Summer Nights

“It’s a lot of house.”

“Then sure. I’m happy to help.” She moved close and linked arms with him. “Can we get a pink tub in the master? I’ve always wanted a pink tub.”

Her breast pressed into his arm. He tried telling himself he wasn’t sixteen anymore and that this wouldn’t be the highlight of his day. But there were parts that didn’t believe him.

“No pink.”

“But it’s pretty.”

They headed for the office.

Once inside, he carefully stepped away, needing the distance. He couldn’t think when she was close and if he wasn’t careful, he would be agreeing to a pink tub.

Jocelyn, a no-nonsense woman in her early fifties, was waiting for him in her small office. She looked capable, managed her crew with a fair but firm attitude and had agreed to a clause in the contract that basically gave him her firstborn if she didn’t complete the stable on time. Just as good, she’d come highly recommended.

“This is Annabelle,” he said by way of introduction.

“You didn’t tell me you were married,” Jocelyn said, holding out her callused hand. “I always need to meet the wife. I know who’s the real power player in a relationship.”

Annabelle laughed. “Not the wife. Just a friend who’s going to help Shane with all the girly stuff.”

They shook hands. Jocelyn grinned. “Got frightened by the list of finishes, right?”

“It was a longer list than I was expecting,” he admitted.

“It always is.” Jocelyn ran her hand through her short-cropped gray hair. “My advice is to give him maybe three choices in every category. No more. Men can’t handle it.”

Shane wanted to protest being talked about like that, but his bringing Annabelle along to help sort of proved Jocelyn’s point.

She led them into a conference room where the plans were laid out on a huge table.

“I need approval on the size of the house,” she said, pointing to two chairs next to each other. “We can move walls around if need be, but I want to start pulling permits and reserving equipment. In a perfect world, we’d dig out the foundation in a couple of weeks, when we start on the stables.”

“You can get started that fast?” Annabelle asked, taking a seat.

“If I get a little cooperation. This one knew everything he wanted in the stable, down to the paint color in the office. But I’d swear, he’s never been in a house before.”

“I’ve been in them,” he grumbled, settling next to Annabelle, but being careful not to lean in too close. “I’ve never built one. There’s a difference.”

“Tell me about it.” She handed Annabelle a printed list of questions. “Get me the answers to these and I’ll be a fan forever. Before you leave, if possible.” She started toward the door. “Try to keep the yelling down.”

“We won’t yell,” Annabelle told her.

Jocelyn grinned. “Then you haven’t done this before, either. Trust me, honey, there’s always yelling.”

She left, closing the door behind her.

Annabelle drew the plans toward them. “It’s your house. We’re not going to argue.” She turned and smiled at him. “Because you’re going to listen to everything I say, right?”

Her gaze captured him, holding him in place. Not that he wanted to go anywhere. “Not likely.”

She chuckled, then turned her attention to the drawings. “Okay, the house. It’s nice. I like all the windows. There’ll be plenty of light in the winter. Big master. Good his and hers closets.” She shifted slightly and her hair slipped off her shoulder to rest on the back of his hand.

The curls tickled and teased, making him want to weave his fingers through the strands. Even without trying he could breathe in the scent of her. He swore silently, reminding himself he had to maintain control.

“Hmm.” She pointed to the kitchen. “This isn’t going to work. Look at where the pantry is. Around behind the refrigerator? That’s going to be a pain. And this wall here, closing everything off.”

“You need the wall for cabinets.”

“You need a wall for cabinets. There’s a difference. The kitchen itself is great, but it’s all catawampus.”

He drew back and grinned. “It’s what?”

“Catawampus? Askew. Turned around wrong.”

“I know what the word means.”

“I was trying to talk in cowboy terms. So we could relate to each other.”

“You don’t think we’re relating now?”

Maybe it was wishful thinking on his part but he would swear she leaned a little closer. And that her lips parted as she drew in a breath.

“I do, but I wanted to make sure.” She blinked a couple of times and turned her attention back to the plans. “All you’d have to do is shift everything ninety degrees. Then the kitchen would be open to the family room and the sink would still face a window. The pantry would be accessible, like this.”

She picked up a pencil and drew a couple of quick lines.

He was more intrigued by her reaction than what she was doing. Was it possible that she felt it, too? The connection? Talk about a game changer. Not that he was looking to get involved, but there was a whole country of possibilities between interested and involved.

“I’ll talk to Jocelyn,” he told her, still watching her as he spoke.

“You and I should probably schedule some time in the home improvement store so I can get an idea of what you like. For finishes and fixtures. That will help me narrow down the choices. I know everyone is crazy about granite, but I think there are a lot of manmade finishes you could consider. They’re so easy to take care of.”

More time with her? “Sounds like a plan.”

“Good.”

She turned toward him. Their faces were inches apart. Her mouth called to him in ways that left him hungry and determined. He wanted her and if she felt the same way—

“Shane?”

“Hmm?”

“What do you think of Charlie?”

It wasn’t the question he’d been expecting.

“Charlie Dixon?”