by Stacy Finz
“That was nice of you to pass his name along. I know he’ll appreciate it.”
“If you don’t mind me saying, he seems different these days.”
Harlee tilted her head. “What do you mean?”
Emily grew slightly uncomfortable, like maybe she had overstepped her bounds. “I don’t know.” She fidgeted with an egg timer on the kitchen counter. “He just always seemed sad before. I never wanted to pry, but having had my own tragedy, I suspected that there might’ve been something difficult in his past. Anyway, since you moved in next door to him, I’ve noticed a change. He seems, well, happy.”
Harlee didn’t know what to say. From their first meeting, Harlee had concluded that there was something different about Colin. But the difference is what made him interesting—and attractive. Some might see his phobias as tragic, but she didn’t. Unfortunate, for sure. But they were just part of him, the same way some people had nervous ticks or allergies. Instead of dwelling on the issues, you just learned to work around them, like going gluten free or whatever.
“He’s just shy.” Harlee tried for nonchalance. “Being around me has probably made him less so. That’s all.”
“Maybe that’s it.” But Harlee knew Emily wasn’t buying it.
“I need to get going.” She had a new client who wanted her to run a check on two different love interests. The woman thought a background check might help her eliminate one of them. “Thanks for the wonderful lunch and for showing me around. In the interest of full disclosure, I was super curious about the place.”
“You’re welcome anytime, Harlee.” Emily smiled.
When they got back to the main house, Harlee went inside to say goodbye to Colin, who was ripping out the rest of the tiled countertops with a crowbar. He walked her out to her truck and pinned her against the driver’s door.
“You get a good look around?” He winked.
“What? I came to bring you lunch, which by the way I left inside if you get hungry and want a snack.”
He chuckled, low, deep in his throat. “Sure you did.”
“Hey,” she said back, “I secured us an invite to the big wedding.”
“I don’t do weddings.”
Harlee got the strong impression that those four words carried a double meaning. And for some inexplicable reason that bothered her. A lot. “Well, if I’m still here, which I pray to God I’m not, I’ll be going to that wedding.”
Colin frowned, his eyes fixed on hers. They seemed to say, “What are we getting ourselves into, you and me?” Then he kissed her, his body firmly pressed against her until she felt heat pool way down in her midsection.
“Go,” he said against her lips. “Otherwise I can’t be responsible for my actions.”
She left with the taste of him still on her lips and the niggling fear that things had just gotten unexpectedly complicated.
“Can you put this on the list too?” Samantha Dunsbury, Nugget’s mystery resident, ran her hand down the pine log of a canopy bed.
Colin looked at Harlee, who gave a little half shrug, grinned, and added the bed to the list. For about an hour Sam had been walking through his cluttered wood shop, picking out pieces of furniture with the same casualness as a shopper buying groceries.
True to Emily’s words, Sam had called, saying that she needed a couple of pieces for her new rental. Sam’s idea of a couple of pieces had turned into four rocking chairs, a coffee table, a hall tree, a dining room set, and the bed.
“So you don’t do couches, huh?” Sam asked as she bounced between a nightstand and dresser.
“Nothing upholstered,” Colin replied, and glanced out the window to see that the heavy downpour of rain that had cut his day short on Sophie and Mariah’s job had turned into a light dusting of snow.
“I think leather would look great with this stuff, don’t you?”
Colin hadn’t given it much thought, but muttered, “Sure,” just to be agreeable. “Hey, Sam, this stuff ain’t cheap.” She hadn’t once asked the price of any of his pieces.
“I wouldn’t imagine it would be.” She looked up from the chest of drawers she’d been examining and smiled. “You’re an artist, Colin Burke. I’ll take this, as well as the nightstand. Is there a delivery service around here I can hire?”
“I’ll deliver it,” Colin said. He’d never had a single sale this large. The least he could do was throw in free delivery. Hell, he’d even set up the bed for her.
“Awesome,” she said. “I guess I’ll order the sofas on the Internet. I’m seeing a lot of neutral colors, cozy rugs, maybe some Western art.”
