Page 62 of Flippin' Cowboy
Maybe it’s time to rethink our relationship.
That felt right. Over the past month, Nick had proved over and over again that he wasn’t anything like Geoff. Especially when it came to sex. Sleeping with Nick had been a revelation.
Sure, they frequently butted heads, even after their truce, but Nick clearly respected her, even when he vehemently disagreed with her. And she couldn’t deny that she craved his hard body and his intoxicating kisses like an addict.
I guess it’s not just friends anymore. I’ve fallen for him.
“Nick,” Winnie began. “Do you want to go out for dinner after work? Just you and me?”
He looked up from studying the floorboards. His gray eyes bored into hers. “Are you asking me out on an actualdate?”
Her throat went dry. She swallowed hard.
Then the creak and squeak of porch boards behind her warned her they were no longer alone.
“Hey, this isn’t as bad as I thought,” Karla said as she entered behind Winnie. She stamped on the floor. “And the floors seem solid. Do you think you can get what you need here?”
“Yeah, but it’s a pity to rip everything out when this place could be restored,” Nick began.
Luckily, Karla recognized the signs. She cut him off before he could launch into an impassioned plea to save this house.
“Mr. Beckman’s determined to get rid of this building. He’s already hired someone to demolish it. So, take whatever you can, because next month, this place is going to be a pile of matchsticks and firewood.”
“And that’s a crime,” Nick growled in disgust.
Winnie handed him a crowbar. “Think of how many other places we can save with materials from this one.”
Nick growled again but took the crowbar from her.
She turned to Karla. “There’s lots of good stuff here. I’m going to call my brother and ask him to bring over the flatbed trailer he uses to deliver hay bales to the pastures.”
“Wait,” Karla ordered, as Nick bent to pry up the first length of quarter-sawn white oak. “Don’t start working until Jake and Nelson set up for filming. And I’d appreciate it if you repeated your conversation on camera about this being a Sears catalog house and wanting to preserve it.”
“So, you want me to be the bad guy and tell Nick we have to tear it apart, while he pleads for this poor defenseless house’s life?” Winnie asked wryly.
“Well, isn’t that the gist of the conversation we just had?” Nick asked, a wicked twinkle in his eyes belying his innocent expression.
Karla grinned mischievously at them. “Yeah, just like that! It’s been a while since we had a decent Nick-Winnie argument on camera. You guys are getting along so well these days that it’s kind of boring.” She snapped her fingers. “Don’t forget about the sparks, my friends. Weneedsparks for this show.”
∞∞∞
The sun was sinking behind the mountains in a wash of gold and tangerine when their convoy returned to The Soiled Dove Inn several hours later.
Beautiful old floorboards filled the bed of Winnie’s pickup to the brim. The crew had piled more boards from the walls in high stacks in the trailer Spring had loaned her, along with an assortment of trim, paneling, interior doors with their frames, the disassembled staircase, and the sink and original clawfoot bathtub from the upstairs bathroom.
That tub had been an absolute bitch to maneuver down the stairs, but it had been worth it. These antique tubs were popular again and the prices at salvage yards reflected it.
As she drove up to the inn, Nick interrupted his description of how he wanted to use the old tub in one of the upstairs rooms at The Soiled Dove, and asked. “Hey, didn’t everyone come with us out to Beckman’s place?”
He pointed, and Winnie noticed several of The Renovation Channel’s white production crew vans parked in the inn’s horseshoe-shaped driveway.
“Not again!” she complained.
At the beginning of the project, she’d made it very clear that the driveway was reserved for construction equipment and deliveries.
Irritated, she pulled up behind one of the vans and parked her truck at the very end of the driveway.
The guys were going to be pissed about the extra feet separating the trailer—and the enormously heavy cast-iron bathtub—from the inn’s front door.
