by Nan Dixon
“Let’s lock this down before I head back to Boston.”
“How’s your renovation progressing in Boston?” Daniel grinned. “As smooth as your Savannah rehab?”
“I wish you could work on that project.” Gray shuddered. “I trust you.”
It was nice to hear. While working together, he and Gray had become friends. “I’m a Georgia boy. Plus, we’ve got enough going on with Carleton House.” And whatever was happening with Pop.
Gray bounced his project issues off Daniel. It was great to talk with someone as an equal. Talking to Bess had been—difficult. She had a vision, but it didn’t allow for structural limitations.
When Gray stopped asking his opinion on his Boston problems, Daniel asked, “How do you want Carleton House to work?”
Gray frowned. “What do you mean?”
“Bess doesn’t have your knowledge, but she’s spending your money. I’m hoping you’ll stay active in the project.”
Life would be simpler working with Gray. Unlike Bess, Gray would never pull some prank. And Daniel wouldn’t fantasize about kissing him. He rolled his shoulders.
“I’ll be too tied up in Boston.” Gray raised an eyebrow. “Are there problems?”
“Let me show you the changes Bess requested.” Daniel unrolled the blueprints and walked through Bess’s list. “I suggested they use single French doors in the library, but the doors will still be custom.”
“Good idea,” Gray said.
“And they want balconies on all the courtyard rooms.”
“That works.” Gray tipped back his beer. “Want another?”
“Sure.” Daniel had work to finish tonight, but he needed to know how to keep Gray in the loop.
Gray flagged the server and they ordered beers and food.
“I like the idea of adding more balconies.” Gray pored over the exterior prints. “You’re sticking with the black wrought iron, right?”
“That’s what Bess wants. And Pop would have my head if we didn’t.”
“What’s with your dad?” Gray asked. “Everyone assumed he would run this project.”
“Something’s...off.” He didn’t want to tell his friend he was as shocked as everyone else. “Mom made him go to the doctor. I assume they’ll figure out what’s wrong and he’ll be back on the job soon.”
“Good.” Gray nodded. “So back to Carleton House. This will be the Fitzgeralds’ B and B. Bess is in charge. I’ll be in Boston on a pretty set schedule. Let me know whenever the changes total two percent.”
Two percent. Daniel did the math. “We might be there with the balconies. The wrought-iron bids will be high.”
“Let me know what the total cost will be. After these changes—go with the two percent.” Gray raised his eyebrows. “Are you worried about working with Bess?”
Not that he would tell Gray. “You know construction.”
“And she’s a landscape architect. There has to be crossover.”
“I don’t need help with the drainage and what bushes to plant where.”
Gray tipped his head and didn’t say anything. The server dropped off their food. While Daniel dug into his grilled shrimp, Gray stared at him as if he’d stepped in something.
“Yeah, yeah, Bess is good with flowers,” Daniel admitted.
“She’s smart, too. And hardworking. And the sisters know what works for a B and B. They all lived through the Fitzgerald House restoration.” Gray aimed a finger at him. “Don’t be dissing my future sister-in-law.”
Daniel swallowed. “I won’t.”
“Bess has authority to sign change orders for Carleton House.”
“Good to know.” Daniel wanted to scream that this was not a good idea. She was an accident waiting to happen.
But that wasn’t the real problem. Bess was basically his boss.
He needed to stop thinking about her naked.
CHAPTER FIVE
Don’t let the tall weeds cast a shadow on the beautiful flowers in your garden.
Steve Maraboli
“BOUQUETS ARE DONE.” Bess flexed her fingers before wheeling her cart back into the King’s Gardens’ coolers.
“I’ve got one more table arrangement.” Molly leaned close. “Are you uncomfortable working here?”
“Cade and I have a good agreement.” Bess was uncomfortable, but she’d survive. “Plus, he lets me use his delivery van.”
“He should. Done,” Molly said, stretching out her back. “Do you have time for lunch?”
“Sure.” Then she was heading over to Carleton House to pin Daniel down on when she could start in the gardens.
After cleaning up, they met at Lenny’s Diner and grabbed their usual booth.
Molly asked, “Any job prospects?”
Bess was tired of answering this question. She drew pictures in the sweat on her glass. “A nursery up in Beaumont called. They like my résumé but don’t have any openings.”
“That sucks.” Molly grimaced. “Plus, I don’t want you to move. I love working with you.” She sighed. “My hours are way down, and working with Cade’s son—not good. He needs seasoning.”
Bess laughed. “You make him sound like a slab of steak. He’s not that bad.”
Molly rolled her eyes. “He’s not you.”
“Thanks.” Bess patted her friend’s hand. “I don’t want to move, either. Plus, I’m responsible for Carleton House.”
“How’s that going?”
“We’re finalizing the architectural designs.” Bess wiggled. “I can’t wait to tear down the flagstone wall. You’ll work with me, right?”
“Absolutely.” Molly nodded. “What are you planning in the courtyard?”
Bess talked and sketched on her place mat until their salads arrived.
“I love your ideas.” Molly took a bite. “Let me know when you’re ready to work.”
