He walked in the room and had to do a double take. While the little he’d seen of the house remained period specific, the kitchen resembled something out of a 1980s TV sitcom, right down to the yellow countertop and linoleum-covered floor.
“I’m not sure what the previous owners were thinking when they decorated this room. I hate it. It’s my least favorite room in the house.”
Dakota understood why too. If he owned the place, the kitchen would be first on his list of areas to renovate.
“At least you have cabinets on the walls. I didn’t have any when I moved in. The previous owners pulled them all out before they left.”
Angie opened the door on the mustard-yellow refrigerator and reached in for the blueberry pie on the top shelf. “Sounds like a bitchy thing to do.” She set the dessert down on the table before filling a teakettle with water. “If the interior designer I hired ever gets things right, this will be one of the first rooms they tackle. Right after the master bathroom, because I need a shower.”
She might not agree with it, but he saw no harm in sharing his opinion. “I haven’t seen the rest of the house, but so far only this room needs an overhaul.”
He watched her move from the stove to the cabinets on the opposite wall. Each stride was fluid and graceful, reminding him of countless ballerinas he’d watched when his older sister had danced with the Phoenix Ballet Company.
“I agree, and that’s the problem. Except for in this room and the master bath, I don’t want to destroy what’s already here. But the designer’s vision for the place includes removing the built-in bookcases and covering up the fireplaces. We’re meeting again next week.” Cutting into the pie, she handed him a large slice before cutting a second, much smaller one. “Hopefully I’ll like what he comes up with next. I’d like things done or at least almost done before my mom comes in October. She’s staying with me instead of Mia and Sean.”
Dakota imagined the change in plans thrilled his friend. “How long is she staying?”
“Too long.”
He couldn’t help but laugh. She sounded about as pleased to have her mom coming as Sean had the other night. “Difficult person to live with?”
“You could say that. Between you and me, I’d rather have her stay somewhere else. But at least if she’s here with me, it’ll be better for Mia and Sean. If it was my dad, he could move in with me and I wouldn’t mind.”
Both his parents had been strict, and he’d been anxious to live on his own, but he had an excellent relationship with them. It didn’t sound like that was the case between Angie and her mom.
“Is your dad coming too?” Sean hadn’t mentioned whether his father-in-law was visiting or not, and he hadn’t asked. When it came to his friend’s in-laws, it was better not to bring them up.
“Yes, but not for long. He’s not a big fan of being away from home or work, so he’ll only be here a week. Mom plans to stay for two.” An emotion bordering on dread filled her voice. “But she might decide to stay longer. She did when she visited right after Natalie was born. According to Mia, things got pretty tense between Mom and Sean, and he considered staying at the Victorian Rose until she left.”
He remembered the visit back in June. Sean had spent some extra time at Dakota’s house helping him finish the upstairs master bathroom even though Dakota could’ve handled it himself.
Leaving the table, Angie removed the whistling teapot from the stove and poured the boiling water into two mugs. “Do you want milk or sugar for your tea?”
“Black is good.”
She handed him a mug before adding a generous splash of milk to her tea. “Do your parents visit a lot?”
“No. I usually fly out to Arizona instead. Mom will fly but hates doing it. I’ve never seen anyone more nervous on a plane than her. My brother usually flies home to visit for the same reason, and my sister only lives a couple of hours away from my parents.”
“Are they older or younger?”
“Both older.”
Angie folded her hands on the table and leaned forward. “Let me guess, they never let you forget it either.”
Truer words had never been spoken. “Bill used to remind me every chance he got. Anne was better, but she sometimes acted as if she was my mother.”
“Sounds like they’d both get along well with Avery.” She smiled, and the two dimples he’d noticed days ago appeared.
Other than at Sean and Mia’s wedding, he’d never seen Avery. As far as he knew, she hadn’t visited town since the wedding.
“Avery’s three years older than Mia and five years older than me. And she never used to let us forget it.”
After a second slice of pie and several cookies, they remained sitting at the kitchen table sharing more details about their families.
“Your mom gave you each a name that started with the letter A so you’d all have the same initials as her?” He didn’t get confused easily, but he felt like he was missing a piece of a puzzle right now. “Isn’t your mom’s name Lynn?” When he wasn’t calling her a less-than-complimentary name, Sean called his mother-in-law Lynn.
Finishing her tea, Angie set the mug back down. “It’s what everyone calls her, but her name is really Agatha. She hates it and has always gone by her middle name.”
Well, the name was a little old-fashioned, and it wouldn’t be a name he’d pick for a daughter if he ever had one. “And Lynn is her middle name.”
“Yep. And for some crazy reason, she wanted all her children to have the same initials as her. I’m Angelina Lori, Mia’s full name is Amelia Linette, and Avery’s middle name is Lydia.”
He wouldn’t call it crazy, but naming your children so they had the same initials as you was unique. “My mom teaches English literature, and she named my brother and sister after characters from two of her favorite books. She even spelled my sister’s name with an e at the end because it was how the character in Anne of Green Gables insisted on spelling it.”