“It sounds like you’re planning to stay a while,” Harlee said.
“We’ll see.” Sam stared out the window at the surrounding mountain range. “I’ve never lived in California before. It’s different. Freer.”
Freer than what? Colin wondered. To him, any place was freer than the six-by-eight-foot cage he’d lived in. Then again there were all kinds of prisons, he reckoned. Even gilded ones that looked like palaces.
“When would you like me to deliver everything?” Colin had totaled up a number and scrawled it on the list.
“I’m planning to paint first, so next weekend would be good.”
“The weekends I put in long hours on the McCreedy’s kitchen redo. I could probably bring the furniture over late Monday afternoon.” After he punched out on Sophie and Mariah’s house. “This price work for you?” Colin showed her the amount he’d tallied.
“That’ll work just fine,” Sam said.
“It sounds like you’re putting a lot of personal touches on the house.” Harlee glanced at the piece of paper Colin had just shown Sam and imperceptibly lifted her brows.
“I think it’ll be fun to decorate it. I took a few courses in New York.”
Harlee smiled and Colin knew that she thought Sam was on the dizzy side. But not in an unkind way. Harlee didn’t roll bitchy, mean, or intolerant. “So I hear that you plan on working at the Lumber Baron?”
“Yes. I’ll relieve Maddy when she goes on maternity leave. I’m also hoping to develop the inn’s event planning program. It’s such a charming place—they could be doing so much more than weddings.”
“Did you used to do event planning when you lived in Connecticut?” Harlee asked. Colin’s Brenda Starr was on the trail of a hot story.
“Not professionally, but I planned a fair amount of parties and events.”
“I’m sure Maddy will love having you there,” Harlee said.
“I hope so.” Sam rummaged through her purse and handed Colin a credit card. “You take plastic, right?”
“Yep. I’ve got to run it inside. Would you like to come in and have a cup of tea or something?”
Harlee looked at him like he was an alien.
“I’m fine,” Sam said, and continued to wander around the shop. “Don’t worry about me.”
Colin left the two women alone, went inside his office and ran Sam’s credit card. When he returned, Sam said her goodbyes and they finalized plans for the delivery.
“You’ll be okay driving in the snow?” Colin asked, eyeing her Mercedes hardtop convertible.
“I’m from the East Coast,” she said, and flashed a smile. “See you next Monday.”
He and Harlee stood there, watching until the glow of her taillights disappeared.
“Good sale,” Harlee said.
“Damn right.” He wiped snowflakes from her hair. “Let’s go inside.”
In the living room, Max lifted his head from the fleece doggie bed where he slept. Those mixed eyes looked at them curiously, then he plopped his snout onto his paws and resumed napping. Colin got to work building a fire.
“You have anything to make for dinner?” Harlee asked.
“I’m sure we can scrounge something up.” He waited to make sure his kindling caught, threw on a log, and followed Harlee into the kitchen.
He searched his refrigerator, then the freezer. “Chicken.” In the cabinet he pulled out a
bag of rice. “I’ve also got one of those salads in a bag.”
“I can work with that,” she said, and ran hot water over of the packages of boneless, skinless breasts. Scouting through the cupboards, she found a package of spaghetti and a jar of pasta sauce and put the rice back. “Chicken parmigiana.”
“Sounds good.” Before Harlee, he would’ve been satisfied with canned soup or chili. She’d sort of ruined his hobo palate.
“So what did you think?”
“Of what?” He started to set the table.
“Of Sam.” Harlee gave him a long, slanted look.
“She’s got good taste in furniture and deep pockets.”
“Yes, she does.” Harlee turned off the water and felt the breasts to make sure they were defrosted. She found two plastic sandwich bags in one of the drawers and a cooking mallet in the other, and pounded the crap out of the chicken.
“You making sure they’re dead?”
“Here.” She handed him the mallet. “Take over for me. Get them about this thin.” Harlee demonstrated a half inch with her fingers.
