Page 27 of Time For You
“I have no idea. I’m still trying to come to terms with the fact that this house is in as good of shape as it is considering everything it went through and how old it is.”
Colton and I took the back hall stairs down to the kitchen area where we stepped into a butler’s pantry. It was larger than my entire apartment in New York.
“Did the contractor give you any idea on what needs to be done?” I asked as we stepped into the kitchen that looked like a tornado had spun through. Delicately, I reached out and ran my finger across the old wooden countertops. There were knicks and scratches worn into the block.
“Honestly, he said he was surprised it was still standing. It needs a lot of work, pretty much from the ground up. Plumbing, electrical, all of that needs to be upgraded. We’ll use what we can, but most of it will be taken down.”
My heart seized. Colton sounded as if the news meant he could design something brand new, tearing down what was already here. The bones of this house were good. We were standing in the middle of it, after all.
“So, what’s your plan? You going to tear it down and put some modern castle in its place? The new Crawford homestead?” I seethed in anger as I turned toward him using my trusty notebooks as my shield as I poked at his chest.
“Whoa!” he replied, clutching my finger with his hand.“What has your panties in a twist?”
Chapter Nine – Colton
When she gasped in disgruntled anger, I realized my mistake. Before I could release her finger, she used that white, plastic binder and pelted my shoulder with it. She had one hell of a swing.
“Excuse me, but you do noteverget to think about my panties.”
Well, that was all I was going to think about now.
“I’m sorry, you just caught me off guard. I spent a million dollars on this place. We both know the property isn’t worth that.”
“Then why buy it?” she asked me, her blue eyes shimmering beneath long, dark lashes.
“Because something about this house reminded me of a place I grew up. I have no intention of tearing it down unless it’s absolutely necessary, Autumn,” I said, wishing Ms. Cathy could see this place.
She remained silent, absorbing my words and deciding if I was being truthful. There was more of the house I wanted to show her, little hidden spots the contractor and I found earlier in the day, but that was going to have to wait until another time. My phone buzzed in my pocket and I explained to Autumn that I needed to head outside.
Barreling down the drive was my old teammate, Lance, who lived in Knoxville where he grew up. Behind his pickup he towed an ancient looking trailer.
“What’s that?” Autumn’s confused voice said from behind me as I stepped onto the porch.
“Where I’ll stay if I’m here while the crews are working.”
“I thought you were staying with the Chisolms.”
“Ah, so you were asking about me,” I said as I smiled down at her. She seemed annoyed as she wrapped her arms around that binder and held it tightly to her chest. I wondered what it would take to have that woman let her guard down. Or smile. I bet she had a killer grin. The kind that knocked you on your ass and took names.
Everything about her held that kind of appeal, but I needed to remind myself that I wasn’t here to be selfish. I needed to keep out of the press and figure out my next step in life. Especially with the letter I received at Brett’s house this morning. I was trying to ignore it, but I knew it was going to fester. It was the second letter I’d received in a month. My mail was being forwarded to my agent and he was sending the important ones my way. He was the only one I trusted with my whereabouts.
“I wasn’t asking about you at all. I haven’t thought about you at all this week. Mother brought it up at dinner.”
She was lying. Her eyes darted everywhere on the porch but me and she absentmindedly twisted the ring on her right hand. If I’d learned anything by being a public figure, it was that I could read people quickly.
Lance brought the old camper around back behind the house as I requested and I followed his truck’s path, Autumn dutifully trailing after.
“Is that even safe?” she whispered and I wasn’t sure if she knew she’d spoken it out loud.
“Haven’t you ever heard not to judge a book by its cover?” I asked as Lance hopped down from his truck and began unhitching the trailer.
“But. . .it’s all dingy.”
“Have a little faith.”
“Sorry,” she mumbled as I introduced her to Lance. The married father of six wrapped Autumn in his arms, surprising us both. The moment he had her tucked against him, I wanted to tug her free and pummel his face.
Fortunately, Lance couldn’t stay long and left just as quickly as he came. His wife was home with their newest addition, born just seven weeks ago, and her mother. I knew from my experience with ex-girlfriends that the mother scenario could go either way.
