Frankie grabbed her arm. “No, Katrina, I’m sorry. I’m not upset I can’t fit into those wonderful clothes or shoes right now.”
Katrina dropped the bags on the floor and sat on the sofa. She leaned to take Frankie’s hands in hers, giving them a squeeze. She searched her friend’s eyes. “What’s up?”
“We’ve been friends for a long time, and we promised to never keep secrets from each other.” Frankie glanced to the wood floor. “I broke our promise, and I feel terrible.”
“I don’t understand.” Katrina frowned, wondering what her friend was hiding.
“I said I wouldn’t tell, but I have to.”
Katrina held a breath.
“Faith came to see me a few months before she passed away.”
Katrina released her breath and her friend’s hand, and then stood. Her thoughts went wild. “Gram visited you?”
Frankie squirmed in her chair. “She said she came to check on the house.”
“This makes no sense.” Katrina went to the kitchen and placed her dishes in the sink. She picked up the dishcloth then slapped it against the sink, needing an outlet for her irritation. “Gram hadn’t been well for several months. Why would she travel the long distance? What was so important here that she’d risk her health even more?”
“She seemed quite frail, but she didn’t come alone.” Her eyebrow rose. “Someone accompanied her.”
Gram with a companion? “Who?”
“An older man. I didn’t recognize him. He waited outside while she visited.”
Katrina narrowed her gaze. “Did he have gray hair, and was tall and distinguished-looking like he stepped out of a business magazine?”
Frankie wiggled to the edge of the chair. “Yes.”
So, Glen had accompanied Gram during her visit. Katrina took some comfort in knowing he hadn’t let her grandmother travel alone, but his neglect to inform Katrina didn’t sit well.
“I don’t think the house was your grandmother’s main concern.” Frankie rubbed her protruding belly. “Faith said you’d be coming home. She made me promise to watch out for you, which I would have done anyway. She was worried about your future.”
She frowned, unable to understand Gram’s actions. “Why? I inherited a successful business and have more money than I know what to do with.”
Frankie fiddled with the shoe strap, pushing it through its link. “I think her concerns were about your personal life. She didn’t want you to be alone.”
“I’m not, and she knew that.” Katrina pressed her fingers to her forehead, completely befuddled. “I can’t believe Gram did so much in those last few months, all behind my back.”
“How could she be so certain you’d come home?” Frankie placed the shoes on the floor.
“Gram requested in her will that I oversee the renovation of the house. She knew I wouldn’t deny her last request.” Why was Gram so insistent that Katrina return? Did she have an ulterior motive? And where did Nick fit in?
“She was sharp.”
“Most definitely.” Katrina smiled, and then returned to the sink to wash the dishes. She glanced over her shoulder. “Do you know anything about a connection Gram may have had to Nick?”
“Nick and your grandmother?”
Frankie’s wide eyes confirmed surprise. Katrina hoped her friend had more information to confess. “Gram specifically wanted his company for the renovation.”
“What? Why?”
Katrina put the clean and dry dishes in the cupboard above her head. “I don’t know. I hoped to get the answer from Nick, so I spent half the day searching for him all over town. I wanted to smooth things over after our physical encounter last night, and the awkward moment this morning.”
“Did you find him?” Frankie’s brows rose.
“Yes.”
“And—”
“What’s up with that man?” Katrina cut off her friend, exasperated by Nick’s mood. “He’s so rude and beyond difficult.”
“We can’t be talking about the same guy here, because Nick is a sweetheart. Between you and me, if I wasn’t a happily married woman, I’d give him a glance or two, that’s for sure.”
“Good gracious, Frankie.” Katrina shook a finger. “Shame on you.”
“Hey, just because I’m married doesn’t mean I’m blind. Nick is definitely worth staring at. He kind of resembles Johnny Depp a bit.” Frankie wiggled her eyebrows up and down.
“If you say so.” Shrugging, Katrina placed Frankie’s clean casserole dish on the table.
“You’re telling me you don’t find him attractive?”
