Chapter Nine
CHAPTER
NINE
‘She’s got a good body.’ Noah stood in front of the house with his arms crossed and his feet hip-width apart, his gaze assessing.
Beth mirrored his stance but tilted her head just so, running her eyes over every line, every angle, trying to ascertain why he held that opinion. In the end, she gave up and instead mimicked his knowledgeable tone, saying, ‘Yeah, shame about her innards, though.’
Noah flashed her an amused grin and they both laughed.
‘Do you think it’s safe to go in?’ she asked, looking up at him.
‘Hard to say. I wouldn’t think she’s structurally compromised. The roof lines look okay, no buckling or anything out of place. But we should probably call in the guys with the lab coats to test for asbestos.’
‘I was afraid you’d say that.’
‘Better to be safe than sorry.’
‘I guess.’
Noah eyed her critically. ‘Oh, I forgot. I’m talking to Little Miss Risk Taker, here. Climbing unstable objects, breathing in deadly invisible fibres. Nothing scares you, am I right?’
Beth gave him a dubious look. ‘You’re right about one thing, you are forgetting who you’re talking to. It’s me, Beth. You know, the one who almost had a panic attack last night because she was surrounded by people.’ She huffed out an indignant breath. ‘Nothing scares me. Yeah, right.’
‘I get it. People can be scary.’
She nodded, completely serious. ‘Yeah. They can.’
The silence lasted only a moment.
‘Okay!’ He rubbed his hands together like he was ready to get stuck in. ‘Where’s this window you were so desperate to spy through?’
With a healthy dose of side-eye, she led the way around the side of the house and stopped beneath the kitchen window. Then she turned to face him, arms crossed, hip cocked, and waited.
He looked her up and down as he joined her, as if he couldn’t quite believe her sass—which, to be fair, neither could she.
Then he glanced up at the window and immediately down at the crates, which still lay where they’d fallen after she’d tumbled from them yesterday.
Arching a brow, Noah gave her a stern look, then turned without a word and disappeared in the direction they’d come from.
Beth was still trying to decide whether she was meant to wait or follow him when he returned with a ladder perched on his shoulder. He made carrying it seem easy, which was, quite frankly, annoying and impossible not to notice.
She made a concerted effort but got distracted when he hoisted it from his person, his biceps bunching with the movement, the material of his navy T-shirt stretching around the muscles.
And, holy cow, when he looked her straight in the eye and kicked the ladder’s legs wide with the finesse of a man who’d done it a thousand times, she physically had to restrain herself from lifting a hand to fan her face.
He tested the ladder’s stability, giving it a violent shake and ensuring its feet were wedged firmly into the sand.
Then he had the gall to give her a measured look, as if to say: See?
This is how a sensible person raises themself off the ground to peer through a window so high it practically touches the clouds.
Then, and only then, did he climb the rungs.
While he was occupied with peering through the window, his face pressed up against the glass, she took the opportunity to drop her cool facade.
Tearing her gaze from his back and shoulders—No!
Don’t stare at his jean-clad butt!—she took a deep breath, puffing out her cheeks and slowly expelling the air from her lungs as she frantically waved her good hand in front of her face.
What the hell had gotten into her? Was this how you were supposed to feel when you flirted with someone?
Were they even flirting? Or did he truly think she was an imbecile for climbing those crates?
Could it be both? Why was it so damn hot outside today?
‘I can see you, you know.’
Her head whipped up and she guiltily shoved both hands behind her back, except Noah still had his back turned towards her. How could he see her if he was staring through the—No. Scratch that. He was staring at the glass. Or, more specifically, at her reflection.
Now, she put one hand on her hip. ‘Aren’t you meant to be assessing the damage? What am I even paying you for?’
‘You’re not paying me,’ he answered calmly and stepped off the ladder.
‘Yes, I am.’ They hadn’t discussed it, but there was no way in hell she’d let him work for her for free. She wasn’t in the habit of indenturing slaves.
He kicked the ladder closed and laid it down on the ground, then stepped close to her, so close she could feel the heat radiating off his body. She didn’t back up, though, because she was Little Miss Risk Taker.
Ocean blue eyes bore into hers. ‘No,’ he said, the deep yet soft tone of his voice making her toes curl.
Held captive by his hypnotic stare, she breathed a sigh of relief when his gaze dropped, releasing her—except he let it travel over her face, her neck and lower, to her chest, which, to her mortification, heaved with every breath she took.
Finally, his eyes met hers once more, then he leaned closer still, making her breath hitch, and his mouth ended up somewhere near her ear.
‘You’re not,’ he finished, clearly enunciating the T, the crisp sound reverberating in her ear drum and freeing her from her trance.
Thankfully, he didn’t seem to have noticed that she was mere seconds away from collapsing because he’d turned and was currently loping around the corner.
Yep, they were definitely flirting. And if they weren’t, she pitied any woman he did decide to flirt with.
Now that he was out of sight, though, all her bravado was gone and she was terrified of facing him again.
Gah, she didn’t know how to do this! She couldn’t.
She was totally clueless and would only end up making a fool of herself.
