Chapter One #3
“I’m pretty sure they’re custom,” he told her. “I know they’re handmade. I found them at an estate sale. They were pricey, but worth it.”
“They’re gorgeous.” She pulled out her phone and took a few pictures. “Maybe we can find some pieces that link back to the pattern on the wood. You never know.” She looked at him. “Kitchen next?”
He led the way.
One of the reasons he’d bought the house was the fact that it had already been updated.
He liked working with his hands, but he preferred projects to be things he wanted to do rather than things that were required to make a place livable.
He’d wanted three bedrooms, and the pool out back had been a plus.
The kitchen was big with a lot of windows and good-quality cabinets.
His real estate agent had gone on about the appliances and counter space, but he didn’t cook, so none of that mattered to him.
He was more of a takeout kind of guy. He worked long hours, he lived alone—getting food to-go was easy.
He waited while Wynn looked around. Her brown eyes were large and expressive. He liked her eyes. And her hair. It was dark and long and curly. Like, really curly. He often found himself wanting to touch the curls to see if they were as soft as they looked.
Of course he also thought about other kinds of touching—not that he would act on those thoughts, either. But a guy could dream, and Wynn was definitely dream material.
She pointed to the empty space by the bay window. “That would be where a table and chairs would go. Unless you eat in the dining room.”
“I didn’t furnish the dining room.”
Her eyebrows rose. “So you eat...” She put her hands on her hips. “No. Do not tell me you either eat standing up at the counter or while sitting on the sofa.”
She was an intriguing combination of annoyed and amused.
“You’re not speaking,” she said.
“You told me not to.”
She laughed. “You’re right, I did. My mistake. So you do eat at the counter or on the sofa.”
“It’s easy.”
“You are such a guy. Fine. You need a table and chairs. Joylyn will not think standing while dining is the least bit cozy.” She walked over to his cabinets and glanced at him. “May I?”
He nodded.
She began opening doors, then closing them. He knew she wouldn’t find much inside. He owned a handful of plates, a few bowls and mugs, some flatware. His cooking supplies consisted of a couple of pots, one with a lid, and a cookie sheet he’d never used.
She glanced in the large pantry, where he kept his coffee and a few boxes of cereal. When she closed the door, she turned to him.
“You don’t cook.”
It wasn’t a question, but he answered it anyway. “Nope.”
“Joylyn is going to need healthy food, which means cooking at home. Does she know how?”
“She does.”
Alisha had taught her. He still remembered the first time Joylyn had made him dinner. Spaghetti. She’d used every pot and pan he’d owned and the kitchen had been a mess, but she’d been so proud of herself and he’d been impressed as hell.
Recalling that made the ache of missing her a little more intense. He supposed some fathers wouldn’t be thrilled to have their pregnant daughter moving in, but he couldn’t wait. They would have time together—time for him to figure out why he’d lost her and how to get her back.
Wynn glanced around. “You’re going to need dishes, flatware, serving pieces, pots and pans. Actually, everything.” She shook her head. “Shall we go look at her bedroom?”
On the way to the bedrooms, she ducked into the hall bathroom.
“It’s empty,” she said, reappearing in the hallway. “You’re going to need supplies in there, too. Towels and soap and a bath mat.” Her eyebrows rose. “Maybe some kind of artwork on the wall.”
He groaned. “In a bathroom? Is that normal?”
“It is. Trust me. Now where’s the bedroom?”
He pointed to the larger of the spare rooms. He used the smaller one for an office. He’d set up a folding table and chair and used a moving box as a file cabinet. He only had a laptop and a printer—he didn’t need anything more.
Wynn walked into Joylyn’s room and came to a stop. Her eyes widened and her lips parted. “Oh, Garrick, where did you find this?”
“A guy I knew back in Phoenix was selling it. The set belonged to his great-grandmother. It’s not too much?”
“No. It’s perfect.”
Wynn crossed to the large four-poster bed. The wood, also mahogany, was intricately carved with flowers and fairies and leaves. The dresser and nightstands had the same design.
Despite their size, all the pieces seemed light and whimsical.
The second he’d seen the pictures, he’d known that Joylyn would love it.
Before handing over a check, Garrick had examined every inch of the furniture and had quickly figured out the set had been made by a master craftsman.
He’d bought it, thinking he would give it to her when she and Chandler got settled after Chandler left the Marines.
Now she would get to see it before that.
“What are Joylyn’s favorite colors?” Wynn asked, running her hands across the carvings.
“Purple and blue.”
She smiled. “We’ll get a really great comforter. A thick one that’s soft. And lots of pillows.” She glanced at him, her eyes bright with excitement. “The hall bathroom is pretty plain, so we can continue the color theme in there. Extra thick towels with a matching bath mat. Maybe some accessories.”
“And artwork,” he said dryly. “Don’t forget that.”
She grinned. “I won’t.” She looked at the walls. “Maybe a fairy print. We’ll have to see what they have. Or maybe I can find something online and have it printed on canvas. It’s a great look and not that expensive. We can decide as we go.”
“We?”
She returned her attention to him. “I assumed you weren’t just asking for a shopping list. You have great taste in furniture, but you seem lacking in the softer touches. Unless you want to do it on your own?”
“Absolutely not. I appreciate your willingness to see this through.” He hesitated. “I asked for your help because I knew you’d make her room look good, but I didn’t mean for you to take on a whole project.”
She smiled. “It’s a challenge and I love a challenge. Plus I’m committed now.”
Her voice was teasing, her expression happy. As she’d said, he’d only known her well enough to say hello and comment on the weather. He’d noticed her, of course. No straight guy could be within twenty feet of Wynn and not notice her, but that was physical. He hadn’t thought much about who she was.
Now he found himself enjoying her company and wanting to know more about her.
“With Joylyn arriving next weekend, we don’t have a lot of time,” she added. “How about going shopping tomorrow?”
“If you’re available, that would be great.”
“I’m free.” The smile returned. “You’re going to have to brace yourself. This is going to be a big hit on your credit card.”
“Not a problem.” He had plenty of savings, and except for food and an occasional guys’ night out, he rarely spent any money. “I want Joylyn to feel good about staying here. Thanks for helping me, Wynn.”
She smiled. “You are going to owe me big time.”
“You name your price and I’ll pay it.”
Something flashed in her eyes. For a second he wondered if she was going to suggest something he would find intriguing, but then she looked away.
“I’ll let you know what I decide. In the meantime I’ll get going on the shopping list. I’m going to start in the kitchen.”
She walked down the hall. He allowed himself to admire that view of her, then shook off any lingering desire.
Wynn was his neighbor. She was helping him when she didn’t have to, and he would respect that.
As for wanting anything else—he knew better.
Relationships always ended badly for him.
He’d been through enough to know he was done with trying to make one work.
If he wanted to repay her for what she was doing, he would build her a gazebo or expand her back deck. Nothing else. Anything romantic would only be a disaster.