by Francis Ray
The smile started in her dark eyes, then spread to her face. She picked up a crisp slice of bacon. “I might.”
“Name your price and it’s yours,” he declared, feeling victory within his grasp.
Her smile wavered for a moment and he knew she was thinking about attracting men. “I haven’t had lobster and steak in a while.”
“What time should I expect you?” He’d give much more to see her keep that smile on her pretty face and be happy.
“If you’re going to remodel the bath, I probably should come over this morning,” she said thoughtfully. “I could see the space you have to work with, then offer suggestions.”
“I knew you wouldn’t let me down. Eat up, and then we can walk over.” He finished off his juice.
She laid her bacon aside. “We could leave no—”
“No. We’re not moving until your plate is empty,” he said adamantly. “You have to take better care of yourself.”
Her eyebrow rose at his statement, but she didn’t comment, just picked up her fork and began to eat.
Definitely stubborn, he thought, and she didn’t like being told what to do. He grinned.
Faith stood inside Brandon’s bathroom while he and Mr. Montgomery waited outside. To her immediate left was the white commode, the glass-front medicine cabinet, a seven-foot wall showing exposed pipes. In front was a small shower.
The men had stayed outside to let her have an unimpeded view of the bath and because it was too small for the three of them to fit in comfortably. She didn’t see how Brandon had stood such a cramped space for five years.
“What do you think?” Brandon asked.
She spoke without turning. “That I’m glad you’re not claustrophobic, and the redo is about thirty years past due.”
Mr. Montgomery chuckled. “Faith always was smart.”
Brandon might have disagreed if he hadn’t begun to grow accustomed to the spacious bath in his hotel room. In that he’d been truthful. “You’d agree because it means more money.”
Mr. Montgomery didn’t even try to deny it. “You’ll thank me and Faith when it’s finished.”
“Excuse me.” Coming out of the bath, she opened the closet door next to the bath. “You’re saved. You can take the connecting wall out and extend the bath.”
“Where will my clothes go?”
“In the new closet, which will be in the nook next to it, where you have a floor lamp that serves no purpose but which would look great—with a new lamp shade—next to the sofa.” She closed the door.
“I know you just wanted to do the bath, but if I were you I’d think about later replacing the kitchen cabinet doors. The solid cherry cabinets glazed chocolate are beautiful but plain. I’d recommend using the same solid cherry glazed chocolate in the bathroom with detailed doors to make the rooms flow. The glass medicine cabinet goes. Instead, I’d put a decorative mirror in its place with sconces on either side. For storage I suggest a hardwood cherry chest with a built-in ceramic sink. You could also use about five or six canned lights. The results would be striking.”
“I was thinking just tile and paint,” Brandon said, a bit worried.
“That, too. I’d consider wallpaper if I didn’t know how some men dislike it on principle.” She looked from the bathroom to the kitchen. “I’m thinking black and nickel to complement your kitchen countertop. Just a touch of creamy beige to tie in the cabinets.”
Brandon’s eyes grew wider with each statement.
She patted his cheek. “You’ll love it. I promise.”
“I guess,” he said slowly. “Mr. Montgomery, how long will it take to do all that?”
“The pipes came in. I can get a couple of helpers and tear out everything today. I know a carpenter who just finished a job and I can get him in here today if he’s still free. If what you want is in stock, and with my added crew and his, working together, we’re looking at five days,” Mr. Montgomery said.
“I could pick up a few samples and bring them tonight when we meet for dinner,” Faith offered. “But it would be best if you saw them in natural light.”
Brandon brushed his hand over his face. “You’re busy with the hotel. Maybe I should just get the pipes fixed and let it go.”
Faith took his arm and pulled him into the bathroom. “This is too small, Brandon.”
They stood inches apart. She could smell his woodsy cologne, feel the heat of his body. Each time she inhaled she drew his scent into her. The desire that was never far surfaced. Moistening her lips, she stepped out of the room. Brandon was slower to follow, his brows furrowed.