Noah poked his head round the corner. ‘You coming or what?’
‘Yeah, yeah,’ she huffed. ‘Hold your horses!’
As she stomped after him, she resolved to discuss the non-negotiable issue of payment at a later stage, one that wasn’t fuelled with so much tension and … burning thirst.
When she joined him, though, she noticed a change in his demeanour.
He stared up at the house, his brow furrowed and the tip of his tongue poking from the corner of his mouth.
Beth looked in the same direction, trying to gauge what he was thinking, but there was nothing particularly interesting about what she saw—just a brick wall, some windows and a porch that led to the laundry.
Before she could enquire if something was wrong, Noah spun around to face the empty field behind them.
She stared at his profile, distracted by the strength of his jawline, then cleared her throat and attempted to remind him, and herself, why they were there.
‘Um—’ she lifted a finger and jabbed it towards the house, ‘—you know we’re here to discuss fixing this, right?’
He let out a long-suffering sigh. ‘Just turn around.’
When she took too long to act, he grabbed her shoulders and spun her.
‘What are we looking at?’ she asked. ‘You know, besides grass.’
He pointed into the distance. ‘See those trees?’
Assuming he meant the tree line at the bottom of the gently sloping field, she nodded. ‘Yeah, I see them.’
‘That’s the boundary of your property. And behind those trees—’ he rubbed his chin, making it clear he was simply thinking out loud, ‘—is the Blackwood River.’
He turned to face the house again and this time she followed, intrigued. Because, honestly, she was starting to feel like an observer, a fly on the wall in the studio of a master at work.
‘Talk me through the floor plan of this place,’ he said, crossing his arms and tucking his hands in his armpits.
After she’d described the internal layout, he glanced over his shoulder towards the tree line and the river beyond.
‘Hmm …’
‘Oh, for goodness’ sake! Will you just tell me what you’re thinking?’
When he grinned and gifted her a victorious wink, she realised she’d been duped. He’d been stringing her along on purpose, just to annoy her. Infuriating man!
‘Right,’ he said, suddenly all business.
‘Let’s go out on a limb and say there’s nothing wrong with the foundations and that it was water damage that caused the ceiling to collapse.
If that’s what we’re working with, then the way I see it is you’ve got two options.
With option one, the best case scenario is that we fix the leak, repair the ceiling and replace the insulation.
Worst case, we’ll need to do all that, plus treat the timber for dry rot and replace a few of the joists and trusses if they’re too far gone. ’
‘Okay.’ Beth nodded, certain she was following. ‘And option two?’
‘Option two is that you go for a light and airy feel.’
She waited for the rest, but he failed to deliver.
‘And by light and airy,’ she prompted, ‘you mean … remove the roof and ceiling altogether?’
He looked down at her, his face deadpan. ‘Ha. Funny. But no.’
She wanted to throttle him, but that was when he got animated.
He pointed to the left and his eyes lit up.
‘Imagine this. Relocate the laundry to allow for an open-plan living area—’ he swept both arms wide, ‘—then knock out the back wall and extend. Put in floor-to-ceiling windows. Maybe some bi-fold doors. Build a huge covered deck, right where we’re standing, creating an outdoor living space that’ll give you an incredible view of the river.
And to the side, add on a new master suite, again with a huge window so that every morning—’ he turned and lifted his arms, encompassing the entirety of the panoramic outlook before him, ‘—you wake up to this.’
She stared at him, her jaw slack, and realised that, at some point, goosebumps had erupted over her body.
Now, lifting her hands and pressing them to her cheeks, she shook her head in disbelief, her gaze flitting from the house to the view behind them and back again.
Noah had, in less than a minute, painted a picture she never could have imagined.
And she wanted it. She wanted all of it.
‘How long would option two take?’
Noah furrowed his brow, appearing as if he were doing a few quick calculations. ‘My guess is anywhere from about six to nine months, a bit longer if we run into any road blocks.’
‘And option one?’
He glanced back at the house. ‘Couple of weeks. A few months at most.’
Gnawing on her lip, she considered each scenario. She could go for option one, give the place a bare-minimum facelift, sell it as soon as she’d claimed her inheritance, then head back to Townsville and purchase the cottage.
Or—and, already, ideas were jumping out at her and stirring up a flight of excited butterflies in her belly—she could go for option two.
With the cash she was set to inherit and the house as a valuable asset, she’d surely have no issues applying for a home loan to purchase the cottage.
Then, once the renovations here were finished, she could sell for a more sizeable profit, which she could then use to pay off the loan.
Or … maybe she could keep the place. Rent it out on Airbnb.
With a large deck and a view of the river, it’d make a sweet country getaway.
She looked up at Noah, her mouth stretching wide in a grin she was powerless to contain. ‘Let’s do it.’
His eyes widened. ‘Option two?’
She nodded. ‘Option two!’
‘Yeah.’ He pumped both hands in victory. ‘Nailed it.’
‘You did, Noah. You really did.’ She allowed him a moment of triumph before turning for the front yard. ‘Now, let’s discuss your fee.’