Opposite the kitchen sat a small family room, hallmarked by a brick hearth with an understated leather couch, armchair, and the same coffee table he’d seen at Owen’s house, which he happened to know doubled as a gun safe. Rustic accents were tastefully scattered around the room—an antique pitcher along with dried plants on the mantel, paintings of chickens and tractors, and an old pallet sign that said, Life is Better on the Farm.
“Wow,” he said again. “Looks a little different on the inside.”
“Yeah.” Everly quickly straightened the shoes that were piled next to the door as though she was embarrassed by that tiny display of disorganization. “It was a lot of work. Which is why I haven’t had time to fix up the outside.”
Mateo whirled to face her. “You did all this yourself?” She had to be pulling his leg. There was no way. The cabinets had been completely refinished. And then there were the floors…
“Sure.” She shrugged like it was nothing more than a simple weekend project. “It’s amazing what a little elbow grease can do for a space.”
Judging from the house’s rough exterior, this had taken a hell of a lot more than a little elbow grease. “The floors look incredible.” Yes, he was fishing, but he never would’ve guessed a lawyer from San Francisco knew anything about refinishing oak floors.
Everly drifted over to the kitchen, where she started to rinse the few dishes that sat in the sink, carefully placing them in the stainless dishwasher. “I rented a sander, then watched a YouTube video on how to stain them.”
A YouTube video? He happened to know that refinishing and staining floors was not an easy job. He’d helped Gunner do the same thing at his place. “What about the cabinets?” Mateo wandered through the kitchen, examining the perfect paint job.
“Stripped them and painted them myself.” A hint of pride spoke through the words, as though she knew he doubted her. But she didn’t gloat. She wouldn’t even look at him while she wiped up the counter. Which was funny considering he couldn’t stop staring at her. All of these new revelations cast her in a different light.
It seemed he’d misjudged Everly Brooks.
“You know that’s not your job as a renter, right?” She shouldn’t have to pay to renovate a house she didn’t own. It didn’t make sense. It wasn’t like she’d get anything out of the investment. “That’s the landlord’s responsibility.”
“Owen told me I could do whatever I wanted. He didn’t have the time or money. And since I planned to—” That guarded expression took over her face again. “Never mind. It’s no big deal. I loved doing it.”
“Since you planned to what?” Mateo strode over to her, searching her eyes. He had a feeling he already knew. She’d planned to buy the place. Obviously. Why else would she have put all this work into it? A sudden tension pulled at his temples, signaling the beginning of a nasty headache. He’d misjudged more than Everly’s talents. He’d also misjudged her commitment to the farm. She’d already started to make it her home.
Leaving his question unanswered, Everly moved briskly down the short hallway that opened up between the kitchen and living room. “The guestroom is back here.”
Mateo trudged behind her, wading through a quicksand of complications. He was moving into Everly’s cozy little house at the same time he was talking with Blake Wilder about demolishing it. Shit. He shouldn’t stay here. He couldn’t.
“This will be your room.” She gestured to the door on the left and reached in to turn on the light, which flickered weakly over their heads before brightening.
“Do the lights always do that?” More dollar signs danced around his head. Rewiring the place would take another ten grand.
“Only once in a while.” She shrugged with a smile. “It’s charming, really.”
Sure, charming. Or faulty, outdated wiring…
“I haven’t had time to do much with this room yet.” Everly seemed to watch his face for a reaction.
Mateo pulled his attention away from the light and glanced around. The room was bare except for a plain oak dresser and a queen-sized bed. “It’s fine.” At least, the room was fine. But staying in it for the next month while he made plans to demolish it? That didn’t feel right. “I don’t want to intrude on your space though. I should stay with Levi.”
“You don’t like the room?”