“What do you think, Mr. Montgomery?” she asked. She didn’t like the way Brandon was looking at her.
“You have the eye.” He put his hands on his lean hips. “But if you’re uncertain, Brandon, you can always ask your mother.”
“No,” Brandon said quickly. “And don’t you tell her.” He turned to Faith. “I’d appreciate it if you’d pick up those samples. Mr. Montgomery, I guess you can start tearing out that wall and call the carpenter. Should I expect more dust?”
“Afraid so. Might as well get started.” The older man reached into the closet and grabbed an armload of clothes.
Faith lifted her arms to do the same. “No. You’ve done enough.” Brandon reached past her and grabbed several pairs of jeans. “I’ll see you tonight.”
Faith could argue and waste time or visit the stores where she’d shopped for her own home. “I’ll let you know what I come up with. Bye.”
“Whatever you pick will be fine.” He went back for another load.
After one last look Faith left. She was going to help Brandon remodel his bath that he’d most likely share with the woman he would marry and she was going to do it with no regrets.
11
Brandon was going to be stood up again. It was almost closing time and Faith still hadn’t shown. Late that afternoon she’d called to say she had several samples for him to look over and would “try” to make it before closing. Since he didn’t see how you could mess up granite and nickel, he was going to choose whatever she’d picked out.
At least Mr. Montgomery was on schedule. Brandon’s bath was a shell; the joining wall connecting his closet was gone, as were his kitchen cabinet doors. The carpenter had been available and had started that morning.
Luckily, Brandon had been able to get Sierra’s maid to come over and give the place a thorough cleaning. Sierra, of course, had been able to tell him where to get a rolling clothes rack. Why anyone needed all those clothes she, Pierce, and Morgan had was beyond him.
“I’m locking the door, Brandon.” Michelle passed on the way to the front. A few diners remained.
“Give it a few minutes. I’m expecting someone.”
“You got it,” Michelle said as she veered toward the bar where Julian was emptying the till.
“Brandon, you have a phone call,” yelled Luis from the back of the restaurant.
“Transfer it to my cell.” Just as Brandon pulled his cell phone out, it rang. “Hello.”
“Brandon, I won’t be able to make it,” came Faith’s rushed voice.
“You all right?”
“No. An engagement party for fifty turned into seventy-five and of course the bride’s mother thought it would be a snap to accommodate them with food and specially prepared desserts.”
He’d had that happen to him more times than he cared to remember. “Is there anything I can do?”
“A number of things come to mind, but none of them legal.”
Brandon’s lips twitched. He eased into a chair and waved to the last of the diners as they made their way to the front door. “I can imagine.”
“Henrí is fit to be tied. He had to make twenty-five additional individual caramel-cranberry nut tarts. Luckily, the entrée was salmon à la Ballou and we had enough salmon on hand. The Garriety sisters came through with flowers for the additional tables. Dinner was an hour late. Things have settled, but I don’t want to leave until
the last of the party is out the door,” she said. “Mrs. Applegate is singing our praises now, but we both know how quickly her tune can change. Especially when I present her with the additional bill.”
That he did. “I understand. Don’t worry about the samples. I’ll go tomorrow before we open. I guess I’ll ask Sierra if she can go with me. She has great taste, but she doesn’t think of cost if she likes an item.”
“I have the samples. We can meet for breakfast in the morning.”
“Thanks, Faith. I owe you. What time?”
“Eight? I have a full day tomorrow.”
She had a full day every day and still took time for him. “Eight it is. See you then.”
“Night, Brandon.”
“Good night, Faith.” He disconnected the phone and went to lock the front door. He was on his way back when it hit him that, as usual, while Faith was making sure the engagement party went smoothly she probably hadn’t taken time to eat. Before he had taken two steps farther he knew he was going to fix that.
