Hell Yeah!: Gun Shy (Kindle Worlds Novella) (5 page)

He shrugged. Hell, he didn’t have a clue.

“No worries. You can decide later.” She rounded the butcher’s block and opened the door to the maid’s room, which was off the kitchen. “This is nice,” she murmured.

Andy nodded. “Has its own bathroom too.”

“I love it.” She grinned at him. “Shall we go upstairs?”

He nodded and led her up the back stairs to the broad hallway that ran the length of the house. The first bedroom they came to was the master, a large, airy room that, devoid of furniture and shades, seemed somehow brighter than he remembered.

“Oh, wow,” she said, heading for the windows and gazing out at the trees. “Great view.”

Andy nodded. “It’s pretty in the spring.”

“I bet. I could totally see a canopy bed with those drapes in here. A divan there by that window.” She sighed. “This room should be blue. Like robin’s-egg blue. Don’t you think?”

“Um. Sure.”

“I would rip up this old carpet and put in hardwood. Can you imagine how pretty that would be?”

It would be.

“And you could totally open this up by building a deck with French doors.” She walked into the master bathroom and frowned. “Oh. This needs work. These fixtures are so last century.”

“They would be,” he said. His father had never updated anything.

“Can you imagine a jetted tub in here? And maybe a rain shower?”

He loved the animation on her face. He loved her ideas as well. They helped him visualize something different for this house. A future that might include him. “Have you ever done something like this before? Redecorating?”

She whirled around with a laugh. “Me? Never. But I used to go through magazines and rip out the pages of things I liked.”

“Did you?”

“Yes.” She winked. “Half the fun of going to the doctor’s office.”

“I had no idea you were such a rebel.”

“Oh, I am.” She led the way back into the hall and he followed. His hip twanged but he hid his gasp as pain shot through him. “Yeah. More wood floors here,” she said. “It would totally open up the space. And this…” She stepped into the small bedroom just past the master and stilled.

“What is it?” he asked.

She shook her head. “Oh, nothing.”

He knew better. He’d only known her for a day or so and he knew better. “What?”

“This would make a perfect nursery. You could put a door between the two rooms and be right there for the baby…”

The way she trailed off caught his attention. As did the sadness in her eyes.

“Melissa?”

She shook her head and looked away, but he still saw the tears trembling on her lashes.

“What is it?”

“Nothing.” She shot him a brave smile. “Thinking of babies always chokes women up, don’t you know.”

A bald-faced lie, but he didn’t push. Whatever it was, was private and painful.

“How about this room?” he asked, leading her to the great room at the end of the hall. It had been used for storage in his father’s day, but there were so many other possibilities.

It took her a moment to recover, but she did, pretending to think. “Do you like to watch movies?”

“I do.”

“This would make an excellent media room. You could install roll-down shades so you could have complete darkness at any time. Big screen TV over there. Speakers all around the room.” She whirled in illustration, but he didn’t need that to help him visualize her idea. Her expression was enough.

They chatted about the other bedrooms, which she declared in succession should be painted yellow, salmon, ochre, and puce—some of those colors he would have to Google later—and then they headed back downstairs. He followed, somewhat behind her, because now his knee was acting up. Fortunately, she didn’t notice. They stopped in the foyer next to those dreaded double doors.

“What’s in here?” she asked, not waiting for his answer to push into the room.

It was cavernous, ominous, and full of dark shadows.

“This was my father’s office,” he said. Something in his tone must have given him away. She speared him with a considering glance.

“You and your dad were not close.”

He snorted in response. “That would be an understatement.”

“What do you think about this room?” she asked, putting the onus on him.

“We could brick it up.”

She nodded. “But that does seem like a waste of space.”

“I would do it, if it could eradicate his presence.”

“That bad, huh?”

“Yeah.”

She patted him on the arm. “I know just how you feel.” Somehow, he knew she did. She tipped her head to the side and tapped her lips in an utterly tantalizing way. “What if you painted it pink?”

He gaped at her. “Pink?” he said on a laugh.

“Was your father a pink kind of guy?”

“Um, no.” Not in the slightest.

“Well, there you go.”

“No one wants a
pink
office.”

“
I
would like a pink office.”

“No one other than a woman.”

“Well, for heaven’s sake. If you could banish your father’s spirit with a little bit of paint, why not go for it?”

Andy frowned at her. “I think my father disliked green as well.”

“Did he?”

He had no idea, but he sure as shit wasn’t painting the room
pink
. Besides, her suggestion—other than the pink part—had merit. Maybe refurbishing the house would make him feel more at ease in it. Trouble was, he had no idea how to refurbish a house.

Ah, but she did.

He turned his attention on her as an idea took form.

She frowned at him. “What?”

Oh yes. It was an excellent idea. Not only could she help him prepare the house for sale—or for him—he would be able to pay her for her services, helping her reach her goals sooner. Beyond that, it would give them a chance to spend time together. To get to know each other better.

It was an excellent idea indeed.

Chapter Five

Andrew didn’t seem inclined to spend a lot of time in the house. Melissa was pretty sure she understood why. Though he’d never come out and said why he and his father had been at odds, she wasn’t stupid. She could see it in his eyes.

