A knock on the door alerted them to company.
John lowered the window to find a man.
“May I help you?” the man asked.
“We’re looking at houses. Thinking of buying or renting. Either way. We got lost.”
“Is that what you were doing with her in front of my house? Looking for directions?” asked the man.
“Sorry,” waved John. “Apologies.”
“Don’t blame you,” said the stranger. “She’s a beauty.”
John turned to look at Lucy, who was feverishly scrubbing the mascara from under her eyes. “That she is.”
“My house will be on the market in a few months. You’re welcome to look now or come back later.”
He looked past the man to the well-kept home. “Why are you selling?”
“Widowed,” said the man as he bit his lip. “Too big to live in by myself.”
“Now we have to check out his house,” muttered John.
Lucy giggled. “Open my door.”
John released the doors, which lifted slowly, like beetle wings.
“Wow,” said the man, stepping back to avoid being hit. “That’s some car.”
“The price of his house just went up,” Lucy joked.
John rounded the car and took her hand.
“We don’t mean to impose.” He walked to the front and pressed his palm to the exterior. “Reclaimed brick?” he asked, noting the worn look of the brick and the not-quite-so-straight lines.
“They did that a lot back in the day,” said the man leading them. “Not sure what the story is on the house. She’s a hundred years old.”
John and Lucy stepped into the cottage-like home. It was nicely refurbished with beautiful touches. It had some charm, but John was less than thrilled about it. It was no Miner’s Pick, and it was nothing like what Lucy had done to his parents’ home.
The owners had gone easy on the miner motif, which was a welcome change, but because the lines of the original construction were apparent, he couldn’t get away from the feel that this had been a modest home at one time. Despite their attempt to bring in into this century, it smacked of a mining shack. Possibly remodeled because it was situated on the canyon. If John were to buy it, he would tear the home down and rebuild.
“Was this one of the first homes around here?” John pretended to be interested.
“I believe so.” The owner stood tall with pride.
John and Lucy politely toured the home. The man saved what he called the best for last. He drew back the curtain and showed the view.
Lucy gasped. “I’ve lived here all my life, but I never get used to Colorado’s stunning beauty,” she remarked.
John turned to her. “I can relate,” he said, but she was too enthralled to notice his compliment.
“The view is spectacular,” said John, shaking the man’s hand. “Thanks for taking the time to share it with us. We’ll be in touch.”
John escorted Lucy to the car. They stopped at the driver’s side door.
“You want to drive or do you want me to drive?”
“I’ve driven enough today.”
He laughed. She was killing him.
“You say that like you’ve learned your lesson or something.”
“I’m good on driving your sports car.”
“You haven’t decided not to drive because you’re afraid or upset, correct?” He looked her directly in the eye to make her squirm if she wasn’t being straight with him.
“No, I’m satisfied.” A faint laugh rolled from her lips.
“Promise me you’re okay.”
“John, do I strike you as someone who needs coddling?”
“My goodness.” He gave her a mischievous look. “Testy, aren’t we?”
She was quiet a moment and then she shared her thoughts.
“Thanks for taking me to check out the house. As you complete the sale of the town and evict everyone,” she said sweetly, “I’ll find my own place.”
He felt like the worst person in the world. He would like to think she didn’t mean it as passively aggressive as it sounded. She used the word ‘evict’ but when he stopped and thought about it, there wasn’t another word to use that summed it up more perfectly.
“Okay,” he replied, trying to be agreeable. “Remember, when we give you a severance package, you'll be able to buy a place here.”
“Wait a minute. How come I can’t buy your house—my house?”
“Because it’s part of the deal. They won’t parcel out pieces of the Blackwood holdings. It’s an all-inclusive deal. It’s marked for sale, and not to you.”
“Why?” she asked quietly.
He could hardly answer her question. He didn’t want to ruin the moment, but she was going to find out, eventually.
“It’s going to be a B&B.” His voice cracked.
“Oh God.” She closed her eyes slowly. “So why can’t I run the B&B?”
“Baby, we’ll find a gorgeous place here.”
“No, no—I’m not sure I want to. I don’t want to put down roots to put down roots. It has to feel right. I might want to do other things with that money than pay rent.”
“What does that mean?” he asked in a panic. “About putting down roots? I get the feeling you’re talking about traveling or actually moving. That’s what it sounds like.”
“Can we have this conversation somewhere else?”
“Are you dismissing me?”
“No, the owner of the house is staring out the window.”
John quickly let them in the car and backed out. The owner might stare, but Lucy did an excellent job of deflecting. One step forward and two steps back. They would have to work it out sooner or later because they kept running into the same subject. All roads led to the sale of the town. She turned to him politely, sadness in her eye. Her spirit was flat as well.
“Thank you for letting me drive your car.”
“You don’t have to thank me, you know. It was my pleasure.”
She laughed like she was letting off a gust of steam, the pressure of this latest blow.
“It was not. You should have seen the look on your face when I asked you to drive.”
“Lucy Shoemaker.” His tone was decidedly delivered to resemble a threat, albeit a fake one.