It was eleven fifty-three when Faith said goodbye to Mr. and Mrs. Applegate in the front lobby. She’d been on her feet five straight hours. All she wanted to do was take a long soak in the tub and go to bed.
She waved to the two night clerks at the front desk. She opened her mouth to bid them good night and yawned instead. “Excuse me. Good night.”
Tricia, a leggy blonde with big green eyes, came around the counter and handed her a note. “Mr. Grayson left this for you.”
From the awed expression on Tricia’s face, Brandon had made another conquest. “Thank you.” Continuing on, Faith removed the note from the sealed envelope:
Since you couldn’t come to the Red Cactus, I’m bringing it to you. Grilled shrimp and olive bread salad waiting. Conquistador Suite.
Brandon
He could be so sweet at times and so dense. But then he was a man.
Her lips curved; then she sobered. She’d heard her mother say those very words so many times while she was growing up. Faith had always believed her mother said them with loving affection. She’d been wrong.
Faith wondered if her mother thought the same thing of the movie producer she’d married. Or did she regret her decision to divorce a man to whom she was once his entire life? A divorce that was as painful for their children. Life offered no guarantees. Love didn’t always last. If the McBride curse had taught Faith one thing, it was that hard lesson.
She paused and looked at the light shining through the sheer curtains in Brandon’s room. You couldn’t tell your heart who to love or not to love. No matter what the future held, her love for Brandon wouldn’t change, wouldn’t fade. There wasn’t a shred of doubt in her mind.
Avoiding Brandon wouldn’t change how she felt. She only had to recall the pain in Blade’s tortured eyes to know she didn’t want to live with regrets as he did.
Suddenly she wasn’t so tired. Since she’d agreed to help Brandon with his bath, there wouldn’t be any way to avoid seeing him. And she was tired of trying. Going to her room, she refreshed her makeup, spritzed on perfume. Gathering up the shopping bag of samples for the bathroom, she was out the door. Her heart raced as she knocked on his door.
It opened almost immediately. Her breath snagged. Brandon wore black jeans and a T-shirt that delineated his roped muscles. Her hands itched to slowly peel the cotton material off and run her hands, then her mouth, over his hard chest.
“Hi. Glad you could come. Here, let me take those.” Lifting the bags, he stepped back.
Trying to get her mind off his body and on a safe topic, she stepped into his room. “Hi. You’re right. I didn’t get a chance to eat.”
“Thought so. Have a seat on the patio and prop your feet up. I’ll bring the food out.” He placed the bags on the coffee table, then went to the small refrigerator. Faded denim cupped his rear.
Faith’s gaze lingered on the impressive sight. Tight.
He easily rose with two covered bowls. “You’re supposed to be sitting down.”
“I’m fine.” She was taking every opportunity to look at and enjoy him. She wasn’t running away from her feelings any longer.
“It won’t take me but a second to toss this.” He added the shrimp to the salad ingredients and gently tossed. “Things go all right with the engagement party?”
“The father of the bride almost had a coronary when I presented him with the additional bill, but after giving his wife the eye, he handed me his credit card.”
Brandon filled a chilled salad bowl, placed it on a tray with two bottles of water chilling in the ice bucket, flatware, and a cloth napkin. “I can imagine. Patio or sofa?”
“Patio.” She definitely needed the air.
“Lead the way.”
Faith sighed inwardly in regret. She’d much rather he go first so she could get another view of his nice butt. She yawned. Perhaps sleepiness was making her horny.
Brandon nudged her with his shoulder to get her moving. “Get going before you fall asleep on your feet.”
She went to the patio, pleased and surprised to see a candle flickering, a flower from the garden in a bud vase. “This is nice.”
“You deserve more, but this was all I could come up with on short notice.” Setting the tray on the glass-topped table with one hand, he pulled out her chair with the other. “Sit and eat.”
She did as he requested. “This is delicious. I don’t usually eat this late.”
“I gathered as much.” He stretched out his long legs and linked his fingers over his flat abdomen. “When did you eat last?”