There had been abuse here.

Knowing what she knew about how that made a person feel, she wouldn’t blame him if he did have the house bulldozed. But what a shame that would be. It was a beautiful house.

The barn was amazing too, though it clearly needed a lot of work.

Andrew was much more comfortable there and had lots of ideas that gave her hope he was considering staying in Kerrville.

She also got to learn more about this man and what he valued.

When he mentioned the shop in the back would make an excellent glass studio, she gaped at him.

“You do glasswork?” she asked.

He shrugged and his lips kicked up in a bashful way. “Kind of.”

“Stained glass?”

“Fusing.” And at her quizzical glance, “Bowls, platters. Stuff like that. I could install a kiln here. It’s already wired for 220. And this table is perfect for cutting. I could store my forms over there.” He waved at a shelf on the far wall.

She had no idea what he was talking about, but she loved the way his features came to life as he spoke of it.

“Do you have all that stuff in your saddlebags?” she teased. It hadn’t escaped her that he rode into town on a Harley. A man who traveled like that, traveled light.

He barked a laugh. “Nope. But I’ve done a lot of thinking about it over the years.”

“Have you?”

“Yeah. All guys do, when they’re in the field. Think about what they’re going to do when they go home.” He ran his fingers along a beam. “My buddy James was the one who introduced me to glass work. Used to drag me to the rec center where they had a kiln. We had to make small stuff, because the kiln was tiny. We always dreamed of coming home and setting up shop where we could make real artwork. Bowls and vases and such.”

“Sounds like fun.” It did…the way he spoke of it. “Where is James now?”

She regretted her question immediately. His expression darkened. “He didn’t make it home.”

“I am so sorry.”

“Yeah. Me too.”

“But I bet he’d be happy if you pursued the dream.”

“Do you think so?”

“Of course I do.”

Andrew took another look around the space, and Melissa could see the hope in his eyes. “You’re probably right,” he said.

“You should do what your heart tells you,” she said.

She wasn’t prepared for his response. His gaze whipped to her and he stared at her intently. “You wouldn’t say that if you knew what my heart is telling me now.”

She attempted to swallow the lump in her throat. “Why?”

“Because my heart is telling me to kiss you,” he said.

Oh. Holy. God. Her pulse thudded in her veins. Fear and a strange kind of excitement sluiced through her. She held her breath, waiting for him to advance on her…but he didn’t.

He reached out and cupped her cheek, though, and stroked her lips. He forced a smile. “You are very kissable, Melissa.”

Was she?

Then why the hell didn’t he kiss her?

Instead, he turned on his heel and headed back out into the sunshine. “You hungry?” he asked as they made their way to her car.

She frowned at his back, and hurried to catch up. “I could eat.”

“Any suggestions? Other than Millie’s?”

“Millie’s is good for lunch.”

“Really?”

She chuckled at his wary glance. “Hard to screw up burgers and fries.”

“Yeah, right. By the way, it’s hard to screw up eggs too.”

They both laughed.

He opened the door for her. She could tell it was simply out of habit, but it warmed something deep in her soul. He had always and ever been gentlemanly with her.

When he came around and sat in the driver’s seat, his scent surrounded her. She tried to ignore it but couldn’t. There was just something about it that called to her.

He didn’t smell like cologne or hair product, but had a raw, earthy scent that filled her with pleasure.

There was no doubt, the man was growing on her. Each moment she found him more attractive than the last.

He’d made his interest no secret.

Melissa wasn’t stupid. She realized she had a big decision to make. Because as much as the two of them talked about being
just friends
, she knew damn well there was too much chemistry between them for it to stay that way for long.

The question was, was she brave enough to risk getting in deeper with him?

Could she survive another bad decision?

She thought about the conundrum all the way back to town and Andrew seemed to sense she needed to think, because he was silent as well.

When they got to the restaurant, he kept their conversation on trivial topics, shared stories of his travels and asked her about her family and life.

Then he dropped the bomb.

“You have some interesting ideas for the house,” he said, dipping a French fry into the tartar sauce he’d requested.

She shrugged and took a bite of her burger. “It’s something I like to think about.”

“I can see that.”

“Can’t tell you how many hours I spent designing my perfect house.” Over and over again.

Dreaming, imagining the perfect life. The perfect house. The perfect husband.

Fantasy was a diverting pastime. But fantasy was all it was.

“I liked your suggestions.” He didn’t make eye contact as he said it, which made her curious. Still, she waited until he continued. “I was thinking…”

“Dangerous business, that.” A lame attempt to cut the tension.

He grinned. “Yeah, but I think you’ll like my proposal.”

Proposal?
She stilled. Her pulse kicked up. Surely he wasn’t—

“I would love to hire you to help me.”

Her jaw dropped.

Not what she’d expected.

“To help you?”

“Get the house fixed up.” He shook his head. “I have no idea how to do any of this.”

“You could hire a professional.”

“I could. But I like your ideas. And you could use the money.”

She fiddled with her napkin. Damn, it was a tempting offer. The trouble was…him. He was too attractive. Spending time with him could be dangerous. At some point, she knew she would fall for him.