“And what book did she use to name your brother?”
“Pride and Prejudice.” A book he’d never read, but he had suffered through two different movie versions.
“I’ve never read it, but I saw the movie. I don’t remember a character named Bill or even William.”
She wasn’t wrong. “Technically the character’s name is Fitzwilliam. According to my brother’s birth certificate, his name is Fitzwilliam. But he’s always gone by either William or Bill.” He’d never blamed his brother either. Fitzwilliam wasn’t a name you heard every day anymore, and he wouldn’t want it.
“She didn’t name you after a favorite character?”
He’d gotten the same question from others when they learned his siblings were named after characters from novels. “She planned to. They thought they were having a girl, and Mom decided on Scarlet.”
“Gone With The Wind fan?”
“Big time.” His mom read the book every summer. He’d tried it once to humor her but didn’t get past the first few chapters. “Mom and Dad weren’t expecting me for another month, so my parents took my brother and sister camping. They were in South Dakota visiting Mount Rushmore when Mom went into labor.” He’d heard the story so many times it was like he’d experienced it. “When it turned out I was a boy and not the girl they were expecting, they needed to come up with a new name. Mom suggested Dakota as a way to remember the trip.”
“I guess it’s a good thing they weren’t camping in Rhode Island or Oregon when your mom went into labor.”
“True, but Texas or Montana might have been okay.”
She drummed her fingertips against the table. Unlike his fingers, they were long and slender with well-manicured fingernails. “Tex Smith does have a nice ring to it.”
The same hand he’d held over an hour ago reached for her plate. Unlike his, it contained half of her second slice of pie. “I really want to try the fudge, but I can’t eat anything else.” She carried both the plate and her mug to the counter.
Collecting his plate and
empty mug, he brought them over to her. “If you’d mentioned the fudge earlier, I would’ve skipped the cookies.”
“I didn’t mention it earlier so you’d have to come back over if you want to try it.”
“Really?”
She feigned an innocent expression and shrugged. “What can I say? I like to plan ahead.”
They might not have the same taste in food, but in that regard they were similar. He’d started running through possibilities for other evenings out the moment they left the comedy club. “Does that mean you have plans for tomorrow night?”
“Depends. Are you free?”
He didn’t feel any urgent need to go on one, but when the group walked by, she’d seemed interested in the ghost tour. “I thought I’d go on a ghost tour in Salem. When I get home, I can make the reservation for two instead of one if you’re interested.”
“I’ll bring the fudge along with us so we have something to snack on.” She added the pie plates to the ancient dishwasher and stepped closer to him. “Is it too late, or do you still want a tour of the house?” Reaching out, she slipped her fingertips down his forearm, leaving a trail of excited nerve endings behind before reaching for his hand.
Too late? He felt more awake now than when he’d climbed out of bed this morning. “It’s not even close to my bedtime.”
In her heels they were the same height, and if he took a single step closer, he’d be able to kiss her. At that moment, he wanted to kiss her more than he wanted to take another breath. He forced his feet and his lips to stay exactly where they were though.
Her feet seemed to have other ideas. With a single step, she eliminated whatever space existed between them and her body brushed against his.
Releasing his hands, she put her arms over his shoulders and moved her face closer to his. “Good.”
Angie’s lips came down on his before his brain finished giving his lips the okay to kiss her. And then for the next few seconds, his brain didn’t think at all.
If he’d had the heart rate monitor he wore when he ran, it would’ve been in the red zone by the time she ended their kiss.
“I’ve wanted to do that since I opened the door,” she admitted.
One thing he could say about Angie, she wasn’t shy about making the first move. He didn’t know many women like that, and he found it sexy as hell.
Angie took a step away from him. “I don’t want to keep you up past your bedtime. Let’s get the tour in.”
She kept her hand wrapped around his as she led him from one room to the next on the first floor and then up the front staircase. Although holding hands was an innocent gesture, one he’d experienced countless times before, tonight it was doing some crazy things to his insides. Things he hadn’t experienced in a damn long time.
“I saved this one for last.”
Bigger than the first two rooms she’d showed him upstairs, this one remained empty as well. And like in its counterparts, a large fireplace took up a decent amount of one wall. However, unlike the other two, this one contained narrow built-in bookcases on either side of it. Although a nice room, he saw no reason she’d want to save it for last.
“At first, I thought these were built-in bookcases like the ones downstairs in the library.” Angie moved them closer to the fireplace. “But only that one is.” She pointed to the one on the left side of the fireplace before releasing his hand. With a tug, she pulled the other one open like a door, revealing the space and ladder behind it. “The ladder leads up to a small room in the attic.”
He’d toured houses before with secret hidden rooms, although in some cases calling them rooms was misleading. Some were more like crawl spaces. Regardless of size, people had used them for everything from hiding runaway slaves prior to the Civil War to hiding liquor during Prohibition.
“Any idea what it was used for?”
“No, the only thing I found up there was some old Christmas wrapping paper, so at least someone who lived here hid their presents up there. Mia thinks there might be some information about the house at the town’s historical society. I need to make an appointment to visit.”