No point lying. Katrina knew her friend would see through the lie. “I guess he is.”
“Katrina, what is wrong? Nick is a fine-looking man.”
Katrina turned her attention to the bags on the floor, avoiding having to respond to her friend’s comment. “You’ve been pregnant too long.”
Frankie nodded. “You could be right.”
Katrina dumped the shoe bags upside down and held up one pair at a time for Frankie’s inspection. A pair of black leather peep-toe ankle shoes, caramel sling-back sandals, cream-and-pink strappy cage pumps, and a classic sleek and sexy pair of red velvet pumps—all met Frankie’s grinning approval.
“So, what happened when you found Nick?”
Katrina’s attempt to sway her friend’s attention didn’t work. “We acted like professionals.” She lied. “Then he agreed to take the job.” Not a complete lie.
Frankie sat straight. “That’s great. I can see the two of you working together. You two have some serious chemistry.”
The shoes slipped from Katrina’s fingers. “Don’t go there, Frankie. We can barely stand to be around each other. Being civil and professional is difficult.”
“You’re no fun.” Frankie frowned, and then picked up the strappy heels. “I am sorry about not telling you sooner about your grandmother. Forgive me?”
“Only if you take those shoes home.” Katrina winked, handing her friend an empty bag for the shoes.
“You run a hard bargain, but for the sake of our friendship, I’ll take them.”
The crunch of tires on the driveway distracted them from the clothing bags. Frankie peeked through the living room window, while Katrina glanced out the kitchen window. A truck pulled up by the main house.
“Nick’s truck.” Frankie clapped her hands.
Katrina scowled at her friend, dismissing the tremor skittering up her spine. What was Nick doing here? They agreed he’d come by tomorrow morning. Okay, I didn’t give him much of a choice.
Frankie waddled to the kitchen. “Did he get out yet?”
“No, he’s just sitting there, staring at the house.”
She nudged Katrina’s arm and stepped closer to the window for a better view outside. “He doesn’t look happy. Someone must have had a bad day.”
Katrina pressed her lips together, thinking of the best possible way to explain the incident at the library.
“Katrina?” Frankie’s shoulders dropped. “Oh, no, what did you do?”
“Me? I didn’t do anything other than convince him to accept my renovation.” Unable to hold her friend’s gaze, she moved from the window. “And…there may have been a bit of drama at the library, but the commotion wasn’t my fault.” Katrina raised her thumb and index finger, holding them slightly apart. “I found out about his company’s financial problems, and I may have been a bit smug about my discovery.”
“No, you didn’t.” Frankie let the curtain fall when a truck door opened and slammed shut. “He’s coming.” She waddled to the living room and slung her purse over her shoulder. “I’d better go.”
“Oh, no, you don’t.”
Two raps sounded on the door.
“You’re staying put.” Inhaling a deep breath, Katrina opened the door.
Nick had changed from jeans and T-shirt to casual black pants and a gray cotton dress shirt, the sleeves rolled to his impressive biceps.
Wow! She inha
led another breath. “Mr. Porter, what brings you here? I wasn’t expecting you until tomorrow.”
“I had some free time this evening and thought I would get a head-start on inspecting the house. I thought best to let you know I was here.”
Katrina suppressed a smile.
“If this isn’t a good time”—he pointed to the car beside his truck—“I can return in the morning.”
“I…um…no, I mean yes, now is fine.”
Frankie cleared her throat behind Katrina.
Katrina opened the door wider and stepped back to join her friend. “Frankie, Mr. Porter stopped by to have a look at the house.”
“So, I heard. Hi, Nick, why don’t you come in?”
“Where are my manners?” Katrina sighed. “Of course, please come in.”
Nick entered and greeted Frankie in a hug.
Katrina inhaled his fresh musky scent.
“Frankie, I thought that was your car outside.” He pointed to the shoes and bags of clothes on the sofa. “You ladies are obviously busy. I’ll just head over to the house.”
“I brought Katrina some dinner, and we got to chatting, but I really must be going.”
