“That’s nice to hear,” Jen said with a small smile. “Do you...have that?”
“A girlfriend, you mean?” he asked.
She nodded, her cheeks pinking a little more than they already were in the cold.
“No girlfriend,” he said. “I’m tough to nail down.”
She smiled at that. “Just making sure I won’t have any explaining to do.”
“You’re safe.” He shot her a grin.
“You know, I wouldn’t undo the marriage,” Jen said, “because it created Drew, and he’s the best kid ever. But I should have left Sam earlier. Being with him sucked me dry.”
“That’s how I felt, too, that first Christmas,” he replied. “Everyone thought I’d be regretting it—wanting to beg Shari to take me back. But I really was past the point of no return.” He paused, his mind returning to this daughter. “How old were you when you got married?”
“Twenty-four,” she said. “Young. Not that twenty-four is too young for everyone, but it was for me.”
He nodded. “Yeah...” Amelia was only twenty-three.
“Does it get easier being alone?” she asked.
Their boots crunched over the snowy sidewalk, and he liked the sound of their synchronized footsteps.
“You get used to it,” he replied, and when she met his gaze, he felt a smile tickle his lips. What was it about her that made him want to be the tough guy—the one who had it all together? He wasn’t either of those things, truthfully. He had feelings—they just lay deep beneath layers of male pride and social conditioning.
“Besides,” he added. “I’ve got Goldie. She’s good company.”
“I should get a cat,” Jen said. “Or a parrot. I’ve always wanted a parrot that I could teach to talk.”
“I knew a guy who had a swearing parrot,” Nick said.
“That might not fit into an art gallery,” she said with a short laugh. “And I’m in no hurry to broaden Drew’s naughty vocabulary.”
Nick laughed at that. “But pets do help. They’re...soothing.”
“And they get you active,” she said. “Well, dogs do, at least.”
More than active. Sometimes they could drop a man in front of his pretty neighbor on a beautiful winter night.
When they got to the intersection, he could see all the way down the long, sloping drive that led to downtown Mountain Springs. The downtown core was lit up with Christmas lights, the tall tree glowed from the center of a park and they could see people walking around. The mountainside behind them was lit, too, with the chairlift from one of the ski slopes.
“I love this view,” he murmured. “Every night I walk out this way after dark, just to see the lights.”
“The tourists have no idea that real people live real lives here,” Jen said softly.
He glanced down at her. “They’re on vacation, escaping their own real lives.”
“I suppose.” She chuckled. “And they do sustain our economy. I’m going to be hoping to lure them up to an art gallery soon enough.”
They turned back the way they’d come and started walking once more. She fell into step beside him, and it felt good to have her there—comforting. But he didn’t want that—not really. Jen was the type who naturally sided with Shari and Chris in the spoiling of his daughter...not what he needed! Beautiful and vulnerable or not, she was the wrong type.
A chill breeze whipped through the spruce trees bringing a sprinkling of snow with it, and they both dropped their heads against the sudden driving cold. Jen stepped closer to him, pressing her arm against his. Was it instinct that made him want to put an arm around her? He had to stop himself from following through on it. Whatever comfort he felt with her couldn’t be mistaken for something deeper.
Goldie trotted on ahead, seemingly oblivious to the cold wind, and when she stopped to sniff that same bush again, he tugged on her leash.
“Come on, Goldie,” he called. “We’re going home.”
The dog complied and caught up with them. He should get back inside, anyway. Amelia was probably finished chatting with her mom, and he’d get another chance to try and chip through his daughter’s shell.
When they were in front of Jen’s house, she looked up at him with a smile. Her cheeks were pink from the cold, as was the tip of her nose.
“Thanks for the walk,” she said.
“Yeah.” He nodded. “I’ll see you in the morning—we need to start tearing out your counter.”
“You know where to find me,” she said, and then she turned and headed back up her drive toward the house with the lights shining cozily out of those lead-paned windows.
Funny to think of that old mansion being occupied by a woman like her...
Nick crossed the street, Goldie in the lead. When he opened the front door, she bounded inside, her nails clicking and sliding against the tiled floor.
“I’m back!” Nick called, and he shut the door behind him. “Goldie, come here. We have to wipe off your paws. Goldie!”
She came back, and he wiped her snowy paws with a cloth he had set aside for that very reason. When he rose to his feet, he saw his daughter coming down the stairs, dressed in a pair of snug-fitting jeans, a black turtleneck and a slim-fitting puffer coat. Her makeup was done, and she was wearing diamond studs in her ears.
“Are you going somewhere?” he asked.
“Out with some friends,” she said.
“I was hoping we could have the evening together,” he said.
“Dad, you told me when we arranged this that you’d be working. You can’t exactly get hurt feelings when I make a few plans of my own.”
“I’m not hurt,” he said irritably.
Amelia arched an eyebrow at him, and he felt that old conflicting feeling of wanting to give her a lecture and knowing he was beat.
“Who are you going out with?” he asked.
“Do you ever know who I’m out with when I’m at school?” she asked, shaking her head.
