Desired in December (Spring River Valley Book 12) by Clarice Wynter
Authors: Clarice Wynter
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running a shop like this is going to take a lot of time. I hope he’s not the type who needs a lot of attention because you’re going to be really busy.”
“He’s not…the type—he’s…very independent.”
“So he’s not around much?” James already hated this guy.
Cassie scoffed. “That’s not what independent means. Of course he’s around…a lot. He just isn’t…needy. He’ll be fine.”
“What does he do? For a living?” When James turned back to face her, she was gaping, doing that fish-out-of-water face she made when she was rattled. He took her hesitation to mean Mr. Boyfriend didn’t have a great job.
“He’s…he works at—”
An insistent knock on the glass of the front door startled them both, and Cassie practically flew across the room to open it. Two men in gray overalls marched in. They were from the disposal company Mr. Walkowski had hired to clear out the debris from the demolition.
“What’re we taking?” one of them asked while the other pulled on a pair of work gloves similar to the ones James wore. He directed them to the pile s of wood, torn linoleum, and plates of glass that had to go, his conversation with Cassie forgotten when she disappeared wordlessly into the back room.
* * * *
Cleanup took over an hour and by then the new counters had arrived. James supervised the delivery along with signing for two loads of tile for the floor and six buckets of paint. Mr. Walkowski arrived mid-afternoon and spent a long time with Cassie going over placement of the counters and the schedule for the flooring. When they’d ironed everything out, he asked James to help with the tiling and painting after the electrical work needed for the refrigeration units was complete. Of course he couldn’t say no. A job was a job, but he had the distinct impression Cassie would have been relieved if he left the construction work to others.
When everyone else left and he’d collected all the packing materials from the new counters for disposal, he wandered into the back room where she’d gone, he assumed, to hide out from him. He almost expected to find her with her head in the oven again, but now she was holed up in the small restroom, cleaning it, he decided based on the sounds of mopping and running water.
James was done for the day, but he didn’t want to leave without saying something, so he waited, filling his time by inspecting the kitchen, which sparkled now that she’d spent the better part of two days cleaning it. The huge wicker basket she’d brought with her this morning sat on one of the countertops, a red-checkered cloth spilling over the side.
After a guilty glance at the restroom door, he decided to snoop. He was starving, and though his mother had vowed several dozen times since his return to fatten him up for the holidays, he couldn’t resist spoiling the home-cooked dinner that would be waiting for him by swiping an authentic Buttons and Bows cookie or two. The desserts Cassie had made for his party had surpassed everyone’s expectations, so he knew he was in for a taste of heaven.
He found everything wrapped in cellophane bags and tied with red gingham ribbons. The remains of her samples included what looked like a corn muffin, a red velvet cupcake, a few chocolate biscotti and a bag of oatmeal cookies, his favorite. While she sloshed and scrubbed in the bathroom, he carefully untied the ribbon from the bag of cookies and removed one with the skill of a master thief.
They smelled divine, and the first crunchy bite was rapture. He had a third cookie half eaten when she tapped him on the shoulder.
“ Hmpf?,” he said through cookie crumbs. “Theeth are weally gooth.”
“I know, right?” Her brilliant smile gave him hope that he wouldn’t be in too much trouble for pilfering.
He nodded, munching happily. “The bethst.”
“Thanks. They’re organic dog biscuits. Can you taste the alfalfa?”
His explosive cough sprayed crumbs everywhere.
“He’s not…the type—he’s…very independent.”
“So he’s not around much?” James already hated this guy.
Cassie scoffed. “That’s not what independent means. Of course he’s around…a lot. He just isn’t…needy. He’ll be fine.”
“What does he do? For a living?” When James turned back to face her, she was gaping, doing that fish-out-of-water face she made when she was rattled. He took her hesitation to mean Mr. Boyfriend didn’t have a great job.
“He’s…he works at—”
An insistent knock on the glass of the front door startled them both, and Cassie practically flew across the room to open it. Two men in gray overalls marched in. They were from the disposal company Mr. Walkowski had hired to clear out the debris from the demolition.
“What’re we taking?” one of them asked while the other pulled on a pair of work gloves similar to the ones James wore. He directed them to the pile s of wood, torn linoleum, and plates of glass that had to go, his conversation with Cassie forgotten when she disappeared wordlessly into the back room.
* * * *
Cleanup took over an hour and by then the new counters had arrived. James supervised the delivery along with signing for two loads of tile for the floor and six buckets of paint. Mr. Walkowski arrived mid-afternoon and spent a long time with Cassie going over placement of the counters and the schedule for the flooring. When they’d ironed everything out, he asked James to help with the tiling and painting after the electrical work needed for the refrigeration units was complete. Of course he couldn’t say no. A job was a job, but he had the distinct impression Cassie would have been relieved if he left the construction work to others.
When everyone else left and he’d collected all the packing materials from the new counters for disposal, he wandered into the back room where she’d gone, he assumed, to hide out from him. He almost expected to find her with her head in the oven again, but now she was holed up in the small restroom, cleaning it, he decided based on the sounds of mopping and running water.
James was done for the day, but he didn’t want to leave without saying something, so he waited, filling his time by inspecting the kitchen, which sparkled now that she’d spent the better part of two days cleaning it. The huge wicker basket she’d brought with her this morning sat on one of the countertops, a red-checkered cloth spilling over the side.
After a guilty glance at the restroom door, he decided to snoop. He was starving, and though his mother had vowed several dozen times since his return to fatten him up for the holidays, he couldn’t resist spoiling the home-cooked dinner that would be waiting for him by swiping an authentic Buttons and Bows cookie or two. The desserts Cassie had made for his party had surpassed everyone’s expectations, so he knew he was in for a taste of heaven.
He found everything wrapped in cellophane bags and tied with red gingham ribbons. The remains of her samples included what looked like a corn muffin, a red velvet cupcake, a few chocolate biscotti and a bag of oatmeal cookies, his favorite. While she sloshed and scrubbed in the bathroom, he carefully untied the ribbon from the bag of cookies and removed one with the skill of a master thief.
They smelled divine, and the first crunchy bite was rapture. He had a third cookie half eaten when she tapped him on the shoulder.
“ Hmpf?,” he said through cookie crumbs. “Theeth are weally gooth.”
“I know, right?” Her brilliant smile gave him hope that he wouldn’t be in too much trouble for pilfering.
He nodded, munching happily. “The bethst.”
“Thanks. They’re organic dog biscuits. Can you taste the alfalfa?”
His explosive cough sprayed crumbs everywhere.
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