Katrina glared at Frankie, willing her to stay.
“Don’t leave because of me.” Nick helped Frankie into her jacket, slipping it over her shoulders.
“Thomas will need rescuing.” Frankie grabbed the bag with her new shoes. “Thank you.” She held up the bag. “Call me tomorrow. And Nick, I owe you lunch. Come by anytime.”
Katrina and Nick followed Frankie to the porch.
“You two have fun.” Frankie wiggled into her car and waved as she drove away.
After her friend left, the air went thick in an awkward silence.
“Shall we?” Nick nodded toward the house.
“You go ahead. I’ll meet there you in a moment. I’ll scoot into the cabin to grab some shoes.”
Nick glanced down at her bare toes.
His brief smile made her cheeks warm. Back inside the cabin, Katrina cut the price tag off the caramel sling-back sandals and slipped them on her feet. They were more appropriate for walking around the house than the stilettos she had on earlier. She quickly checked her hair and makeup in the living room mirror, combing fingers through her hair.
She entered the main house, finding Nick in almost the same position he had been the previous night.
He held a clipboard in one hand and a pencil in the other. Nick turned at the sound of her shoes scuffing across the rough wood floor. “You don’t have a weapon behind you?”
Katrina snickered and waved her hands in the air. “I left the bat outside this evening.”
He held out a set of keys. “I should give these back.”
Katrina pushed the keys into his hand. A spark flared through her fingers at the connection to his. “Um, no, you keep them, that way you can come and go.”
“Right, no need to pester you each time I’m here.” His attention returned to his notes.
Nick’s forced politeness had disappeared and a hint of sarcasm laced his words. “That’s not what I meant.” She crossed her arms over her chest. “I meant, so you and your crew could come and go without the inconvenience of having to search for me.”
He nodded, dropped the keys in his pants pocket, and continued his inspection.
Katrina followed Nick, quiet as a mouse behind him. He irritated the heck out of her, yet she couldn’t help but gaze at the muscles that rippled under his sleeve as he moved his arm to take a measurement, or his clenched jaw as he studied a beam at the ceiling. Whenever she’d see him turn, she’d glance in another direction, pretending to do her own survey of the house. She wondered what it would feel like to glide her fingers through his brown hair.
“What’s upstairs?”
At the sound of his voice, echoing louder through the empty house, Katrina jumped. “Two bedrooms, a closet, and a bathroom.”
“Would you mind if I went up there?”
“Of course not.” She flicked her hand toward the stairs and followed.
Nick went into the first room, inspecting and making notes.
Katrina smiled when they entered her childhood bedroom. Running her fingertips along the wall, she remembered her bed and dresser to the left, two bookcases and a desk to the right, and a wall plastered in teenage posters.
“Happy memories?”
“Yes, this was my room.” When she approached the second bedroom, Katrina hesitated in the doorway.
Standing in the middle of the room, he glanced over his shoulder. “Everything okay?”
“This is…was my parents’ room.” Tears blurred her gaze. She couldn’t step in the room. Inhaling deeply, she closed her eyes. Her heart pounded and she swallowed hard. Did she really think this would be a piece of cake? That she could pretend the loss of her parents didn’t still ache in her heart? “I’ll wait downstairs.”
****
Nick cursed under his breath. Thomas had told him about Katrina’s parents, and about her recently deceased grandmother. Katrina’s young life had been grief filled, and here he was shoving the heartache of her parents in her face by prancing in their room as if its space was nothing more than an empty room. He should have been more sensitive.
He rushed down the stairs, finding her in the living room.
She stared at the blank wall where a family photograph may have once hung.
“I’m sorry. Thomas told me about your family. I shouldn’t be dragging you around the house.”
“My sorrow is not your fault.” She wiped her eyes with the back of her hand. “You had no way of knowing which room belonged to my parents. Being here is a lot tougher than I thought.”
“Being home must be difficult.” He resisted the urge to comfort her in his arms.