Great. Now he’d offended her. “No. It’s not that. The room is nice.” He didn’t need much. Just the basics. But… “This is your house.” And it was small. Living room, kitchen, two bedrooms, probably one bathroom. So he wouldn’t be able to avoid her. They’d see each other all the time. He’d already proven once he couldn’t keep his head straight when she was around, and he hadn’t even slept across the hall from her or run into her in her pajamas yet. Mamacita, her pajamas. Did she wear that John Deere T-shirt and nothing else to bed every night? Would she wear it around the kitchen in the morning? A sensual curiosity drew his gaze back to her body. So damn perfect. What would it feel like to touch her? He let himself imagine it, just for a second, running his hand from the curve of her waist up her shirt, feeling that soft skin under his fingers…
“You’re staying here,” Everly informed him. “Really. It’s no trouble at all. It makes zero sense for you to take everything over to Levi’s house when I have a perfectly good room for you here.” Her resolute tone left no room for him to disagree. In addition to her handyman skills, the woman also had developed a talent for winning arguments.
“Fine. I’ll stay.” What else could he say? “I appreciate it.” He’d appreciate it a lot more if that attraction between them didn’t spark every time she stood close. He knew how soft her lips were, how it felt when her hands worked their way over his shoulders. They’d ended that kiss with things unfinished, and every time he was around her, he couldn’t help but wonder what it would feel like to take it further.
And from the way she kept sneaking looks at him, he had to wonder if she was thinking the same thing. It was going to be mighty hard to keep his hands to himself for the next month. Hopefully the repairs on his trailer wouldn’t take that long. He’d only spent ten minutes in this house with Everly and already he was feeling conflicted about things. He hated feeling conflicted. He’d always been a black-and-white sort of person. Practical. Especially when it came to finances.
“The bathroom is right here.” Everly slipped out of the guestroom and opened the door at the end of the hall, leaving the third one closed. That must be her room. Yeah, he definitely didn’t belong in there, but, again, his mind wandered. Was the bed soft and feminine? He had no business finding out, and he’d best remember that.
“The plumbing is a little finicky,” Everly said, drawing his attention back to the bathroom. This room had been updated, too. One pedestal sink, a new toilet, and a claw foot tub with a rain showerhead and a white gauzy shower curtain that would hide absolutely nothing if, say, he happened to walk in on her in the shower…
“Just an FYI, the hot and cold faucets are mixed up.” Everly’s gaze hesitated against his as though she was trying to hear his thoughts. “It’s not so bad once you get used to it.”
“Doesn’t bother me.” None of this bothered him. He’d keep telling himself that. “The trailer doesn’t have the best shower, either.”
Everly nodded quickly then zipped past as though she couldn’t stand to be trapped in such close quarters with him. “I can clean out a few cabinets in the kitchen so you’ll have room for your groceries. And I’m sure all of your boxes and tubs will fit in the cellar. There’s access on the outside of the house.”
“Sounds good.” Mateo followed her at a safe distance. At least it should’ve been safe, but the back of her looked just as good as the front in those skinny jeans she was wearing. He quickly dropped his gaze to the floor.
Once they reached the living room again, Everly went to slip on her boots by the door. “I guess we should unload your truck, huh?”
“That’s okay.” Hopefully she didn’t pick up on the panic
that had edged into his voice. “I’m sure you have stuff to do. I can handle the unpacking.” What he didn’t know how to handle were the feelings she stirred in him.
Even after a week, being alone in Everly’s house still felt…wrong. And yet it was better than the alternative—being here with her on a cozy evening, that light rain tapping the windowpanes while the cold air begged for a fire in the hearth.
Mateo rinsed his soup bowl and assessed where to put it in the dishwasher. Everly seemed to be one of those people who had a system for keeping the dishes organized. When he’d lived in his trailer he’d tossed them in wherever they fit, but for the last week he’d been walking on eggshells. So far, he’d managed to miss seeing her in the mornings. He’d wait to come out of his room until he heard her leave the house. Then he’d rush through a shower and take off for Levi’s place, where he’d spend the day training. Everly hadn’t been around much in the evenings, so he’d heat up a quick dinner for himself before going out to the Tumble Inn or to Levi’s house for poker. Every night when he came home her door was already closed. He had no idea if she was sleeping or just avoiding him the way he was avoiding her. Didn’t matter either way. So far it had worked. Now, if they could only keep it up for another three weeks.
