Page 39 of Winter Vows

Hardy lounged against a pile of two-by-fours and watched her. When he could stand it no longer, he asked, “Mind if I make a suggestion?”

She blinked and stared at him as if she’d just realized he was along. “Sure.”

“Buy the less expensive wood and stain it to get the effect you want. I’m assuming what you’re going for is something warm. You keep gravitating toward the cherry. A few cans of stain and a little work and you’ll have the next best thing.”

Her expression brightened. Before he realized her intention, she threw her arms around him and gave him a smacking kiss on the cheek. “You’re a genius! I want the cherry so badly I can taste it, but the cost would really eat into my budget. Do you really think the stain won’t look cheap?”

Hardy couldn’t think at all. That little kiss-andrun gesture of hers had left him reeling. All the hard work he’d done over the weekend to make himself believe that what he felt was nothing more than infatuation was wasted.

“Hardy?”

He swallowed hard. “It’ll look fine,” he assured her. “I’m sure there are samples over there with the stains, so you can get an idea of how it would look.”

“Of course,” she said, and darted off.

He drew in a deep breath and tried to reclaim his composure before he followed her to the next aisle. She was already holding up little blocks of wood and examining them this way and that. When she caught sight of him, she beamed, and his heart did another of those annoying little flips.

“Look,” she enthused. “It will work, don’t you think? You can’t tell this isn’t really cherry.”

“That’s the idea,” he pointed out. “If it didn’t work, no one would do it.”

She frowned at him. “Okay, smarty. Just order the stain and the wood,” she said, handing him the sheet with their measurements before bounding off.

“Where are you going?”

“To see about renting a sander and polisher to refinish those floors. They’re going to gleam by the time we’re done.”

Hardy seriously doubted that anything short of sandblasting would clean the grime off those floors, but he shrugged and went to order the lumber. By the time he’d finished, Trish was at the checkout counter with her own purchases, which included two huge concrete flower planters.

“What are those for?” he asked.

“On either side of the front door. I’ll fill them with different flowers, depending on the season. They’re going to deliver the potting soil with the lumber.”

Hardy had never been able to see the sense in planting and tending flowers that served no useful purpose. A garden was meant to be productive. All that work ought to result in tomatoes, peppers, corn and beans, at the very least. It was just one more difference between them. Practicality versus daydreams.

“Do you have a problem with flowers?” she asked, regarding him with amusement.

“Not on principle,” he said. “Besides, you’re the one who’s going to have to take care of them.”

“Exactly,” she said, then wrote a check for the staggering total without even batting an eye.

Even after they were in his truck, Hardy couldn’t shake his unease about the amount of money she was throwing around. “Don’t think I haven’t noticed that you’re paying as you go, just so Harlan can’t get at the bills. Are you sure you’re not spending too much on fixing the place up?”

“Absolutely not. It has to have the right atmosphere from the very beginning. You can’t make up for a poor first impression.”

Hardy wondered about that. He and Trish hadn’t exactly gotten off on the right foot, but he’d pretty much forgotten her snippy attitude, attributing it to temporary stress. Now he couldn’t seem to shake the effect of all her good points.

Of course, the same couldn’t be said for her. She’d been holding tight to her first impression of him, probably because it was getting reinforced at every turn.

“Obviously you know what you’re doing,” he said eventually. “What’s next?”

“Are there any antique shops nearby?”

“Probably downtown. That’s the historic district. I seem to recall passing a few in that area.”

“Show me,” she commanded as if he were a tour guide she’d hired for the day.

He scowled at her. “You know, darlin’, you might not have liked being the pampered baby in the family, but you seem to have developed a real fondness for behaving like a princess.”

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