“Humor me, Amelia,” he said with a sigh.
“Jane Tripp,” she replied. “We’re meeting up with some other people who are home for the holidays, too.”
“Where?” he asked.
“Seriously?” Amelia demanded. “Dad, I’m twenty-three! You don’t get to give me the third degree when I go out for an evening.”
“Right.” He sighed. “Just be safe.”
“I always am.” She gave him a quirky little smile. “Thanks to you, I’m a karate blue belt. I’m pretty sure I can handle myself.”
Yeah, that was one thing he’d given her—and insisted on paying for. And for what it was worth, Amelia had worked her tail off for it. One day when she beat the crap out of some handsy guy, he wanted her to be able to say it was because of him, not Chris.
“Have a good night. Call me if you need anything,” he said.
Some car headlights swung up the drive, and Amelia shot him a sweet smile.
“Good night, Daddy. Don’t wait up.”
That was a line she’d never used on him before, but it was very likely she’d used it on Chris. She called Chris Dad, too.
Amelia headed out, the door closing solidly behind her, and he looked out the window next to the door to see her hop into the front seat. The momentary light inside the car showed another young woman, and then the door shut and the car started to back out.
She’d be fine. She always had been. It wasn’t that he was really worried about her safety tonight, although he always worried a little bit. Hence the karate lessons.
But Amelia was smart...and she was right about him not having the right to be offended. She’d made plans—so had he, for the most part.
Connecting with his daughter was going to take more than a little bit of Christmas cheer and a couple of weeks coexisting in the same house.
He looked toward the couch—Goldie had alre
ady hopped up onto her favorite spot, and she looked over at Nick hopefully.
“Yeah, yeah,” he muttered. He’d flick through the channels and he and Goldie would while away a winter evening. It could be worse. He could be a guy with a swearing parrot. Goldie suited him better.
CHAPTER FIVE
JEN WOKE UP slowly the next morning, stretching under the warm duvet and blinking her eyes open in the dim morning light. She lay there for a moment, inhaling the old-house smell, musty and a little sweet, like antique books. She looked around the room, boxes stacked on one side, and her own familiar dresser across from her bed, some framed pictures she’d already unpacked on top.
One was of her parents on their wedding day—two teenagers in the seventies looking excited and a little disheveled. Apparently, their wedding day had been a downpour.
The other two photos were of Drew—one when he was a baby and crying, stretching out his arms toward her. He’d been a fussy, clingy baby, and she’d been exhausted during those early years. But somehow, now that it was in the past, she could smile at the memory of her baby who wanted her and only her. Sam had stayed busy, but when he held Drew and the boy had cried for her, he’d taken it personally. She hadn’t known how to help Sam through that. Was this part of why Sam had pulled away from the both of them, preferring his professional accomplishments to time with his family?
The last photo was from Drew’s first day of kindergarten—standing there grinning so proudly with a backpack that was almost as big as he was. When she dropped him off at the private school she and Sam had chosen, he’d been the child to cry the loudest, so his bravery hadn’t exactly lasted. And neither had hers. She’d cried on that drive home, leaving him at school for his first day. But still, she loved that picture of him.
And now he was twelve and tall and needing his father. She suspected that Sam needed Drew just as much, even though he didn’t know how to express it. Jen wasn’t going to be the most important one in Drew’s world anymore. Those days were past—which was how these things worked if you did it right. He was growing up to be a mature, responsible, sweet kid who was forging a solid relationship with his dad. And she couldn’t be prouder.
It was a little lonesome, though.
She tossed back the covers and shivered, reaching for her bathrobe. It was time to start the day. Nick would be here in a couple of hours, and the kitchen would start taking shape.
* * *
TWO HOURS LATER Jen was dressed in a pair of jeans and a long-sleeved ribbed tee that fit close enough that it wouldn’t be snagging anything while she worked today. When Nick knocked on the door, she opened it with a smile.
Nick came inside, put down his tool bag and peeled off his coat. He was wearing a red plaid button-up shirt that brought out a hint of red in his beard, and he looked...warm.
“Good morning,” he said.
“Hi.” She smiled. “You’re prompt.”
“Yeah, it’s a short commute.” His gaze moved over her. “You look nice.”
Jen smiled. “Thanks. Just jeans.”
“I like jeans,” he said, and then he cleared his throat. “Sorry. I need to get back to a professional distance here, don’t I? It’s possible, I promise.”
“No, you don’t,” she said. “And feel free to tell me that I look nice in jeans. My ego could use it these days.”
He chuckled. “It’s just me today. My guys are working at another house today, but they’ll be here tomorrow.”
Just the two of them today. There would be no buffer, and she’d already been finding herself uncomfortably attracted to this man.
“Do you need me to help?” she asked.
One side of his mouth quirked up into a smile. “Do you want to?”
“Sure. I mean...what else am I going to do, watch you work?” Her cheeks heated as soon as the words came out, because it sounded more flirtatious than she meant to sound. Helping him work was probably safer than just watching him anyway.
