Chapter 2 #2
“Yeah, why?” I drop my smile.
Please don’t be like everyone else. I can’t handle more people treating me the same way my family and friends do.
They think I’m crazy for taking on a remodel of this magnitude.
It infuriates me that they think so little of me.
I can’t start out my new life in Watercress Falls having the locals think that way about me as well.
Rather than let my frustration get the best of me, I decide to make a joke out of it. With my hands on my hips, I give him my best teasing grin. “You’re not a serial killer or some crazed stalker who’s going to make my life a living hell now that you know I’m here alone, are you?”
He lets out a deep laugh that stirs my insides. “Lord help me if I was. My momma would skin me alive and feed me to the pigs.”
“Scared of your momma, huh?” I force a smile at the mention of his mom because it makes me think of mine. She’s the last person I want to think about right now.
“You better believe it.” His eyes brighten, and I hope that means he didn’t pick up on my fake smile.
The gleam in his eyes screams the same kind of honesty I’d come to expect from a good southern man raised with respect and a solid work ethic.
He’ll probably be just as invested in this project as I am, and that’s exactly the kind of contractor I want.
He glances back at me after seeing the piles of boxes. “How long have you been here?”
“Just a few days.” My shoulders slump on a sigh. “I thought I’d be here a week earlier and have all this organized before meeting with you, but …”
I shouldn’t let it bother me, but I hate for others to see my messy life.
It doesn’t matter how out of control things get, I never let anyone see me fall apart.
Even after the accident that left me alone and completely heartbroken, the only person I let see me crumble was Elizabeth.
We fell apart together and then picked each other back up and found a new normal.
It’s easier for Elizabeth than me. She’s young and has her whole life ahead of her. One day she’ll find someone to love who loves her back and who’ll spend the rest of his life making her happy.
But me, I’ve resigned to spending the rest of my life alone. I couldn’t possibly expect to find a love like what I shared with Mark again.
“Moves never go as smoothly as planned.” Adam’s eyes hold a hint of concern as he watches me.
“I guess not.” I shrug. I had no control over the delay, but I worry about it anyway. “Still, I had hoped to be more organized and prepared a plan of my goals for this place before we met.”
“There’s time for that.” He smiles. That’s when I notice the pastry box in his hands. His left hand with no ring. His gaze follows mine. “The pastries you saved. They’re actually for you.”
He hands me the box, and I scold myself for even noticing he wasn’t wearing a ring. His marital status is none of my concern. “Thank you. You didn’t have to do this, but I appreciate it all the same. I put on a pot of coffee right before you arrived. Shall we tour the chalet first and then sit?”
“Lead the way.” His expression shifts from the friendly greeting to full-on business mode. It’s time to work, and he means business. Another quality I like about him.
“Let me set these down, then I’ll show you around.” I turn toward the kitchen and trip over a small box by the wall. Leave it to me to find the one thing in my path. I hold on tight to the pastries, refusing to drop them. I saved them once already today, and I’d save them again.
I tumble forward, certain I’m going to fall to my knees, but Adam’s strong arms wrap around my waist and pull me to him.
His grip is tight, and my back is pressed against his chest. It’s been two years since I felt a man’s body against mine, and I’ve felt this man’s body twice in one day. I’d forgotten how much I like it.
When I turn my head, his face is only inches from mine. His eyes drift to my mouth and I suck in a breath.
“Told you I’m a klutz.” The words come out breathy and shaky.
“That you did.” The gravelly tone of his voice vibrates throughout my body. From the way his eyes darken, I’m sure he’s going to kiss me. In some weird way, I want him to. But I’m not ready for that. I’ve not yet let myself heal from the death of my husband.
I clear my throat, and he loosens his hold. “Thanks. Let’s try this again. I’ll just leave these right here before I ruin them.”
I place the pastries on a small table in the foyer and take a deep breath. “Let's get started.”
“Yes, let's,” he whispers.
I watch closely as he tucks his hands into fists at his side. Did I just see his hands tremble? I shake my head and start into the main room. Whatever I’m feeling has to be a fluke or my imagination. There’s no way he feels this, too.
He follows me as I lead the way to each room. Thankfully, I don’t trip on anything else. The air between us calms, and the nervousness I felt when I opened the door settles. We fall into comfortable conversations about the renovation as we walk through the house.
I’ve been through this process twice before.
My husband and I remodeled two homes during our marriage, and I took the lead on both those projects.
Adam is surprised by my knowledge on home remodeling, and I’m pleased with his openness to include me in the decision-making process.
The last contractor I worked with wasn’t as open, and I spent more time arguing with him than getting the job done.
We start with the main floor which consists of the kitchen, dining room, a large open living room plus a family room, three bathrooms, and a couple large open rooms toward the back of the house.
There’s also a huge study with a vaulted two-story ceiling that I can’t wait to fill with my books.
The study is the room that sold me on this chalet.