She’d sworn never to do that again.

She had execrable taste in men.

He reached across the table and laid his hand on hers. So warm. She stared at it, at the contrast. His brown skin against hers. His long fingers curling around hers. With a heavy swallow, she met his blue gaze. Sank into that azure sea.

“Please?”

Shit.
How could she say no?

“I’ll think about it.”

His grin was devastating. “Great. That’s all I ask.”

Once Melissa agreed to help him with the house, Andy didn’t let any grass grow under his feet. Not that he wanted to lock her in…but he kind of did. He set up a slate of meetings around her work schedule—conveniently at mealtimes—and they began serious planning.

Also, serious eating.

It became their habit to meet in the mornings when she hadn’t had to work late and walk together to the Sunshine Café for breakfast. He was pleased to discover that she’d been right about the food there, because breakfast was his favorite meal of the day and the Sunshine excelled at breakfast.

But he enjoyed more than the food. He enjoyed those mornings with her.

They spent a lot of time going over her ideas for the house and reviewing her sketches—how had he not known she was an excellent artist?—but they talked about other things as well. Politics, about which they disagreed. Religion, about which they kind of agreed. And reality TV shows, about which they were totally on the same page.

Funny that two people, as different as they were, could both have the same perverse passion for watching train wrecks.

Aside from her excellent taste—in that it matched and melded with his seamlessly—Melissa was a dynamo once she set things in motion. She was able to help him find a home inspector and good local contractors to take care of the larger maintenance issues and the two of them focused on the interior design of the house. Andrew took on the barn himself.

As soon as the inspector cleared the house, he moved in, but damn, it was a lonely place, way out there on the range, all by himself. Since he really hadn’t officially decided to stay, it didn’t make sense to furnish the place, so he set up camp in the maid’s suite off the kitchen, sleeping on a cot and eating at the kitchen counter.

Melissa was horrified when she found out.

“You can’t sleep on a cot,” she insisted.

“I surely can. I have years of experience.”

She wrinkled her nose. “Cots are not comfortable.”

“Depends on what you’re used to.”

“Cots are…”

He didn’t like the way her expression dimmed. “What?”

“So…temporary.”

“Nothing wrong with temporary.”

“Well, I don’t like it.”

So she dragged him to a store and made him lie on a thousand mattresses until he finally picked one.

He had to admit, it was more comfortable than a cot.

It was also, he noticed, large enough for two—a realization he tried to keep on the back burner, because this was all still so new.

Oh, but she wasn’t done with him yet. Once she’d won on the mattress front, she pushed her advantage. “I don’t like to think of you out here all alone,” she said.

Neither did he.

He had the perfect solution. He could invite her to stay at the house…purely for the convenience of her work, of course.

But before he could dig up the courage to suggest it, she launched her evil plan. It became clear, her solution was not even close to his.

No. Her solution was a ball of fur.

She basically ambushed him, telling him she had an errand to run for which she needed his help. Once he was at the animal shelter, holding that wriggling ball of fluff, she attacked.

“This is Sadie,” she said, her eyes wide and somber.

“And why am I holding Sadie?” he asked. More to the point, why was Sadie peeing on him? But it was clear the puppy was so thrilled to have some attention she could barely contain herself.

Melissa shot him a sad glance. “I thought we should come by and…say goodbye.”

His heart thumped. He glanced down into those beautiful brown puppy dog eyes. “Goodbye?”

“Sadie is slated to be put to sleep because no one wants her.”

Well, hell.

He looked from Sadie to Melissa and something in his chest went all gooey and shit.

“I can’t have a dog.” A man couldn’t have a dog and be footloose. A man couldn’t have a dog and just hop on a bike and take off. A man with a dog had roots.

“You need the company. She’d be good protection.”

He glanced at Sadie’s
itty bitty
teeth.

“I don’t know the first thing about dogs,” he said.

“Don’t be ridiculous.”

“I don’t.” His father had never allowed animals in the house. Which was, upon reflection, a great reason to have them.

“Well.” She leaned in and said, in a conspiratorial tone, “The first thing is, dogs bark. Cats meow. That’s the main difference.”

He huffed a laugh. “You know what I mean.”

“I do. But I saw Sadie the other day when I came in to volunteer and I just knew she was the one for you.”

“Wait.” He shook his head. “You volunteer here?”

“Of course.”

“Three jobs
and
you volunteer at the shelter?”

“I like to keep busy. And I love animals.” She glanced around at the full cages. “So many of these critters have been abused. I just want to show them
some
people are loving. I think they deserve that.”

He stared at her. It was all he could manage. Once again, she slayed him with her humanity. Her compassion. Her bright and beautiful soul.

“Honestly, if I won the lottery, I would start a no-kill shelter.”

“Would you?”

“I would. I would save all the animals I could.”

Yeah. She probably would.

She picked up another puppy, one missing an eye and half his left back leg. “This is Toto. Isn’t he precious?”

Shit.
He wished she hadn’t pointed Toto out.

Because now he was going home with two dogs.

“We’d better leave,” he said.