Chapter Fifteen
P lacing her hands on her hips, Lynsey looked around the living room. She’d made the decision to focus her efforts, and the little money she had left, on the downstairs. She could sleep on the sofa, when she actually got one, until she’d found herself a job and managed to save enough to get the upstairs in a liveable state.
After rummaging through the one remaining kitchen cupboard, she’d found a roll of bin bags and after spending the night gathering as much of the lumps and pieces of broken plaster as she could without a vacuum cleaner, she’d filled seven of the bags, and that was just from the living room.
She grinned. It looked a lot better. Even with just the plaster contained and off the floor, the difference was amazing and she could appreciate the space. She used the toe of her trainer to wipe the floorboards, revealing a beautiful dark oak. With a little work, she was sure she could shine them up beautifully.
She’d also uncovered more tools than she’d first spotted, which had seemingly been left and forgotten. Two sledgehammers with safety goggles and helmets, a hammer, even an electric screwdriver with numerous drill heads. Whoever had sold the cottage must have left in a hurry, or at least given up on the dream of renovating.
Wiping her forehead with the back of her hand, she glanced towards the window. Her phone had run out of battery a few hours ago, but judging by the fact the sun was still in the process of rising, she figured she had a couple of hours until the bakery would open for the morning. Yes, she’d miss the morning’s baking, but as Elsie had assured her as a volunteer she wasn’t expected to help with that, but she’d be back by opening.
Enough time to make a start on something else. Walking across to the small pile of abandoned tools, she picked up a sledgehammer and tested it for weight. She could handle that. Leaning it back against the wall, she reached for the plastic goggles and wiped them across her dusty jumper before slipping them on. Next, she balanced one of the oversized hard hats on her head before picking up the sledgehammer again.
Making her way towards the back of the living room and through the door into the small pokey dining room, she widened her stance and practiced swinging the sledgehammer.
It couldn’t hurt to knock through to the kitchen now, could it? If she did it herself, then it would save money. Lifting the heavy sledgehammer up again, she stepped forward. This was it. There would be no going back once she’d started. The door to the kitchen had already been taken off and currently leaned up against the back wall, so maybe the previous owner had had the same idea as her.
Shifting her weight forward, she huffed as she pulled the sledgehammer forward, almost toppling as its weight yanked her forward. And there it was, the loud crunch of metal meeting brick, of bricking cracking. Lowering the sledgehammer to her side, she whooped and pumped her free hand in the air. She could do this! She actually could!
A loud cough sounded from the doorway, and she turned. Zac hunter stood leaning against the doorframe, clipboard in hand as usual. The only difference in his appearance were two shadows beneath his eyes. Dropping the sledgehammer in surprise, Lynsey jumped as it pounded against the floorboard inches from her foot.
‘Careful.’ His gravelly voice broke through the impending silence.
Looking down at the sledgehammer, she moved it carefully and slumped her shoulders as she noticed the newly formed dent in the oak floorboards. ‘Do you always have to sneak up on me?’
He tilted his head to the side and grimaced. ‘I thought the cottage would be empty at this time of the morning.’
She frowned. ‘So you thought you’d... what? Break in?’
‘And what do you propose I might steal?’ He glanced around the room. ‘That battered old door?’
‘I don’t know, but builders don’t usually break into their prospective customer’s homes, do they?’ he had a point though. Whatever the reason he was here for, it wasn’t to steal some good door or a handful of plaster dust.
‘Not any builders I know.’
‘Then I come back to my first question. What are you doing letting yourself into my cottage?’ All she wanted was a straight answer.
‘I was working on your quote.’ He tapped his clipboard.
‘I’ve already told you I can’t afford it.’
‘You also told me yesterday that you were going to sell.’ Sighing, he crossed his arms, his clipboard still in hand.
‘Yes, well, actually I said I might have to sell.’
‘No, you didn’t. you specifically told me you had to sell.’
‘So? It doesn’t matter, does it? Whether I’d told you I had to sell or not, you still shouldn’t be sneaking around other people’s property. You...’ And that was it. She knew why he was here, and it had nothing to do with the quote he had prepared for her. It all made sense now. After she’d told him she was going to sell, he’d walking around the living room, inspecting things. She hadn’t thought much of it at the time, but now, the pieces of the puzzle were slipping into place. He wanted to buy the cottage. He’d probably put a super low offer in because he knew all the jargon, knew what needed to be done, and then he’d renovate it and sell it on for a tidy profit. He’d probably sneaked back in narrowing her eyes. She glared at him. ‘I know what you’re up to.’
‘You do?’ Uncrossing his arms again, he patted his clipboard. ‘I doubt you do.’
Opening and closing her mouth, she swiped at the strands of her stuck to her hot face. What was it with this man? She watched as he ran his finger through his sandy hair, his dimple showing as he smiled at her. Why was he so... cute? She closed her eyes, counting to ten. No, not cute. Infuriating.
That’s what he was. Yes, he was infuriating and had been since the first moment she’d met him. She didn’t care that with that hair, those eyes, that dimple, he was every inch her type. It didn’t matter what he looked like; he was still an arrogant, too-good-to-take-this-job builder. Oh, yes, and a trespasser at that. Opening her eyes again, her stomach still stirring with emotions, she met his gaze. ‘You’re trespassing and if you don’t leave, then I’m going to have to call the police. You may think you’re entitled to enter my home without my permission...’
‘Am I still a trespasser if the door was open?’
‘Yes!’ She bit down on her bottom lip. She’d had a feeling that the catch was damaged. She’d definitely shut it last night, she’d even looked it, hadn’t she? Okay, maybe she hadn’t locked it, but she’d shut it. Definitely. ‘Anyway, as I was saying, you may think you’re entitled to barge into this cottage... uninvited may I add, and look around trying to find things wrong with the place just so you can put a stupidly low offer in, renovate it and sell it for a huge profit, but I hate to disappoint you but...’
Looking down, he chuckled.
‘What?’ The anger bubbled up inside her.
‘You’re wrong.’
‘Of course you’d say that.’ She jabbed her finger towards the living room and the front door beyond. ‘Just leave.’
Holding his hands up, palms forward, he spun around slowly before calling over his shoulder, ‘I guess you don’t want to hear what I have to say then.’
‘No, I don’t.’ Slipping the goggles back down, she picked up the sledgehammer again and swung it at full force against the wall. Why did she let him bother her so much?
Again and again, she swung the sledgehammer at the wall between the dining room and the kitchen, pushing all thoughts of Zac Hunter out of her mind as she watched the bricks continue to crack beneath the weight of the sledgehammer.
And he wasn’t her type. Far from it. She didn’t know why she’d had that thought. It certainly hadn’t been a voluntary one. Who would find him attractive, anyway? And even if they did, then his personality was definitely a minus.
She hit the brickwork again, with a little more force each time she tried. As she paused to a take, she heard a clatter from the living room. Seriously? Had he not taken the hint?