Mateo went back to inspecting the top shelf of the dishwasher. Guess you couldn’t go wrong wedging the bowl in with the other bowls, right? He made it fit, then closed up the dishwasher and went back to the kitchen table.
Dante had been lying at his feet while he’d eaten his dinner, but now his dog was gone. That couldn’t be good. He called in his most authoritative voice, but Dante didn’t come running the way he usually did when he knew he might get in trouble. “Hey, pup, where’d you go?” He lightened up on the sternness and rounded the corner into the hallway. Everly’s bedroom door stood wide open.
That definitely wasn’t good. He hadn’t seen her bedroom door left open once. “Dante, come.”
The dog did not obey, so he had no choice but to step into the room. It looked like a page from one of those magazines Charity was always looking at—Country Style or some shit like that. The walls were painted a calming gray, as pale as the clouds that misted over the mountaintops outside. A massive four-poster bed dominated the small space. Mateo studied the intricate carving on each of the posts. Looked like it’d been handmade. Knowing what he knew about Everly now, he wouldn’t be surprised if she’d carved the damn thing herself.
The bed linens were a crisp white and had that soft look like they were stuffed with downy feathers. It seemed to be a bed made for two—a place to lounge around on late Sunday mornings or a place to hunker down and make love on a cold rainy night.
Over the last week Mateo had gotten better at ignoring thoughts like that, but a seductive scent in the air played with his head. It was something subtle but sexy, more spice than floral. The kind of scent that would catch his attention, even in a crowded room. The kind of scent that had distracted him from searching for his delinquent dog.
“Dante.” Mateo strode to the other side of the bed, noting the absence of any personal touches. There were no pictures of Everly, no pictures of anyone, which didn’t seem right.
But anyway…his dog. Everly’s personal life was none of his business.
“Dante?” He finally made it to the closet. It was bigger than he’d anticipated, a full walk-in, which must’ve been added after the house was built based on the way the wall seams didn’t line up. Way back in the corner, his dog had stretched out and was lazily gnawing on what looked to be a very expensive stiletto.
“Leave it.” Mateo’s voice bordered on a growl, and the dog immediately heeded the warning, dropping the shoe before he took off like a shot, bounding over Mateo’s boots and out of reach.
“Come on, man.” He knelt and picked up the shoe, inspecting the damage. Everly would never be wearing the sparkly silver heel again. Not with all of those teeth marks. “Why do you have to make trouble, Dante?” The dog was likely already out of earshot, hiding under the kitchen table or something. It was probably because Mateo had kept him on lockdown in his room whenever he wasn’t around to keep the dog in line. This was his punishment. Now he’d be forced to have a conversation with Everly while holding what could only be described as a fuck me shoe. And damn, if she had these things on he’d be more than glad to.
He set the shoe back on the low shelf next to its match. There were a lot of shoes in the closet. Nice ones. Shiny heels in just about every color. The clothes were nice, too. Along one wall, Everly had hung tattered jeans and flannel shirts and ragged worktops, but all along the other wall were the clothes she must’ve worn in her other life—suits and sexy low-cut dresses and swanky silk blouses. A grin pulled at his mouth. She hadn’t ditched her lawyer wardrobe when she’d moved to Topaz Falls. She’d lived here for over two years, and she still hadn’t gotten rid of her old clothes. Maybe there was a part of her that didn’t want to. Maybe she still wondered about going back…
His phone rang, sending a shot of panic through him that made him flail out of the closet. Luckily it was only his sister Ana’s number.
He quickly strode out of Everly’s room and firmly closed the door behind him. He’d have to talk to her about the shoe later. And maybe take his troublemaker dog over to Levi’s for an extended stay. Back in his own room, he clicked on the phone and brought it to his ear. “Hey, hermanita.”