She grabbed a couple of bowls and found a bag of flour. “You have panko?” When he looked at her in question, she shook her head. “Bread crumbs?”
“Nope.”
Harlee went rummaging through his pantry and came out with a box of cornflakes. “This will have to do,” she said, and grabbed a couple of eggs from the fridge.
She poured the cornflakes into another baggie, took back the mallet and decimated them. She filled one bowl with the flour, the other with the cornflake crumbs, and a third with beaten egg and began dredging the chicken breasts. “Would you prepare a sauté pan with a little olive oil?”
“Sure.” He liked working with her in the kitchen this way. Oddly, the domesticity of it, especially Harlee in an apron, got him off.
She filled a pot with water and put a flame under it to boil. “Did you think she was pretty?”
He’d sort of lost the train of their Samantha conversation, but he was smart enough to know that this right here was dangerous territory. “I don’t know. Do you?”
She fixed him with an Are you an idiot? look. “Either you thought she was pretty or you didn’t, because you seemed extremely attentive. Like more attentive with her than I’ve seen you with any other woman.”
“Hell yeah, I was attentive. I get that way when people are writing me really big checks.”
“You invite them in for tea? Because last time I looked, you didn’t even own a tea bag until I brought a box over.”
“I was just trying to be polite, Harlee. The woman pretty much made my fiscal year.”
“I know that, Colin. But just tell me, did you find her attractive?”
“Why does it matter?”
“I’ve just never seen you that way. Will you be okay to drive in the snow?” she mimicked.
“Are you for real?” Colin couldn’t remember having a more moronic conversation. Not even with the brain-dead inmates in his cell block. “All right, if you want to know so badly, yeah, I thought she was pretty. The red hair. The green eyes. She reminded me of my sister, Fiona.”
Harlee browned the chicken in the sizzling oil. “I knew you were attracted.” He watched her flip the breasts, all the while making a real effort not to look at him. “Can you please get me a baking pan?” She turned on the oven.
“Like this?” He pulled a rectangular one out of a lower cabinet and waited for her to turn her attention on him.
“Mm-hmm,” she said, but still no eye contact.
He put the pan on the counter next to her. She laid the browned breasts inside and popped the pan in the oven. The water had come to a boil and Harlee dropped in the pasta, stirring it occasionally. She found a big bowl and got to work on the salad.
“Harlee, you can’t really be angry that Sam reminded me of my sister?”
“I’m not angry.” She made a big show of tossing the salad.
“Well, you’re acting like a jealous baby, when you have nothing to be jealous about.”
“I guess I’m feeling a little insecure.” Harlee put the salad bowl on the table and waited for the chicken and spaghetti to finish cooking while she heated the sauce. “It’s not like we’re a serious couple or anything, but I don’t want to sleep with you if you’re planning to sleep with other people.”
Colin took her by the arms as gently as he knew how, because he was losing his patience. “Can I ask how we got from Sam being attractive to me sleeping with other women? Maybe I’m slow, but I’m having trouble tracking this conversation.”
“I need to get the chicken out of the oven.” She pulled away from him, made up their plates and put them on the table. “Let’s just have a nice dinner, okay?”
“Not until we clear this up.”
Harlee let out an audible sigh. “I’d prefer we just forget about it. I’m embarrassed that I even brought it up since you’re perfectly entitled to find another woman attractive. There are a lot of men in this town who I find handsome, and it doesn’t mean anything. It’s just that you caught me off guard; you’re usually so reserved. That’s all.”
“Like who?” Colin wanted to know. “Griffin?”
“Sure. Griffin, Nate, Rico, Clay McCreedy, the police chief, even Wyatt to some extent. The point is, I’m not contemplating sleeping with any of them—only you. Look, this is stupid. It’s not like you were fawning over Sam or making a pass at her. You didn’t do anything wrong. She’s a beautiful woman and I could tell that you appreciated that and it bothered me because you’re typically not attuned to things like that. Let’s eat now and forget about it, please.”