“Not since breakfast. You’d think, as little as I eat, I’d be smaller.”
He frowned. “You’re you.”
She stopped eating. “I beg your pardon?”
He sat up and braced his arms on the table. “I can’t imagine you looking any other way.”
Faith didn’t know if she should take his statement as a compliment or really start on the diet she’d been putting off for years.
“When I look at you, I see a caring, loving woman. I see a woman of substance.”
Her heart swelled. “Thank you.”
He twisted in his seat as if a bit embarrassed.
“Let’s go look at those samples.” Picking up her bowl, she went inside and sat on the floral sofa. “Please put everything on the table and I’ll go over it with you.”
Brandon sat beside her, his thigh brushing against hers, causing her skin to tingle. She wished she had thought to bring her water.
Setting the woven tray containing issues of the Santa Fean magazines aside, Brandon emptied the bags on the table. “I thought there would be more.”
She swallowed a bite of salad before speaking. “Too much becomes confusing. You want something sleek and uncluttered. Open the book on the tab and you’ll see the doors with the detailing. I checked with the carpenter. He can stain them to match your existing cabinets.”
She went on to explain the marble tile, point out pictures of the nickel fixtures, the showerhead, the mirror she’d picked out. “The effect will be stunning.”
He stared at her. “This took more than a few minutes.”
“I wanted it to be right.” She wouldn’t be selfish.
“Thank you.”
His eyes were midnight black and beautiful and much too tempting. Faith set her half-finished salad on the table. “I’m stuffed. I’d better go to my room before I fall asleep and you have to carry me.”
“I wouldn’t mind. I’ve done so in the past. Remember?”
She’d never forget. She’d been the envy of every girl at the sophomore dance. “It rained and I was afraid I’d get my new pink satin shoes dirty. You were gallant. My Prince Charming.”
“We had a lot of fun that night.”
“Yes, we did.” Just as they had at her junior and senior proms. But she’d never been able to get him to play the saxophone for her again. “You still play the sax?”
He frowned, then shook his head. “Na
h. I’d rather spend the time in the kitchen.”
“Pity.” She came to her feet and went to the door. “Night, Brandon, and thanks.”
“I’ll walk you to your door.”
Faith would have argued if she thought it would do any good. They were quiet on the short walk to her place. Opening the door, she turned. “Thanks again.”
“My pleasure.” He brushed back a strand of hair from her cheek. “I’ll see you at eight.”
Air fluttered over her lips. Longing swept through her. “You still want to meet for breakfast?”
“Yes. We can see the samples in natural light, as you suggested.”
“All right. I’ll see you in the morning.”
“Night.”
Faith thoroughly enjoyed herself at breakfast. Afterward she went with Brandon to his place. Mr. Montgomery and the carpenter, Mr. Radford, were waiting for them. She’d quickly gone over the samples she and Brandon had chosen and told them her vision for the bathroom, new closet, and kitchen cabinets.
The men nodded and made notes as they talked. Occasionally Faith would ask Brandon if he had any questions or objections, but he always deferred to her opinion. “I’m in your hands.” He rubbed his chin and looked around his room. “If you think of anything else that will update this place, let me know.”
“Well, there were a few things,” she began, and didn’t finish until ten minutes later.
Mr. Montgomery shook his gray head. “Never met a woman yet who wasn’t ready to decorate.”
“That’s because men are too busy with other things and it’s natural for a woman to want to beautify their surroundings,” Faith said. “Men can become complacent. They only notice if they aren’t pleased or if their routine is changed.” An imp of mischief beamed in her eyes. “Like a pipe bursting in a bathroom.”
“I don’t like change,” Brandon admitted.
“So I noticed,” Mr. Montgomery said deadpan.
Faith’s lips twitched. “I’d better be going. Mr. Montgomery, you have my cell if you or Mr. Radford have a question about anything. However, I’ve already checked and everything I want is in stock at the store I indicated.”