“I’m toying right now. Once the wall is down, I’ll have a better sense of the space.”
“Any offers on your apartment?” Molly asked.
“No, thank goodness.”
Molly pointed with her fork. “If you need a place to stay, you can crash at my apartment.”
“You only have one bedroom.” Bess tried to keep the shock from her voice.
“We’d figure something out.”
“Thanks for the offer.” It would be as bad as living with Abby and Gray. “I hope my apartment takes forever to sell.”
After they finished eating, Bess headed to Fitzgerald House. Daniel’s silver truck was parked next to the Carleton carriage house. Good. She could pin him down on when she could get into the gardens.
The carriage-house doors hung open. A power saw filled the entrance. As she headed through the doorway, the changes amazed her.
The skeleton of a curving stairway rose from the center of the space. Pillars and walls defined the rooms. She explored, finding a bathroom and guest bedroom. She’d helped Abby and Gray as they’d worked on the layout, but it was different seeing it in real life.
Footsteps echoed on the floor above. Boots slapped on the stairs. Whoever it was moved fast. A nail gun’s rhythmic beat continued above her head.
Long legs came into view first. She knew those lean, muscled thighs and the hips that emerged. She’d held on to those hips as tight as the tool belt strapped there.
She gritted her teeth. Sure, he made her heart beat triple time. He also kissed like a dream and melted her insides, but he didn’t really see her. He thought she was still irresponsible.
His boots hit the main level. “Bess.”
“I saw your truck.” She crossed her arms, lining up her arguments. “I’m wondering when I can get the wall down. I want a date.”
He rubbed his neck. “You can start
next week.”
“Oh.” She let her hands drop. “Okay. Good.”
He snickered. “You thought I’d put you off.”
“I...” Yes.
“You keep forgetting, we have the same goals.” He closed the distance between them. The smell of freshly cut wood drilled into her core.
She took a step back, hating her body’s reaction to him. “Anything new on the Carleton House changes we requested?”
“I’m waiting on one more answer.” He checked his phone. “The engineer promised to call today.”
“Well, good.” She backed toward the door, needing to escape his intoxicating scent. “Let me know what you hear.”
“Will do.” He frowned at her. “Are you working in the Fitzgerald House gardens this afternoon?”
“No. The ballroom.” She escaped out the door. “Text me.”
She jogged to the Fitzgerald carriage house, where she stored her decorating supplies. Might as well vent her sexual frustration on work. She grabbed a cart and dug out the box of pale green tulle and bows. Carefully, she added glittery white tree branches to the pile along with boxes of fairy lights.
This bride wanted her large double white arbor. She started to move the arbor, but the wood gave a groan. “Shoot.”
She called Nigel, a B and B employee. “Any chance you could help move an arbor?”
“Can you wait forty-five minutes? I’m picking up guests at the airport.”
“Oh. I’ll find someone else.” There were strong men working at the carriage house, but she didn’t want to ask Daniel.
She’d start with this load. The cart rattled as she pushed it across the flagstones. She went in through the service door, wedged the cart into the elevator and headed to the ballroom on the top floor. The last wedding held here had been Mamma’s.
Daniel had looked hot that night. Heat rushed over her face. Who was she kidding? Daniel always looked hot. Ten years ago he’d broken her teenage heart. This latest rejection had only bruised her ego.
Bess needed to stop thinking about him. He didn’t respect who she’d become. She needed to be stronger and smarter than this...this lust bubbling inside her.
Back in the carriage house, she wiggled and shifted, finally loading the arbor on the cart. Hanging on to a leg, she pulled the cart around the curving garden paths. The wood groaned whenever the cart wobbled.
She bit her lip. Maybe this wasn’t a good idea.
“What are you doing?” Daniel’s deep voice boomed across the courtyard.
Her shoulders stiffened. “Moving an arbor.”
His boots were heavy and quick on the garden path stones. “Where to?”
“The ballroom.”
Daniel laughed. He actually laughed.
She jerked the cart back into motion, hoping to run over his toes.
“Wait.” He grabbed the cart’s back handle. “You’ll never fit through the door.”
“I know.” She’d planned to get Abby or maybe housekeeping staff to help.
Grabbing the center of the arbor, he stood it up, setting it across the path.
She winced. “Watch out for my roses.”
He raised an eyebrow. Pushing straight up with his arms, he carried the arbor, barely keeping it from scraping the ground. His muscles bulged. “Get the doors.”
She tore her gaze away his fascinating arms. “We have to take it up the outside stairs.”
“I should have guessed,” he mumbled.
She slipped under the arbor, brushing against Daniel’s body. Inhaling, she caught his addictive scent. “This way.”
“Did my dad make this?” he grunted.
“He sure did.” She patted the wood. “Said it would last.”
“I can tell. It weighs a ton.” Daniel sidestepped up the large stone steps. “I need your help.”
She slithered by his hard, fantastic-smelling body one more time. Was he doing this to taunt her?
He tipped the frame on its side.
She steadied the leg and lifted. Working together, they inched up the stone steps.