“Mateo?” Static blipped through the line. “Is that you? You sound out of breath.”
That’s because I was snooping around my hot tenant’s closet. He almost laughed. Ana would murder him. “Of course it’s me. I was just…lifting.” Not a complete lie. He and Ty and Levi had gone to the gym earlier.
“Well, go take a shower. I’m coming through town in about two hours. Can you meet for dinner?”
“I’m sorry, what?” The phone must’ve cut out. “You’re coming through town?” His sister had always been impulsive, but why the hell would she drive all the way down from Seattle without a phone call? Wasn’t it the middle of her semester?
“I need to talk to you,” she said impatiently. “In person.”
That might as well have pulled the rug right out from under his feet. Everything around him seemed to spin. “Jesus, what’s wrong? Are you okay? Is everything okay? Is it Mamá?”
“Buen Dios, Mateo.” That kind of mutter always came with an eye roll. “Get a grip. Everything is fine. Where can I meet you?”
He sank to the bed. If everything were fine, she wouldn’t be driving through Topaz Falls on some unannounced trip, but Ana’s stubbornness rivaled his bronc’s. She wouldn’t tell him what was up until she wanted to. “How about on Main Street? There’s a mediocre Italian restaurant.” Which he couldn’t even remember the name of. “You can’t miss it.”
“Sounds perfect,” Ana said. “I’ll see you soon.”
Chapter Eight
If Everly could take one picture that communicated exactly why Topaz Falls needed the farm, this would be it.
She stood back and watched little Benny and Jake Hart toddle around the potato patch and dig up the yams that were ready to harvest. Kenna, their mom, followed behind them reminding them they couldn’t eat the potatoes until they were cooked. The two towheaded young boys were covered in dirt, which only seemed to make them happier. They used Everly’s small spade shovels to dig up the yams, and every time they uncovered one, they cheered and hugged like they’d found a buried treasure.
She almost wished Mateo would come outside so he could see this. So he could see that this place made a difference. The Hart family had been through hell over the last month after Kenna’s husband had been indicted for insurance fraud. He’d been quite the successful agent in town until people realized he was stealing from them. In one day, Kenna had lost her marriage and most of her friends in Topaz Falls.
Everly didn’t know her well, but when the three of them had come to the café for lunch, she’d invited them to stay for the afternoon a
nd help her with some work on the farm. So far, the boys had helped her weed the gardens, pick what was left of the winter squash, and clean out the goat pens. All in between rides in the wheelbarrow, of course. The boys seemed so much more exuberant than they had when they’d walked into the café. And even Kenna had laughed and smiled watching them transform into little farmers.
Everly glanced toward the farmhouse, where Mateo’s truck was parked. See? she wanted to yell. This place matters. Broken hearts could more easily be mended under the sun, with your hands in the dirt while you worked in the shadow of the beautiful mountains. It had definitely helped her heal.
“Don’t think there’s any more whams,” Benny said, stomping over to where Everly stood. Clumps of mud weighed down his shoes.
Grunting, Jake dragged over the basket they’d filled. “But we found lots.”
“You sure did.” Everly crouched and picked up a yam, carefully inspecting it. “In fact, you might’ve found the magic yams.”
Benny’s eyes went wide. “Magic whams?”
“Yep.” She set the vegetable back in the basket and stood. “These ones are special. They have so many vitamins that they’ll make you grow big and strong.”
The boys looked into the basket with awe.
“How about you take half of them home?” Everly shared a smile with Kenna. “Then your mom can cook them for you.”
Benny’s nose wrinkled. “I don’t think I like whams.”
“I didn’t either,” Everly admitted. “Until I started putting butter and brown sugar on them.”
“Sugar?” The boys said it at the same time.
“You can eat yams with sugar,” Everly confirmed. “That’s why it’s my favorite vegetable.”
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