stairs. The cool was a welcome relief from the heat of the attic.
Working around two other jobs, he’d managed to rewire and insulate Emily’s third story in just over a week. Determined to convince her to put the wrecking ball away and stick her money into new fixtures and cabinets, he’d dedicated his few spare moments to drawing up plans.
Emily wanted to get involved, so he’d suggested she refinish the corner cupboard in the kitchen. The rest of the cabinets had been installed in the fifties or sixties. They had to go, but she’d grudgingly agreed to give this one original piece a second chance. She’d been on her knees, totally engrossed in sanding when he’d peeked in a moment ago. Whether or not she admitted it, she was enjoying the job.
The woman would learn to appreciate history if it killed him.
He dropped the boards and aimed his worklights at the shelves. He’d cut half a dozen braces when he heard halting steps behind him. Emily held out a glass of iced tea.
He took the glass. “Thank you. How’s it coming?”
She shrugged. “It’s coming.”
Hands on hips, Jake studied her. Something about her tone sounded fakely bored. He waited.
The tiniest of smiles snuck across perfectly bowed lips. “I know what you’re up to.” One finger wagged at him. “You’re hoping that cupboard and I have a bonding moment.”
“And? Are you?”
She looked away. “I will admit it has potential.”
“That’s always the first step in a relationship.” Jake took a deep draught of tea and watched as the comment sank in and her right eyebrow disappeared behind a lock of hair. “Good tea.” He set the glass on the ledge under the window.
“Anything I can do to help down here?”
“Sure. An extra set of”—
pale, smooth
—“hands would be a help. Grab that board.”
With an almost masked grimace, she picked it up and handed it to him.
Jake considered pretending he hadn’t noticed, but he wasn’t all that good at pretending. “Should you be doing that? If it hurts, don’t—”
“I’m just stiff from being in one position too long. I loosen up if I move.” She looked away. “I was in a skiing accident a year and a half ago. I’m basically recovered, just not as graceful as I once was.”
Now what was a guy supposed to say to that? He mimicked her eyebrow arch. “You used to be graceful?”
Her eyes glittered, lit by an actual smile. “I used to glide across the dance floor. Graceful as a swan.” Her arms lifted straight out, moving fluidly like soft waves.
Jake swallowed hard. What she’d intended as a goofy shtick mesmerized him. He managed a laugh. And managed not to tell her she was beautiful.
She put her hands on her hips. Every time she did that he had the impression she hadn’t always been the timid woman she appeared to be now. Her head tilted, giving him a new angle from which to appraise her chin. He’d always thought “heart-shaped” was a strange way to describe a face. Until now.
“I have a confession.” She rested a fingertip on her chin. As if he needed it pointed out. “A concession.”
He couldn’t help the grin. “You’re keeping the dining room wall.”
“Not a chance. But—I want to keep the old windows. The glass, anyway. Is that possible—to replace the frames but keep the old glass?”
“Of course.” His grin morphed to a smirk.
“Don’t go getting your hopes up. I’m not caving. I’m refining my vision.”
“Whatever you want to call it.”
“You’ve got to be the only remodeler in the country who has to be begged to do more extensive work. My vision makes you money.”
He turned toward the shelf. “Oh, I’ll make money off you. Don’t you worry about that.” He picked up a hammer. “I started working on some ideas last night.”
“I’m hearing the
cha-ching
already.”
“That’s the sound of quality
Working around two other jobs, he’d managed to rewire and insulate Emily’s third story in just over a week. Determined to convince her to put the wrecking ball away and stick her money into new fixtures and cabinets, he’d dedicated his few spare moments to drawing up plans.
Emily wanted to get involved, so he’d suggested she refinish the corner cupboard in the kitchen. The rest of the cabinets had been installed in the fifties or sixties. They had to go, but she’d grudgingly agreed to give this one original piece a second chance. She’d been on her knees, totally engrossed in sanding when he’d peeked in a moment ago. Whether or not she admitted it, she was enjoying the job.
The woman would learn to appreciate history if it killed him.
He dropped the boards and aimed his worklights at the shelves. He’d cut half a dozen braces when he heard halting steps behind him. Emily held out a glass of iced tea.
He took the glass. “Thank you. How’s it coming?”
She shrugged. “It’s coming.”
Hands on hips, Jake studied her. Something about her tone sounded fakely bored. He waited.
The tiniest of smiles snuck across perfectly bowed lips. “I know what you’re up to.” One finger wagged at him. “You’re hoping that cupboard and I have a bonding moment.”
“And? Are you?”
She looked away. “I will admit it has potential.”
“That’s always the first step in a relationship.” Jake took a deep draught of tea and watched as the comment sank in and her right eyebrow disappeared behind a lock of hair. “Good tea.” He set the glass on the ledge under the window.
“Anything I can do to help down here?”
“Sure. An extra set of”—
pale, smooth
—“hands would be a help. Grab that board.”
With an almost masked grimace, she picked it up and handed it to him.
Jake considered pretending he hadn’t noticed, but he wasn’t all that good at pretending. “Should you be doing that? If it hurts, don’t—”
“I’m just stiff from being in one position too long. I loosen up if I move.” She looked away. “I was in a skiing accident a year and a half ago. I’m basically recovered, just not as graceful as I once was.”
Now what was a guy supposed to say to that? He mimicked her eyebrow arch. “You used to be graceful?”
Her eyes glittered, lit by an actual smile. “I used to glide across the dance floor. Graceful as a swan.” Her arms lifted straight out, moving fluidly like soft waves.
Jake swallowed hard. What she’d intended as a goofy shtick mesmerized him. He managed a laugh. And managed not to tell her she was beautiful.
She put her hands on her hips. Every time she did that he had the impression she hadn’t always been the timid woman she appeared to be now. Her head tilted, giving him a new angle from which to appraise her chin. He’d always thought “heart-shaped” was a strange way to describe a face. Until now.
“I have a confession.” She rested a fingertip on her chin. As if he needed it pointed out. “A concession.”
He couldn’t help the grin. “You’re keeping the dining room wall.”
“Not a chance. But—I want to keep the old windows. The glass, anyway. Is that possible—to replace the frames but keep the old glass?”
“Of course.” His grin morphed to a smirk.
“Don’t go getting your hopes up. I’m not caving. I’m refining my vision.”
“Whatever you want to call it.”
“You’ve got to be the only remodeler in the country who has to be begged to do more extensive work. My vision makes you money.”
He turned toward the shelf. “Oh, I’ll make money off you. Don’t you worry about that.” He picked up a hammer. “I started working on some ideas last night.”
“I’m hearing the
cha-ching
already.”
“That’s the sound of quality
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