“Talk about a great place to stash presents from your kids so they don’t find them.”
“Or hide. I wouldn’t want to spend a lot of time up there, especially since it doesn’t have any windows, but if a person needed to hide, it’d be a great spot.”
Angie closed the door, and once again it appeared as though two simple bookcases flanked the fireplace. Unless someone knew the truth, no one would ever think to try to move either of them.
Except for the room with the closed door, the one that must be Angie’s bedroom since none of the other rooms up here contained any furniture, she’d taken him through all the rooms on the second floor. As much as he hated to admit it, that meant their evening together had come to an end.
“Do you want me to make the reservations for tomorrow, or do you want to handle it?” Earlier he’d offered, but he wanted to make sure she was still okay with it. Several companies offered ghost tours. Although they were probably all similar, one might appeal more to Angie than another, and since she was the one who wanted to go, she might want to choose.
She considered his comment before answering. “I’ll take care of it. Mia really enjoyed the one she went on, so I’ll check with her in the morning and ask her which one it was. After I make the reservations, I’ll call you.”
“Sounds like a plan.” In the kitchen, she’d kissed him. Now, he took the initiative. He brushed his thumb across her jaw before touching his lips to hers.
Although intended to be a simple goodnight kiss, it sent his stomach into a tailspin and erased almost all intelligent thought from his head. Somehow he managed to grab on to the last thread of it, and he pulled back.
“See you tomorrow.”
Angie moved several steps back before finally releasing his left hand. “Looking forward to it.”
Chapter Six
Shane never called in sick. Even when he’d had the flu over the winter, he’d gone to work and attended classes. Yesterday, for the first time since being hired by Door2Door Express, he’d done just that, because the sooner he found them a place, the sooner they could start their life together.
He’d emailed the real estate agent a list of the places he wanted to see, and she’d also found a few she thought might interest him. They’d met at her office in Conway and spent the morning visiting both homes for sale as well as locations for rent. While some had potential, only one had been exactly what he wanted. And unfortunately that one was just out of his price range. Although the agent admitted he could make a lower offer, she doubted the owners would accept anything other than the asking price, especially since she was bringing in two other parties to look at it this weekend alone.
After looking at each location and making a quick stop back at the real estate agent’s office, he’d checked into one of the local chain motels in the area, frustrated but not defeated. He’d just started the search. Sure, he’d hoped to find the ideal house this weekend and make an offer, but he wasn’t stupid. Sometimes it took a few tries before you found the right one. It’d even taken him two weeks to find his current apartment when he’d first moved out of his mother’s house, and he hadn’t been all that particular then. Since this would be the house where he and Angie spent the rest of their lives and raised their children, it had to be perfect. Perfect didn’t happen overnight; it took time and patience. And patience was something he’d always had an abundance of.
Today, as much as he’d rather check out some more properties, he returned to North Salem. Door2Door Express provided him with paid sick leave, but Masterson’s did not. If he missed his shift at the restaurant, his income this month would be lower, which meant less money into his savings account for their new house.
Several children were at the playground on the town common as he passed by. He’d never spent much time there as a kid. Mom refused to let him go by himself, and she’d never seemed to hav
e the time to take him over. Forget about his father. He’d spent as much time away from town as possible even before the divorce. After the divorce, he moved out of North Salem and never showed his face again. When he and Angie had kids, he’d make sure they had their own private playground in the backyard. Their children’s playground would have not only swings and a slide but also a climbing wall and a fireman’s pole. Maybe he’d build them a tree house too.
Parking in the lot behind his apartment building, he closed his eyes. Off in the distance, he saw the top of Mount Washington, and a few feet ahead of him stood a swing set complete with two slides and a fireman’s pole. A pregnant Angie stood pushing a young girl with long dark hair on a swing. With each push, the little girl laughed and urged Angie to push her higher.
Whack. The happy family image disappeared, and Shane’s eyes opened to find Chandler, his neighbor from across the hall, knocking on the car window. The same age, they’d attended elementary and middle school together. Back then they hadn’t hung out. Since his move back to town, they’d developed a friendly relationship and would occasionally grab a beer together or watch a ball game.
Grabbing his cell phone and keys, Shane stepped out of the car. “Hey, what’s up?”
“Not much. Heading into work.” A part-time sales representative for a medical supply company, Chandler worked as a personal trainer on the weekends at a nearby gym. “I stopped by last night to see if you wanted to watch the game, but you weren’t around.”
Friend or not, he wasn’t going to share with Chandler his plans to buy a house and move. “Went to my mom’s for dinner. She’d been after me for weeks to visit. Finally gave in to shut her up.”
“You missed a hell of a game. If you’re interested, I’m meeting Gary and Jon at O’Leary’s for some pool around six. Join us.”
They’d still be there long after his shift at the restaurant ended, but he had more important things to do tonight. “I’ll keep it in mind.”
When Love Strikes (Love On The North Shore Book 6) Page 6