Chapter 13
CHAPTER 13
“ I think we have a winner!”
It only took twelve paint swatches, as many dirty brushes, and one drop cloth that Spencer would need to replace before the painters came by tomorrow, but they’d finally arrived at a shade of white that looked good in every room and in every type of light.
“I never could have done all of that without you,” Spencer admitted as he hit the brush against the edge of the bucket to flick off the remaining water droplets and dry the bristles. He wiped it on the cloth and set it down next to the others. “Too many options and I tend to freeze.”
“I agree that it’s harder than it looks,” Trinity said. She’d collected all of the paint samples that they had gotten from Sam’s Hardware, hammered the lids back into place, and stored them in a cardboard box off to the side. “And it all starts looking the same after a while, which makes it even more difficult.”
She suddenly rotated her slender wrist over to glance at her watch.
“I’ve still got about a half hour before I need to leave to pick up Mia and Liam. Do you want to walk around and show me exactly what you’re thinking you’ll need help with when it comes to decorating?”
Pushing off of his knees, Spencer stood all the way up. “It’s fair to say I’m going to need help with all of it. But we can start in the bedroom.”
Trinity’s posture changed ever so slightly.
“It’s just that I don’t have a bed or dressers or anything,” he explained, “and I think those should get ordered sooner than later so I’ll have something to sleep on when I’m ready to move in.”
“Right. That makes sense,” she said with a nod and a breath that felt a little like relief.
He walked through the halls toward the master bedroom, which was all but completed, minus the paint and a few finish work details like baseboards and molding. It was his favorite room in the house, simply because it was the most peaceful. On either side of where his bed would go were large paned windows that looked out onto the pasture. The big barn could be spotted in the distance, and in the summer months, the lupines that dotted the hills would create the most beautiful blue backdrop. He knew even when it was nothing but a blanket of white snow outside his window, it would still be breathtaking.
Trinity instantly got the vision, her own breath drawing in sharply. “Oh, wow. What a view.”
“It’s the whole reason I had the house situated this way.” He moved closer to the windows. “I dream of building a little chicken coop right outside here in the springtime. Nothing like waking up every morning to the call of a rooster.”
She laughed. “Can’t say that’s something I’ve ever done. I usually wake up to the noise of a toddler.”
“Probably reaches the same decibels,” he teased, grinning. He stepped back and made a big sweeping gesture. “Obviously the bed will go right here. And nightstands on either side. Though I suppose I only need the one since it’s just me.”
“You’ll want two,” she corrected. “For symmetry’s sake.”
“Do you think I need a dresser even though I’ve got that big walk in?” He hooked his thumb behind him in the direction of the closet. “Gotta be honest, I don’t even think I’ve got enough clothes to fill up a quarter of the space in the closet as it is.”
Trinity thumbed her chin as she thought on it, then paced toward the closet to peek her head inside. “You don’t necessarily need a dresser unless you’d like to store some of your things in drawers. Socks and t-shirts and things like that. And a dresser is a nice anchor for a television, if you’re the sort that likes to watch TV in bed.”
“I do. Mostly just around the holidays,” he said in all seriousness. “The Christmas Countdown is my favorite. I typically watch a movie a night.”
Spencer sensed Trinity was trying to stifle a giggle because her hand went to her mouth and she looked down at the ground, something like mischief alight in her eyes. But then she quickly recovered and brought her gaze back up.
“Then I think a dresser would be a good idea. They make sets to match the nightstands. Sometimes even the bed, too. Do you know if you want something that comes with both a headboard and footboard?”
“Never thought about it.”
She did a full one-eighty, spinning to look at the room from every angle. “I think this bedroom is so grand that you’ll want substantially heavy furniture to balance it all out. You’ve got such a high ceiling, and that beam is amazing.” She looked up at the hand-hewn wooden beam at the pitch of the ceiling that extended the full length of the room. “If I were you, I’d pick out something that mimics the rustic vibe you’ve already got going here. It’s fantastic.”
“You don’t think it’s too masculine?”
She chuckled softly. “Well, you are a guy. And a cowboy at that. A bachelor, too. I think you can get away with it.”
“Not sure I want to be one for life, though.”
“A cowboy?” She swallowed. “Or a bachelor?”
“The cowboy part of me isn’t going anywhere,” he said, flashing his dimples. “But I hope someday my single status might. I’d love to share this place with someone. Have a family and create a home. I want to make sure I pick out furniture that’s conducive to that.”
“I, personally, love the rustic look,” she said. Panic suddenly shot through her eyes, and she shook her head. “Not that I’m going to be living here. Not trying to imply anything by saying that.”
“I know,” he said, not at all bothered by her slipup. “But it’s important to me that this house has a woman’s touch. It’s the whole reason I’ve asked you to help me. Left to my own devices, I’d have a mattress on box springs and milk crates for nightstands.”
“I said you’re a bachelor,” she teased. “Not a college student.”
“I’m going out on a limb to say that the decoration skills aren’t all that different despite the age gap.”