“The third floor?” Daniel set the arbor on its side on the second-floor landing. “Who usually helps you move this?”
“I’ve only used it in the courtyard.”
He took a deep breath. “Ready?”
“Ready.” She hefted the heavy leg. She had tears in her eyes by the time they reached the landing.
“Break,” he called, laying the arbor down.
She shook out her aching arms.
“Are you okay?” he asked.
“Never better,” she gasped.
He grabbed the wood. “Okay, last flight.”
She got under the leg and let the edge rest on her shoulder. The wood ate into her skin, but it took more weight off Daniel.
“Finally,” he called from the landing. He stood the arbor up, raised his arms and rested them against the frame. “Where do you want it?”
Lifting the arbor, he followed her into the ballroom.
“Right here.” The bride wanted the feel of an outdoor wedding without worrying about her makeup melting in the heat.
He set it down.
She pushed and pulled until it was in the perfect spot. “Thanks for your help.”
“No problem.” He touched her shoulder and his finger came away bloody. “What happened?”
“Ow.” The wood had sliced a line in her skin. “The arbor.”
“This needs to be cleaned,” he said.
His fingers moving on her skin had her stomach doing cartwheels.
He pulled her to the women’s bathroom. Grabbing paper towels, he soaked them in hot water and hand soap. “This might sting.” His tone was serious.
She jerked. “I can clean this myself.”
“I’ve got it.” He brushed down her tank top and bra strap.
“Hey!”
“Oh, stop.” He gently cleaned the cut. His hair brushed her cheek as he inspected the wound. “I’ve seen you naked.”
“It won’t happen again,” she mumbled.
“Hmm.”
Darn it. It was different seeing Daniel worried about something other than his work.
“Do you have Band-Aids?” His fingers stroked her shoulder.
She shivered from his touch. “I don’t think so.”
Carefully folding a paper towel, he used her bra strap to anchor the makeshift bandage. “That ought to hold.”
“Thanks.” Her voice shook.
“How does it feel?” He cupped her shoulders.
Feel? She only felt his hands. Her stupid heart pounded and it wasn’t from hauling the arbor up the stairs. “I’m fine.”
His gaze darkened.
She held her breath. She wanted him to step closer. He might kiss and reject, but the need to feel his lips on hers was almost painful.
“Bess.” He stared at her mouth.
The door banged open.
Daniel shook his head, as if he’d awakened from a dream.
Cheryl, a B and B employee, pushed a cleaning cart into the bathroom. “Oh!”
“Hi, Cheryl.” Bess wadded up the bloody paper towels and tossed them in the garbage with shaking hands. “Daniel was cleaning my cut.”
“I’ll come back.” Cheryl pointed out the door.
“No.” Bess’s face had to be bright red. She risked looking at Daniel.
He stared at the floor. “We’re done.”
She and Daniel filed out of the bathroom together.
“Thank you,” she murmured as they walked into the ballroom.
“No problem.” He almost ran to the French doors, but stopped, shaking his head. “The engineer called. We’ve figured out how to add the
balconies.”
“Fantastic.”
He stared anywhere but at her face. “So I’ll...I’ll let you know when the architect gets the blueprints back.”
“Great.”
“’Bye.” He hurried away, his boots clattering down the stairs. He sure was hell-bent on getting away from her.
* * *
DANIEL POUNDED THE steering wheel. He’d stroked Bess’s soft skin. Her earthy, flowery scent had wrapped around him, almost luring him to kiss her.
He was smarter than this. She wasn’t good for him. Hell, he’d planned to check on the work over at the Landing on Skidaway Island, but he’d forgotten because of Bess. This was what happened when he was around her. He forgot his priorities.
At least he hadn’t forgotten Mom’s invite to dinner. They could eat and have a pleasant evening. Maybe Pop had good news from his doctor.
Parking in front of his parents’ house, he released a deep breath. If Pop was better, everything could go back to normal. His dad could manage Carleton House—and Bess.
Daniel wouldn’t have to worry about not kissing her anymore.
As he locked his truck, Nathan’s truck pulled in behind him. Shoot. More aggravation.
“Hey, little bro.” Nathan bounded up the steps ahead of him.
Daniel’s shoulders tensed, and his fingers curled into fists. “What are you doing here?”
Nathan opened the door. “Mom wanted me here for dinner.”
Daniel paused in the hallway. Why make Nathan drive from Atlanta?
“Dinner’s ready,” their mother called from the kitchen.
Pop dozed in his recliner.
Nathan grabbed a beer from the fridge. He wiggled the bottle at Daniel. “Want one?”
“No.”
“Sit. Sit.” Debbie put a serving dish on a trivet on the table. “Samuel, dinner,” she called.
The recliner snapped upright with a thud. Pop came to the table. Was he dragging more? Were the purple bruises under his eyes darker than last week?
Daniel took his place at the scarred wooden table. Mom had pulled out the brightly colored place mats she’d bought on a Bahamas cruise. Her “happy” place mats, she called them. Cold fingers gripped the base of his spine.
