Cowboy in the Kitchen by Mae Nunn Page A

exactly build a barn. He may have put a few country touches here and there. But as with the saloon doors and the kitchen pantry, every part of the outdoors that he brought inside has its own story. Capitalize on that, don’t plow it under like last year’s soybean crop.”
    She released a heavy sigh. “You’re right. I’m just so caught up in my preconceived notion of how Moore House would appear that anything beyond my mental image becomes a threat.”
    “I don’t expect you to change what you have in mind. I’m only asking that you give more consideration to the details before you toss them out as unimportant.”
    “Throwing out the baby with the bathwater,” she mused.
    “Precisely.”
    Gillian stepped forward, more boldly than she was on the inside. She laid a hand on the forearm that Hunt still held crossed against his body. Her fingers pressed gently on the warm skin and his muscle tensed beneath her touch.
    “Thank you, Hunt.”
    “For what?”
    “For caring enough about the future of this place to prevent me from shooting myself in the foot. It would be easy for you to stand by and let me make mistakes, wait for me to fail and then clean up after me for a fraction of my investment.”
    “Hmm.” He pressed his lips together in a thin line. “Now that you mention it...”
    Gillian jerked her hand free of the personal contact, made a fist and jabbed Hunt hard in the biceps.
    “Ouch!” He buffed his palm against the spot where she’d landed her punch. “You hit like a guy.”
    “Thank you. I’ll treat that as a compliment.”
    “Treat this the same way.”
    Hunt placed his palms on Gillian’s shoulders, slid his hands down to her forearms, gently gripped her elbows and tugged her to his chest. She should resist, but she didn’t. She leaned into him, and his body was warm against hers. She tipped her head back so she could see his face. His eyes were closed as he lowered his mouth to hers. He gave her a lingering but tender kiss and then released her from his hold.
    She stepped away, embarrassed that she’d allowed the intimacy, and confused about why he’d taken the liberty.
    The aggravating man smiled.
    “Well, now that we’ve kissed and made up, how about if you show me all the woodwork details you talked over with Karl today, so I can help make sense out of his bid when it’s delivered?”
    She studied his lips as he spoke. If that was a make-up kiss, then his grudge kiss must be spectacular.
    Could the man who’d been quasi-hostile to her only days before now become a respected, even enjoyable guide on this journey?
    She’d been suspicious of him up until now, but perhaps it was time to find out.

CHAPTER SEVEN
    “T HIS WAITING IS driving me up the wall!” Gillian stated.
    Hunt reached for the French press and filled their cups. Gillian sat across the kitchen table from him, a pen wiggling nervously above her ever-present spiral notebook. Coffee in Cullen’s kitchen had become Gillian and Hunt’s late-morning routine since they’d declared a truce. A verbal truce, at least, though Hunt had done nothing about his intent to sidetrack the efforts of his boss. Still, guilt niggled him constantly.
    “It’s only been a couple of weeks. Did you really expect permits to be issued overnight?”
    “Evidently I did,” she admitted. “I covered so many bases in advance but never considered investigating this business of city approvals. It makes no sense that we can’t even begin demolition for minor renovations, much less break ground on new structures. What if they turn me down, Hunt?”
    “That’s not going to happen.” He tried to soothe the blond beauty whose feathers were perpetually ruffled.
    “Then why is it taking so long? Inspector Watkins said he’d do his best to hurry my applications through the process.”
    Hunt chuckled. “I doubt his idea of ‘hurry’ is the same as yours. City inspectors don’t get excited over much, apart from the occasional ice storm that