A Cowboy To Come Home To

“So, is there someone here to tell me what I need to do?”

Cooper grinned. “Yep. Me, for now. The bedrooms are all painted, and we’ve just finished laying the floor in the master. How are you with a brad nailer? We’ve got the baseboard and crown molding ready to go.”

Melissa hesitated. Couldn’t he install the trim while she worked with someone else? The last thing she wanted was to spend the next four hours in the same room with Coop.

“Melissa.”

His rough voice pulled her back. “What?”

“Is it so bad? Really?”

She met his gaze. He wasn’t smiling, wasn’t making fun or trying to be charming—for once. He was dead serious. He shifted his gloves from one hand to the other—was he nervous? He hadn’t aged, other than a few lines in the corners of his eyes that were more likely from the sun and wind than time passing. He still looked so much like the boy she’d laughed with over the years. Though she wouldn’t admit it out loud in a thousand years, she missed that guy. Once upon a time she’d called him her best friend.

“You remind me,” she said coolly. “You remind me, okay? Of how stupid and naive I once was.”

“I’m sorry about that.” He took a step forward. “But I can’t change it. We’re grown-ups. Surely we can manage to work together for a few hours without killing each other.”

He was right. “Yeah, well, this place isn’t about you or me, so we just have to suck it up, right? Besides, I don’t know much about construction, so it appears I get to swallow my pride and let you boss me around.”

He smiled then, a crooked upturn of his lips that reached his eyes. “Like I could ever tell you what to do.”

The air hummed between them for a few minutes. Briefly, Melissa missed the way things used to be, the easy rapport they had shared. Cooper had been a tease, though she’d always known that his flirting meant nothing. It had been safe to banter back and forth because he was Scott’s best friend as well as hers. He’d given the toast at their wedding, for Pete’s sake.

She ignored his last statement and checked her watch. “Shouldn’t we get started? I only have until one o’clock, when I have to be back at the shop.”

He led the way to the master bedroom, pausing briefly to introduce her to the other people working there, installing oak hardwood in the other bedrooms. To her surprise she saw Callum Shepard, a local dairy farmer and newcomer to town, and Rhys Bullock, Martha Bullock’s son and one of the hands over at Diamondback Ranch. The big surprise was that they were being bossed around by Chelsea Smith, whose father owned the hardware store.

After the hellos, Melissa followed Cooper to the back bedroom, pausing in the doorway to admire what had already been done. the walls were the shade of her favorite vanilla latte, and the rich color of the hardwood looked lovely against it. There were windows in two walls, providing a view of the distant Rockies in one direction and a view of the creek valley that ran to the north in the other.

“This is nice,” she said, stepping in and hearing her boots echo on the wood floor.

“Stu deserves it. They were already struggling to make ends meet, and then to lose all their belongings…Sometimes life just isn’t fair. I’m glad they were able to get this going and I’m happy to help. He’s a good man and a good worker. He deserved a break.”

It was easier to dismiss Coop when he was being deliberately charming. When he was sincere it was hard to remember why she resented him so much.

Lengths of baseboard were stretched across the floor, and a saw was set up on a heavy drop cloth. A loud drone filled the room as the air compressor fired up.

Cooper saw to filling the air nailer and then reached for his measuring tape. “Hold this here,” he commanded, leaving her with one end. Together they measured the wall, then measured the baseboard—twice—and Cooper marked it with a carpenter’s pencil.

She held the end while he made the first cut, then angled the other side with the miter saw so the next piece would match up in the corner.

Together they moved the piece to the wall, putting it flush against the end cap of the woodwork in the doorway. “Okay, now you’re on. I’ll hold it in place and you nail it.”

“Me?”

“Sure, you. Take the nailer and press it against that hollow part there.” He pointed to the curve in the baseboard design. “Is it pressed all the way in? Okay, now squeeze the trigger.”

With a loud snap, the nailer jerked in her hand. “Is that right?”

“Looks good to me. Keep going.”

The tool felt odd in her hand, and the noise was loud, especially when the compressor kicked in again. But it was kind of fun, nailing the molding into place. They had to adjust a cut when working their way around the doorway for the walk-in closet, but for the moment Melissa forgot about how much she disliked Cooper, and simply focused on the job.

They worked in relative silence as they finished the baseboard, and then moved on to the crown molding. This was harder, getting the angle just right. It took a few tries with each piece, and nailing it in place was awkward when Melissa had to hold the nailer above her head.

It was after twelve when they finished. She stood back as Cooper took a tube of wood filler and touched up the corner seams where there were inevitable tiny gaps. He took his time and she watched him on the stepladder, the way his jeans fit and how his customary cotton plaid shirt spread across broad, muscled shoulders. Scott hadn’t been the only one on the football and hockey teams. Cooper had been a bit of a jock, too. But unlike Scott, he’d never had a girl watching from the stands.

Nope, he’d had about ten girls, all gazing at him with love-struck expressions, sighing blissfully if he ever turned his attention to them. Which he did. Just never for too long. And never at Melissa.

“Once this is dry, it’ll just need to be touched up with a bit of paint. What do you think?”

Melissa looked away so he wouldn’t know she’d been staring at him, and made a point of sweeping her gaze around the room. “It looks finished,” she said, realizing it truly did. “The crown molding was a nice touch.”

“We didn’t do that in the kids’ rooms,” Cooper said, screwing the cap back on the tube. “It’s expensive. It’s a nice addition in here, though.”

Melissa checked her watch. “My time’s just about up. Are you done here, too?”

Cooper nodded. “For today. I come out most mornings for a couple of hours and lend a hand. Bring the guys coffee. It won’t be long now until it’s ready. The drywall guy is coming back tomorrow to finish the den, and then it’s just painting the front rooms, putting down the flooring and installing the kitchen cupboards. You coming back another day?”

He rolled up the hose from the compressor as he spoke. Melissa paused. It hadn’t been so bad, being with Cooper. Awkward and at times uncomfortable, but they’d been civil, which was more than they’d accomplished in years.

Now that she’d seen the house and helped it take shape, even just a little, she wanted to come back and help out again. “I’ll have to check the work schedule at the shop and call the coordinator. Amy’s fine with running the store, but I’m the only floral designer.”

“Well, there’s always stuff to be done. I’m sure your help would be welcomed.”

On the way out of the house Melissa stopped and picked up her purse. Cooper had put the compressor in the hall by the other bedrooms and she heard his voice as he spoke to some workers. She was walking to her car when he called out her name.

She turned and saw him jogging her way. “Hey,” he said, slowing as he approached. “I’m going to pick up the lunch order from the Wagon Wheel and bring it back. You want to grab a sandwich or something?”

With him? There was letting bygones be bygones and then there was…what? Lunch for two at the busiest spot in town? They’d been civil this week, but the idea of sitting down and making pleasant conversation was unfathomable. They weren’t friends. Adults, maybe, but the time for friendship and hanging out together was long gone. It was far too late to rewrite the past.

“I have to get back to the shop, sorry,” she stated, reaching into her purse for her keys.

Cooper stood back. “Sure. Maybe another time,” he suggested, though they both knew it wasn’t really an invitation.

“Maybe,” she agreed, but it was an empty agreement.

“See you around, Mel.”

“Yeah. Bye, Coop.”

She reached for the door handle and scooted behind the wheel before he could see the color rise in her cheeks.

She’d called him Coop. After staring at his behind and being asked out to lunch.

This was exactly why she had said no. The last thing she needed in her life was a complication like Cooper Ford. They’d done a good job of avoiding each other in the past, and she could take care to do it again.

CHAPTER TWO