“Yes, John?”
“Do you wanna go back, or do you wanna keep driving? It’s a pretty day. I kind of wanna see more of that vista and grab a kiss or two.”
Chapter Fourteen
Lucy
Ever since she’d heard the mention of casinos, Lucy wanted to go. She Googled pool games in Idaho Springs and found Tommyknockers Brewery and Pub.
“John.” She wrapped her arms around his big shoulders.
He was sitting in a chair checking his email when she sank into him over the arm.
“Yes, baby?”
She liked checking out the corners of his eyes as they gathered when he smiled.
“So, there is a place here called Tommyknockers.”
“Brewery and Pub.”
She perked up.
“You know it?”
“I know this town inside and out.”
“I don’t get it.”
“Get what?” His eyes were on his phone.
“How I have never seen you in Blackwood.”
The things that he said about Idaho Springs versus Blackwood were having a cumulative effect.
“Well, there’s wasn’t much for me there, and it’s not like I’m here all the time. I travel all over.”
“What exactly do you do?”
He lifted his shoulders. “I do a lot of charity work. Caleb and I and a few cousins, who you’ll probably see before too long, run the corporation. We sit on the board of a couple different organizations. What we hope to do is convert to a nonprofit and do good works from here on out.”
She liked that he wanted to be a do-gooder. “Like what?”
“Scholarships, single mothers, that kind of thing.”
She’d never pegged him for a philanthropist. He came across as a movie star or a playboy. She shook her head, flabbergasted.
He finally looked her in the eye. “Have I annoyed you?”
After a deep breath she continued. “It’s just different. You and I have different lots in life. That’s all. I think it’s wonderful you do good works. You’re not what I expected.”
“Ditto.”
She sat up from the chair and checked the time. It was getting later in the day. She could do yoga, take a bath, and then see about getting in a game of pool at the brewery.
“I’d like to go to the brewery tonight if that works for you.”
“Your wish is my command.”
She wanted to say, ‘Well, in that case, don’t sell the town’ but she didn’t. She had to stop arguing her case with him. She was going to move, and that was that. She pulled up the yoga channel she subscribed to on her video app and cleared out a spot in front of the fireplace that she thought would be perfect for exercise.
She went into the bathroom to change and emerged wearing spandex pants and a matching cropped top. The vista of the man’s home she’d visited came to mind. Some views and places in Colorado stuck with her like they were parts of her being. They had a powerful effect. The reaction from the view she’d seen today had moved her, it was so stunning.
She held the picture of it in her mind as she went through her sequences. She didn’t open up her eyes to acknowledge him, but John moved to another chair to watch her. He was respectful, but she definitely sensed flirtation in the air. If she didn’t need to get exercise and focus, she would have bagged the session. She craved the movement as much as the calm it provided. She’d been through the whole spectrum of emotions, so working through her yoga routine was what was needed.
“Mind if I flick on the fire?”
“No.” She shook her head, and that was the only time they spoke while she worked out.
She started off in mountain pose. She wished she were standing, her feet planted in the grass on the edge of the mountain, bowing to the Rockies as she dived into standing forward bend. She wished she could be on her back porch at home in Blackwood and worship that vista.
The home in Blackwood faced a mountain. The lot itself was a naturally flat area that was flat for a hundred yards before the earth ran nearly straight up and down. The original J.M. Blackwood had built a house beside it.
J.M. Blackwood—Jacob Malachi—had spared no expense and used the finest milled wood, local brick, and stone the area offered. The craftsmanship of Lucy’s home was so fine, she often sat staring and studying it for hours.
Everything about it was spectacular, including the Franklin stove that heated it in the cold of winter. A new kitchen had been built, but that stove still sat in the corner like an old friend. She liked to imagine its fire burning hot, the kettle on top heating water for tea. A family congregating at the long pine table for meals. Those lazy days of dreaming would be gone.
She went to downward dog and then to a plank position before she moved back to a child’s pose. She liked this position for when she was depressed. It seemed to squeeze out her suffering and helped her let go. She would miss her house terribly. She would like to share that with him, but he wouldn’t understand. She breathed in and let go. Again and again.
“That’s some heavy breathing going on.” He spoke to her like he knew what was in her brain.
She was sure this was a good stopping point. She rolled up slowly, windmilled her arms and brought her hands together at her heart. Even if it was in front of him, Lucy felt strongly about finishing up that way.
She tapped his knee on her way past him.
“I’m going to take a shower.”
It wasn’t an invitation per se, but she didn’t lock the door. She stripped down naked and carefully climbed into the deep tub.
She drew the curtain and showered quickly, carefully trying to avoid getting her hair wet. She soaped and shaved and once she was done, she shut off the water and stepped out of the tub cautiously to wrap herself in a towel.
The thick bathroom carpet was plush beneath her feet. It brought to mind imaginary grass overlooking that gorgeous vista. That view would be remembered for a lifetime. After brushing her teeth and refreshing her makeup, she stepped into the hallway, and as she did, Deena and Caleb came in. Lucy froze, feeling naked and exposed. She was completely covered, but still, it was awkward.