It will make a perfect writing library with its scenic views of the Rocky Mountains.
I can’t wait to set up my desk close to the window and get back to work.
I haven’t written a single word in two weeks, and I’m starting to get nervous about my deadlines.
Adam asks a lot of questions as we move through the house.
I sense he wants to ask me why I bought such a large home when it’s just me.
Whatever he’s thinking, he never voices it, but I can see the question burning in his eyes.
Instead he asks, how do I intend to use the space?
What design features would I like to include?
Do I want to stick to the historical design of the chalet or add some modern flair?
The second floor has six large bedrooms and two bathrooms, plus the en suite in the master bedroom.
Each bedroom is large enough to hold two queen beds, a dresser, and a desk.
It’s more space than I need, but I hope to host writing retreats and workshops for authors one day. These rooms will be perfect.
We head back downstairs and stop in the kitchen. Adam sits at the small table while I pour the coffee. “I know it’s a lot of work, and it’ll take some time, but I do have a priority list.”
“It is, but the time it takes is largely dependent on your budget.” He accepts the mug I offer him and takes a sip. “Damn, this is good. You’re going to give Rachel a run for her money.”
I laugh and grab two plates. “Well, it’s brewed from her beans. Sweet Cakes is the only place I could find whole bean coffee.”
“Is that the secret? Maybe that’s why my coffee tastes like shit.” He smiles and opens the box of pastries. “I hope you like chocolate croissants.”
“Are you kidding? They're my favorite.” I avoided the pastries when I stopped by Sweet Cakes this morning, but there’s no way I can resist eating one now. I take a big bite and moan as the butter and chocolate melt in my mouth. “Wow. These are good.”
“Rachel’s croissants are the best.” His eyes dance as he watches me take another bite.
“Well, you can bring me one of these any time you want. Guaranteed entry through my front door.”
That earns me a hearty laugh. His eyes meet mine, and a tingling sensation hits me in the chest. He’s certainly attractive and my body responds to him in ways I’m not used to, but there’s also something familiar about him. Almost like we’ve met before, but I know that isn’t it.
I like Adam, and my gut tells me I can trust him. And my gut has never led me astray. He’ll do a great job should he choose to take on this project. All that’s left is for him to agree to it. “What do you think? Can you take on a job like this?”
“I can certainly do it. This house has great bones. The flooring is in great condition.” He takes another sip of his coffee and glances around the kitchen. “The real question is your budget. How much are you willing to spend?”
I crinkle my nose and give it a wiggle. “That’s a tough question to answer.
Money is not an issue. I’ve got the money, but I don’t want to go crazy and spend a fortune.
Yet, I also want to do it right. There will be some things I won’t want to compromise on, like this kitchen, but there are other things I will.
I may not know what those are until we get started.
Plus, I want to preserve as much of the historical design and materials as possible.
There are the critical upgrades like the electrical, a furnace, and the fireplaces that have to be fixed no matter the budget.
Do you think we could start with an estimate for those items plus the kitchen and one downstairs bathroom? ”
He crosses his arms over his chest, and I catch a glimpse of a tattoo on his arm where his shirt sleeve is rolled up. I see the hint of what looks like an infinity sign with a vine wrapped around it. There are words, but I can’t see enough to know what it says. “You willing to gut this kitchen?”
I pull my eyes off his arm. He’s watching me with a raised brow. I turn away and grab some napkins for no other reason than to hide the blush I’m certain colors my cheeks. He’s caught me staring at his body more than once this morning.
I wipe my mouth before I answer him. “Gutting this kitchen is a must. I cannot cook under these conditions. I want a top-of-the-line gourmet kitchen that fits the original theme of the chalet. That’s going to cost me, and I know it. I just hope my wish list doesn’t scare you away.”
He takes a sip of his coffee and leans back in his chair. “The only thing that will scare me is a non-existent budget. If you’ve got the money, I can do whatever you want.”
“I’ve got the money.” I tense, waiting for his response.
He smiles and takes another sip of coffee. “Then I’d be happy to work with you to restore this gem.”
“Good.” I reach out and offer him my hand. His large fingers wrap around mine, and my heart flutters. Excitement washes over me from the warmth and strength of his hand around mine.
Hope blooms within my chest. I have an architect willing to turn this chalet into my dream home.
My gaze sweeps over Adam, and I bite my lip.
I may be getting my dream home, but I also seem to be getting an unexpected bonus.
One I’m not sure I want—a serious crush on the man I just hired.
And I have no idea what to do with that.
This project will likely take months. With nowhere else to go, I’ll be living here during every step of the remodel.
Crushing on my architect is not something I expected.
And it's not something I should be feeling. I’m still mourning my husband.
Surely, I’ll get over it once we settle into a routine.
In the meantime, I don’t guess it’ll hurt to allow myself to fantasize about him. Maybe that will take my mind off how much my real life is anything but ideal.