“Come here.” He held his arms wide. When she wouldn’t come, he crooked his finger until Harlee came close enough so that he could pull her into his arms. “Sam is pretty, no doubt about it. But you are the most beautiful woman I’ve ever laid eyes on. From the first time I saw you hanging off the edge of the road in that ridiculous Mini Cooper, I thought you were a freaking mirage. That’s how impossibly beautiful you are. But I’m not so shallow as to be taken in by a woman’s looks. It’s what’s in here that counts.” He pressed his hand against her heart. “And Harlee, no one has you beat there either.”
She rested her forehead against his chest. “Are you feeding me a line, Colin Burke? Remember, I investigate smooth talkers like you for a living.”
“Harlee”—he lifted her chin—“I may be a lot of things, but a smooth talker isn’t one of them.” He covered her mouth with his and took what he wanted. All of it.
And hours later, with their dinners cold on the table, they fell asleep together in Colin’s big log bed.
Chapter 18
The following week, Harlee and Colin used their trucks to deliver Samantha’s furniture. Griffin also offered to help, lending his Range Rover to the cause. So the three vehicles, packed to the rooftops, caravanned down Grizzly Peak to Sierra Heights, where Sam waited to begin moving in.
Harlee looked forward to seeing what Sam had done to the place. A lot of people in Nugget were talking about how she was investing too much time and money painting and decorating a mere rental. But Harlee suspected that neither time nor money meant much to Sam, since she had plenty of both.
Luckily, the weather was cooperating. And with four sets of hands, Harlee hoped they could get all of Colin’s pieces inside the house and assembled before nightfall. Colin had been putting in long hours at Sophie and Mariah’s job site, but had managed to sneak away early enough to make good on his promise to deliver her purchases.
When they got there, the house had already been half furnished with comfy sofas, overstuffed leather chairs, a flat-screen TV, and lots of rugs and pictures on the walls. Sam had even managed to hang window treatments in the master bedroom, which looked custom-made.
“Wow.” Harlee turned in circles. “The place is gorgeous.”
“I love it,” Sam said, her mouth spreading into a wide smile. “I bought a mattress, so if we get the bed set up
tonight this will be my first time sleeping here.”
“You’ve been staying at the inn all this time?” Jeez, the woman’s pockets went even deeper than Harlee thought.
“Maddy gave me a discount, of course—now that I’m working there.”
Colin and Griffin carried pieces of the canopy part of the bed inside and went back out to get the rest. The women joined them, toting in dresser drawers and dining room chairs. Within an hour they had everything unloaded and Colin worked in the master suite, putting the new bed together, while Sam gave Harlee the rest of the tour. The large home, with its soaring cathedral ceilings and walls of glass, had magnificent views of the golf course and the surrounding mountains. It was a prime piece of property for Griff to tie up. But Harlee supposed renting it out served a better purpose financially than letting the house collect cobwebs.
She wondered if Griff might be interested in Sam, given that he was at loose ends with Lina. They seemed to get along great, but Griff had a knack for making friends and making everyone around him feel included.
She had definitely noticed that Colin had refrained from being too friendly to Sam, obviously taking Harlee’s feelings into consideration, which showed what a wonderful man he was. If Harlee wasn’t careful, she’d let herself fall in love with him. She was already more than halfway there.
While the three of them stood in the loft, where Griffin tried to talk Sam into putting a pool table, a knock sounded at the door.
“Can’t imagine who that could be,” Sam said, racing down the stairs. She and Griffin followed. Harlee wanted to check on Colin’s progress and see if he needed any help.
Nate stood at the threshold, looking mildly put out. “I couldn’t find the keys,” he said to Griffin.
“Damn, I forgot. They’re in the Range Rover. Hang on a sec.” Griffin jogged out the door.
Nate stood there, his hands shoved inside his pants pockets, craning his neck to get a look inside. “You painted?”
“Yes,” Sam said. “Would you care to come in?”
“Just for a few minutes,” he said, but Harlee could tell he was curious.