His own style hadn’t changed, at least. He’d lived in that fifth wheel on the cattle ranch from the moment he’d graduated high school, and other than a new pair of boots by the door or a hat on the hook, very little in the way of décor had been added over the years.
“Anything else I should think to purchase for this room before we move to the next?” he asked.
“Have you thought about bedding?”
“Nope. What do I need? A pillow and some blankets?”
She was patient with him, which he appreciated. He knew he was as close to a lost cause as possible.
“You’ll probably want to purchase a bedding set. Something that comes with a comforter and shams.”
“Shams?” An eyebrow lifted.
“They’re like fancy pillow cases.”
“Ah, gotcha.” He nodded. It was the first time he’d heard of such a thing.
“Unless you have a family quilt or something that holds meaning that you’d rather use instead of a store-bought comforter.”
“My sister and Nana have been working on some quilts, actually. Don’t know what their plans for them are. Maybe I should take a look and see if there’s anything I could use.”
“I think you should definitely do that. It’s always nice to use heirlooms wherever possible. At the very least, something that holds meaning.”
Spencer understood. Sometimes, he felt like the house and the things he planned to put in it belonged to someone else. There was no emotional attachment, no connection. But in a weird way, by having Trinity help him with the process, it brought just a little bit of heart into the equation. It was nice to have another person to bounce ideas off of.
“What do you think?” he asked. “Should we head to the living room next?”
She gave an enthusiastic nod. “Definitely. I’ve already been putting some thought into that space. If you can swing it, I think a big leather sectional would look best. They can be pricey, but leather only gets better with age. The scratches and the scarring—it just adds character.”
“Don’t I know it. I’ve got some saddles that are older than me and they’re just now breaking in and getting comfortable. Boots, too.”
“Of course,” she said with a little shake of her head. “I don’t need to tell you that. You’re a cowboy. I don’t need to educate you on the durability and timelessness of leather. You work with it daily.”
“I do,” he confirmed. “Hey, do you think it would be weird if I figured out how to display some of my favorite items from the barn? Some of my grandad’s old bridles are antiques, and I think they might look good hanging on that big blank wall in the hallway. Right now, they’re just stored in a trunk in a dusty tack room.”
“There’s enough room for it, certainly. And the hall is spacious enough that you’d still be able to pass through without bumping into anything or knocking things down. I think if it holds meaning to you, then you should find a way to incorporate it into your home. No brainer.”
She was giving good advice, and twenty minutes later, they’d wrapped up their initial tour of the place. He knew she was successful with her flower shop and loved the work she did there, but if that ever failed or she found herself in a position where she wanted more, interior design was definitely in her wheelhouse. For the first time since drawing up the plans, Spencer felt like he had a true vision for the house.
“I need to pick the kiddos up from school, but if you happen to find one of those quilts, send me a picture,” she said. “I’d like to take a peek at the color scheme and see if I can come up with some accent pillows for your bed. Might not even be too hard to make them if I can get my sewing machine up and running again. I swear those things are like printers and always stop working the moment you need them.”
Spencer walked her to the door and stepped out onto the porch that finally had a railing and was no longer a hazard. “I’m planning to head over there right after this. I’ll keep you posted.”
The smile that curved up the corners of her mouth faltered for the briefest moment when she turned to face him, her eyes becoming serious as they locked onto Spencer’s.
He swallowed thickly, noticing the shift in their exchange.
It felt like the end of a date, the culmination of an enjoyable afternoon where it wouldn’t be out of place to lean in for a hug, possibly even a kiss. But this wasn’t a date. If anything, it was a transaction. Spencer had told Trinity he’d cancel the bill for the first horse lesson in exchange for all of her home decorating help. It seemed like it was the very least he could offer.
But the way her eyes blinked up at him now, lashes heavy and thick, felt intimate. Was he reading it all wrong? If he extended a hand for a shake, it would appear too formal, too forced. But what else was there to do?
Trinity took a single step back. “You’re sure I can’t pay you for Mia’s lesson?”
“You’re sure I can’t pay you for all of your help today?” he countered, knowing it could cancel her question out.
She grinned, understanding. “I really had a great time, Spencer. It didn’t feel like work,” she said. “Dreaming and creating never does.”
Those last few words replayed in Spencer’s head as he walked across the acreage toward the ranch house, dodging the areas of muck and mud that resulted from the light rain they’d had earlier in the day. He’d been dreaming and creating all afternoon, too, but instead of just imagining furniture and decorations in his house, he’d pictured so much more. A wife and kids. Drawings on the fridge and memories in every room.
In his visions, it wasn’t necessarily Trinity that embodied that future. Or at least it hadn’t started out that way. But with every touch that she added to his home, every potential piece of furniture or artwork or decoration that she suggested made her a part of it. If he’d known that was going to be the case, he might not have asked her to help him with the endeavor.
Because now she felt intricately tied to his vision. His home. His future. And he wondered if that was fair to put that on her. He could see the excitement in her eyes with every suggestion she offered. Of course, it wasn’t because she was picturing herself living there. That would be crazy. Her excitement stemmed from Spencer’s excitement.
But he would be lying if he said he hadn’t started picturing her there, too.