He shot her a grin. “Let’s see if we can get that counter out this morning. I need to see how much damage is underneath.”
“Sounds good.”
“I’m going to warn you—I’m bossy when I work. You have to do what I say when I say it.”
She eyed him. “So the Nick who walks his dog is a different guy than the Nick at work?”
“Well, the Nick who walks his dog is off the clock,” he said. “The Nick at work is on a deadline for a very nice woman who needs this work done before Christmas. And he takes that pretty seriously. Besides, it comes down to safety.”
He eyed her for a moment, and she saw a sparkle there that made her wonder if he was flirting. It had been a long time since she’d even paid attention to those things, but this man was making her take notice.
“So, how bossy?” she asked, meeting his gaze.
“I guess we’ll find out,” he said, and there was a hint of a smile at his lips. “Come on, then.”
Nick picked up his tool bag and led the way through the dining room toward the kitchen, and Jen followed. It looked like he was taking charge starting now.
“So here’s the plan,” Nick said. “I’m going to cut the counter here—just before the sink. We’ll get the counter off this side, and then we’re going to remove the kitchen sink completely.”
“Right.” It wasn’t like she had an opinion on this part of things. “You’re the expert.”
“What kind of boss will you make when you get this place up and running?” he asked.
Jen felt a smile play at her lips. “I have a feeling I’ll be a bit bossy, too,” she admitted. “I mean, it won’t exactly come down to safety, but this will be personal. This will be my own gallery and it will reflect on me. So yeah, I think I’ll expect high performance from my employees.”
“I could see you barking out a few orders,” he said.
She chuckled. “That intimidates most men, you know.”
“I’m remarkably secure in my masculinity,” he said, and he leaned a little closer, a smile turning up the corners of his lips.
She couldn’t think of a witty comeback with him looking at her like that, so she just shook her head. “If your work isn’t amazing, my online review is going to be scathing. I’ll say he flirts like crazy and doesn’t deliver.”
“Lucky for me my work is that good,” he quipped back with a grin. “And for the record, I don’t flirt.”
Wait, wasn’t he flirting now? He was...wasn’t he? If she made a fool of herself and her sister heard about this...
“Okay,” he amended. “I’m flirting a bit, but I don’t normally. You and I have accidentally become friends, which throws me off. I’m normally obnoxiously professional. You can ask any of the women I’ve worked for in the last decade.”
Somehow, she could believe that, and it gave her a little thrill to realize that the attention he was giving her was different.
“And to prove myself less professional than I’m claiming, I was wondering if my daughter could see inside your home sometime today,” he said. “I know this sounds really—”
“No problem,” she replied.
“You sure?”
“Of course,” she said. “I’ll be happy to show her around.”
“Thanks,” he said. “She grew up staring at the outside of this mansion, and she never had the chance to see inside.”
“It’ll be nice to have someone to show it to, honestly,” she admitted.
For the next few minutes she watched as he used an electric handsaw to cut the countertop, and then he used a crowbar to pry it up off the base of drawers and cupboards beneath. As he hoisted the heavy counter, he beckoned her closer.
“See?” he said. “All that wood is rotted right out. You could probably dig it out with a cotton swab.”
She smiled at his turn of phrase. “So everything underneath—” The ol
d cabinets were dark with rotted wood along the top, and she felt her stomach sink. “This is more work than we thought.”
“Not really,” he replied. “I expected as much. We can rebuild some of the cabinets. The doors and drawer fronts are fine, so it’ll all look the same. This is structural. I’ve got a guy who can redo the inside of these cabinets in no time.”
Jen nodded. “Okay, that’s good.”
“Hold on, you’re going to need gloves for this,” he said, and he pulled off his own work gloves and passed them over. She slid her hands into the warmed depths of them. “Now I need you to hold this up, if you can. Let me know if you need to put it down. Okay?”
“Yeah,” she said. “Sure.”
The counter was heavier than she thought, and it was also secured to the top of the cupboards, but Nick worked quickly with his crowbar, the nails coming loose with a squeal. As he pried up more of the cupboard, it became easier to hold. All the same, her muscles trembled under the strain.
“I need a break,” she said through gritted teeth.
“Okay,” he said, stepping back. “Put it down.”
Jen released it and let out a breath. He was a strong man, and she could see the difference in their strength just by how much he could do and make look easy while she was struggling with simply holding something up.
“You sure you still want to help?” he asked.
The thought of heading upstairs and leaving him to work alone was a little depressing. This might be hard work, and he might be moderately bossy, but he was good company, too. And she didn’t want to look weak in front of him.
“I’m fine,” she said, and she stretched her arms out, then stepped forward to lift the counter again. “Okay, I’m ready.”
The last of the counter came up with a jolt, and Nick dropped the crowbar and caught the counter in his strong grip, lifting it from her grasp.
“I’ve got it,” he said brusquely. “Step back.”
She did as he said, and he swung the counter past her, and carried it toward the back door.
“Open the door, would you?”
Jen hurried ahead of him and opened it so he could carry the moldering wood outside. He came back in with a rush of cold air.
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