blew a wisp of hair from her face. She was filthy from all the scrubbing of the bedroom walls and her muscles ached. She flopped down on the floor and leaned her head against the wall, closing her eyes for a moment. When she opened her eyes, she glanced up at the ceiling. An uncovered attic access hole loomed above. She'd used it to store supplies while prepping the ceiling. Sara cocked her head, noticing an object protruding from the edge.
She struggled to her feet and climbed a nearby ladder to take a peek. The ladder wasn’t in exactly the right position but she didn’t want to go to the effort of moving it. Stretching out her arm, she grabbed at what stuck out over the ledge. Her fingertips brushed against something metal. A tool? She leaned out further.
Sara experienced a sudden sensation of weightlessness. The ladder! She scrabbled wildly in the air until her fingers came into contact with the ledge of the opening. Grabbing hold, she held on with all her strength as the ladder crashed down beneath her.
Her death grip dislodged what caught her attention in the first place. A tape measure, screwdriver, and framing square hurtled out from the ledge, pummeling her in the head and shoulders on their way past. Gasping in pain didn’t stop her from feeling an odd tickle against her fingers. Spiders?
A glance below convinced her she couldn’t just drop from a twelve-foot ceiling without risking bones and ligaments on the upended ladder directly beneath her. Sara threw back her head and yelled for Brian.
A few moments later—which felt like forever—Brian burst into the room. When he saw her predicament, his look of alarm turned to one of mischief.
“Well, well, what have we here?” he asked, leaning negligently against the door frame.
“Help me down, quick!” she rasped.
Brian saw the tools on the floor and bent to retrieve them. “Looks like you found my tools.”
“You could say that they found me. Please hurry!”
In a finicky manner, he replaced the tools back into his tool belt. Brushing off his hands, he smirked. “What will I get in reward for helping you down?”
Arm muscles burning, Sara glared down at him. “How about me not suing you, because if I fall, I most certainly will!”
“This is your fault, not mine.”
“Please!”
Sara released the ledge and grabbed him around the neck as he lowered her down the length of his body. When her feet touched the ground, she quickly stepped away from him, trying to regain her equilibrium both physically and emotionally.
A dark shape whizzed past her and plopped onto the floor. Sara let out a little scream and hopped back toward Brian. A huge, hairy spider scuttled away, but before it could get too far, he put his heavy duty, steel-toed work boot to good use.
“Now, that’s two rewards you owe me,” he said smugly.
Breathing hard, Sara, brushed off her clothes and rubbed her sore arms. Disturbed feelings coursed through her from his helpful embrace. She finally looked up at him, lifting her chin defiantly. “Since I already 'paid' for one reward in advance, a single thank you should suffice.”
Brian grinned and pulled a clean handkerchief from his pocket. He gently took her chin in his hand. “You have dust smeared all over your face.”
Sara forgot to breathe when she saw the tender expression in his eyes. It took quite an effort to keep her hands at her sides.
“That’s better,” he said, stuffing the handkerchief into his back pocket. He put his hands on his hips and regarded her with a wickedly gleeful look in his eyes.
Sara tucked a curl behind her ear and shifted uneasily from foot to foot, wondering if he’d say anything about that kiss downstairs. “So, how did things go today?” She felt her face heat. “Uh, work-wise, that is.”
Brian remained silent for several heartbeats. “The roof of the addition is framed in and as soon as the weather settles down, we’ll get the new roof on. By the way, there’s a big home and remodeling show at the Expo center in Portland in two days. I think it would be good if we went, since it would help you see how things look all put together. You need to start choosing your appliances and fixtures because some of that needs to be ordered in advance.”
Restorations (Book One Oregon In Love) Page 10