Christmas at Candlebark Farm by Michelle Douglas Page B

knew she did—he could smell her, sense her. His hands clenched. It suddenly occurred to him that forewarned didn’t necessarily mean forearmed.
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    Keira couldn’t believe how easy it was to get the key from the agency. To her utter shame, it hadn’t occurred to her to request it earlier. Although she knew she had every right to the key,some inner instinct had warned her the agent would do his best to block her, find excuses for why she couldn’t have it.
    Nothing doing—it was a piece of cake! The receptionist took one look at Luke, and Keira swore the poor woman literally started to shake. She’d handed the key over without a murmur.
    It had taken a considerable effort not to burst out laughing. So Luke obviously had a reputation for being difficult, huh? If the agency hadn’t worked out yet that his bark was worse then his bite then far be it from her to set them straight. And while she was more than capable of standing up for herself—an independent woman, a strong woman following in the tradition of her mother and grandmother—she had to admit that Luke’s reassuring bulk was a decided comfort.
    Luke’s face grew grimmer, however, when they pulled to a halt outside a long metal building. ‘This is John’s workshop.’
    She unclipped her seatbelt. ‘You said you went to school with him?’
    â€˜Yeah—John Peterson. He’s a good guy. Whatever he tells us, we can take it as gospel.’
    â€˜Good.’ She paused in the act of opening her door. Luke hadn’t moved. ‘So what are we waiting for?’
    He shook himself. ‘Nothing.’
    She followed him into the small office at the front of the building. The whirr and buzz of machinery, hammering and sawing, sounded from beyond the partitioned wall, but the office itself was empty.
    Keira reached around Luke, who stood frozen, to ring the bell. Almost immediately a barrel-chested bear of a man strode in. He stopped short when he saw Luke.
    Oh, dear. Keira bit her lip. Obviously someone else who considered Luke difficult.
    But then the tanned face broke into a broad grin and hemoved forward with hand outstretched. ‘Luke, it’s good to see you! Haven’t seen your ugly mug around for a while.’
    Luke looked as if he wanted to run, but he held his ground and shook the man’s hand. ‘Notice you haven’t got any prettier since the last time I saw you, Peterson.’
    The riposte looked as if it had taken John as off guard as it had her. The other man, though, just threw his head back and laughed. He clapped Luke on the back. ‘What can I do for you?’
    â€˜This is Keira.’ Luke ushered her forward. ‘She’s my…guest at the moment.’
    Keira took pity on him. ‘Lodger,’ she explained, shaking John’s hand too.
    â€˜Keira’s inherited a house in town. She’s been given a quote for some work that needs doing, but she’d like a second opinion.’
    Luke pulled out her quote from his shirt pocket and handed it across to John. She saw the way John’s lips tightened when he glanced at the letterhead. She also noted the look the two men exchanged.
    â€˜I thought you might be able to help.’
    â€˜I’d be glad to.’ John glanced at his watch. ‘If you aren’t busy, I’ve half an hour to spare now…’
    â€˜That’s what I was hoping you’d say.’ Luke smiled. That same smile that had almost knocked her sideways off the kitchen chair earlier.
    He should do that more often—smile—it made him look younger. Like thirty-three rather than close to forty, where she’d fixed him.
    â€˜Will that work for you?’
    She blinked and realised he was addressing her. ‘Oh, yes! That’s perfect.’
    She gave John the address, and they arranged to meet there in five minutes.
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    John crouched down to peer under the house, the beam of his