“I haven’t been here since—” She placed a hand over her mouth. “I went to live with my grandmother right after the service. This is my first time back in twelve years.”
Nick touched her arm. A frenzied quiver darted through his fingers and trailed a path to the back of his neck. “If this is too much, I can handle everything. You don’t have to step a foot in here again.”
Again, she wiped her damp eyes. “Thank you, but I need to be here. I should have returned a long time ago. I just have to take one step at a time.”
“That’s understandable. If there’s anything I can do to help, please let me know.”
Her cheeks flushed.
He could grow accustomed to seeing this sensitive side of Katrina, even if he concentrated much easier when they were arguing. “Well, I’ve completed the inside inspection.” He nudged the pencil behind his ear and slipped the clipboard under his arm. “I’ll check the foundation tomorrow. I hope you’re not a light sleeper.”
She frowned. “I am, why?”
“I was hoping to start demolition on the—”
Katrina held up her hand. “Demolition?”
“Don’t worry. I’m not planning on knocking down your house.” He chuckled. “The roof needs to be replaced, and the wood shingles have to go.”
“You’re starting all that tomorrow?” Her brown eyes shot wide.
“Tomorrow not good?”
“No…I mean, of course. But isn’t your crew busy at the library?”
“As you already know, two of my projects wrapped up today. I thought you were in a rush to get this renovation started?” He bit his tongue, angered by his arrogant flippant statement.
“I am. My apologies. You’re in charge.” Tucking her chin toward her chest, Katrina walked outside.
The evening sky had transformed into bright orange hues. White, brush stroked clouds played in the light, adding to the scale of beauty.
“Thank you, Mr. Porter.” She held out her hand.
He enjoyed the way she said his name, her heavy accent tickling his ears. “I know you’re all about business, Ms. Witherspoon, but I think we could drop the formality and go by Nick and Katrina.” He took her hand in h
is and only held it for a moment before releasing. “I’ll start my preliminary designs tonight and if you have any time free tomorrow, we can review my notes and any ideas you might have.”
“My ideas?”
“On how you want the house to look.”
“What’s wrong with the house?” Her brows furrowed as her stare darted from roof to foundation.
“Nothing, just an old design and should be updated to modern appeal. I assume you want a quick sale, but for that to happen, changes are required.”
She shrugged, nibbling her bottom lip.
Nick’s pulse stuttered. He tore his gaze from her lips. “If you’re uncomfortable, just say so and we’ll stick to the basics.”
“No, you’re right, a complete renovation.”
Her forced smiled tugged his emotions. “I’ll see you tomorrow.” Nick walked her to the cabin. “Good night, Katrina.”
“Good night, Nick.” She hesitated and then went inside.
Nick opened his truck door and tossed the clipboard on the seat. He climbed in and started the engine.
Their encounter almost went smoothly, other than her tears. At least they hadn’t fought and no one got hurt. She was a lot like her grandmother, strong and independent. This renovation would take a lot from Katrina, but he was certain tonight would be the last time she’d let down her guard and show her vulnerability.
By the end of this renovation, he could almost see them as friends, and yet ignored the voice in his head wanting to get to know her better.
The moon’s luminous glow poured over the small house as the lights went out inside the cabin.
Nick shifted the truck into Reverse. He needed to leave. His loneliness was thicker than normal. He couldn’t afford to get involved with a woman whose beauty stole his breath. His professional and personal lives were complicated enough. Katrina may have forced him into a business relationship, but he wouldn’t again be swayed by a woman, no matter how much she made his pulse stutter.
Chapter Five
At morning’s first light, Katrina stepped into her running shoes and greeted the rising sun. Just because she wasn’t in Paris didn’t mean she should stop her routine. Every morning, she’d jog for at least an hour to clear her mind and prepare for the business day ahead. Gram would lecture her, saying Katrina was skinny enough, but for Katrina, jogging wasn’t about weight loss, the exercise was therapy. Nothing made her feel more at peace than the rush of pace, the fresh air, and listening to her favorite music.
Twist Of Faith Page 5