It took several calming breaths to brush the embarrassing moment off. She wasn’t sure how she’d feel if Deena were in the towel instead, and John had been the one to see her. A twinge of jealousy threaded through her at the thought of him looking at any woman. Had she known him long enough to feel jealous? She imagined those feelings came quicker once intimacy was shared.
If she planned to play pool, she needed to get dressed. It would have been appropriate and considerate to wear something John bought her, but she decided against it. Her clothes comforted her and gave her a sense of normalcy. She opted for a cute outfit she’d brought along. As a compromise, she would wear the jewelry he’d purchased.
The costume jewelry that reminded her of pale watermelon candy. The earrings had a cluster of rhinestones at the earlobe and finished with a teardrop dangle. He’d bought her a matching necklace that was a string of staggered round and teardrop rhinestone beads. It was flashy, but against her simple attire, the jewelry was perfect.
She slipped on her best underwear, a Wonderbra that gave her extra contour to make her breasts unnaturally perfect. She thought that whoever had designed the bra should be given an award equivalent to the Nobel Peace Prize. Anything that could make a pair of ordinary breasts extraordinary deserved recognition. A Grammy? An Oscar? A mammogrammy? The booby prize, she thought with a giggle.
John knocked and stepped in at the same time. He looked surprised.
“What’s the matter?” She gave herself a once-over in the mirror, making sure she was put together nicely.
“I heard you were near naked in the hall.”
She smiled.
“I wasn’t. I was in a towel. I’d hardly call that naked.”
He focused on what she was wearing, not what she wasn’t. In this case, it consisted of that miraculous bra and a thong. He moved forward like he was going to maul her. She stepped back and wagged a finger at him.
“No, no, no. Not until after the tourney.”
“Tourney?”
“Yeah, there’s a mini tourney at the pub tonight. Pool. I want to play.” She slid on a pair of white jeggings.
John looked like he was hungry but had been told to wait for dinner. She cupped his handsome face apologetically. “Later, after I win. You can be the bonus prize. Let me finish dressing.” She pulled on a shirt low-cut enough to be distracting to others. It was kind of a cheat, but she had learned to use everything in her toolbox when it came to pool. Men were easily sidetracked. While their height and reach were often an advantage to them, her Wonderbra was a superpower she couldn’t overlook.
“It’s optional if you want to come. You can do your own thing if you prefer.”
He looked at her directly. “You’re playing pool? I wouldn’t miss it.”
* * *
The brewery and pub was a short way from the B&B. Each time Lucy slipped into her seat of the Lamborghini she got more accustomed to it. It was like sitting in the palm of a loving hand. While at first she’d felt out of place, she now considered the car an accessory. Somehow, it fancied her up.
The dark room was lit by beer signs and the bright eyes of jealous women. Walking into the pub on John’s arm was like having new shoes on the first day of school. She wanted everyone to see what she had and be a tad jealous. John was Lucy’s new pair of shoes. The problem was she didn’t expect him to fit so well or be so comfortable. It wasn’t because he was rich; it was because he was so kind and hopelessly gorgeous. Though women eyed him with interest, he only had eyes for her. Eat your hearts out.
“
Wait here.”
“Why can’t I come with you?”
“It’s only for players.”
She hated to lie, but he didn’t know how much it cost to buy into the game, and she didn’t want him to pay for it no matter what. She left him at the bar and walked to the sign-up table. She almost choked on the sticker price, but she wanted to do it—just this once. They were in a place that had casinos. She wasn’t much of a card player and had never pulled the handle of a slot. This was her kind of gambling. If she couldn’t bet on herself, she shouldn’t bet on anything.
She went to the nearby ATM and pulled the money from her savings. She rarely, if ever, touched it. It was her emergency fund. She’d kept it so she never felt broke. Deena, Caleb, and John had no idea what destitute felt like. She had no idea what rich felt like. Tonight, she’d live on the edge. She wanted to splurge. John said everyone should, so she’d do it this once.
As she approached the table where she would play first, she understood immediately how people got addicted to gambling. Her pulse raced, an adrenaline buzz rushed through her veins. She was going to enjoy something she loved to do, play pool—for money.
Nerves made her hands shake. She massaged them and cracked her knuckles while John wasn’t looking. He’d taken a seat nearby to watch her. Nerves turned to guilt and worry. What if he was bored? He rose from his seat and approached her while she waited her turn.
“So how does this work? How do you bet?”
“It’s a buy-in.”
She knew he was going to press for details she didn’t want to give.
“How much?”
“It varies, depending on the game.”
His eyes narrowed in suspicion. They both knew she had avoided giving him a straight answer. He was going to make her uncomfortable until she said one way or the other to mind his own business.
She swallowed, smiled, and looked him bashfully in the eye. “I’m sure you can find out, but I don’t want to tell you.”
“See there? That was honesty and I love it. I won’t pry. If you lose, it might do you good to live off of olives for another week.”
He was teasing her, but she hated her being broke to be the subject of their conversation.
What If: A Small Town Big Love Novel Page 10