“I was afraid you’d say that,” Amy said with a sigh. “I’ll get the vacuum.”
After a thorough vacuuming, they attacked the wall with brushes and spray bottles of cleaner, sloughing off big chips of paint along with the dirt.
“Have you heard anything else from Riker?” Amy asked, looking up to where Mariah perched on the ladder, scrubbing the crown molding.
Mariah concentrated on the elaborate dental molding, which was in desperate need of a refresh. “Not yet,” she confessed.
“Are you being a chicken or playing hard to get?”
“Not sure,” Mariah admitted. She had Riker’s number, Amy got it from Jake on the pretense that the maid of honor should be able to reach the best man if needed, but so far, Mariah hadn’t made contact. How did you ask someone if they wanted to have an innocent fling with you anyway and not come across sounding either desperate or creepy?
Amy sensed her pensive mood and they continued working in silence except for the soft strains of Ella Fitzgerald coming from the speakers linked to Mariah’s iPod. After an hour, they’d finished the space behind the shelf.
“So on to the next one, eh?” Mariah said, eyeing the next enormous shelf with a sense of dismay. Her arms and back were already aching.
Amy’s fingers were zipping over her phone. “Not before lunch. Jake is going to stop at Big C’s, what do you want?”
Mariah had only been to Big C’s once so far, and her mouth immediately began watering at the thought of some golden French fries.
“How about a grilled cheese and some fries?”
“Got it,” Amy said, still typing into her phone. “Do you want a shake?”
Mariah shook her head. “No thanks. But do they have lemonade?”
“Yep, I’ll tell him; should be about ten minutes,” Amy replied. She threw herself down on the ratty red couch to wait.
Mariah slumped next to her cousin and worked her fingers over a kink in her neck. “How about you get up on the ladder for the next one?” she suggested. She kept her tone light, trying to keep the discouragement out of her voice. The boutique was becoming a much bigger job than either of them anticipated. And with the wedding coming up, there would be even more demands on their time … and money.
“Did you decide on the bridesmaids’ dresses?’ Mariah asked, ready to move on to happier subjects. They’d been looking at a couple of options and Amy still hadn’t made up her mind.
“I don’t know,” her cousin said. “The tea length is so cute, but the long ones would go better with my dress, and probably be better for a winter wedding.”
“Yeah, but it’s indoors,” Mariah pointed out. “So skirt length probably isn’t such a big—”
She broke off at the hammering on the front door. They looked over to see Jake, peering through the glass, a big box of food in one arm. Standing next to him, taller by several inches, was Riker.
Mariah gave a nervous squeak as her heart began racing. “Did you know he was coming?” she gulped to Amy, quickly thinking about how she must look. Probably covered in dirt and spider webs and who knew what else. Fantastic.
“Yep,” Amy said proudly as she got up to answer the door. “You’re not going to text him on your own, so I did it for you. Or actually, Jake did.”
“Why didn’t you warn me?” Mariah hissed, but as Amy opened the door, she fixed a smile on her face and tried to look unconcerned.
“Hey girls,” Jake announced. “You are saved by Big C’s.”
“And you are a saint,” Amy replied. She gave him a quick kiss and set the box of food on the scratched coffee table in front of the couch.
Riker dropped into an easy chair opposite the couch. He was still in jeans and cowboy boots, only this time the ball cap was back in place and he wore a plaid button up under his leather jacket. His gray eyes met Mariah’s and he grinned. “How’s it going?”
“Good.” She worked to keep her tone casual.
Amy handed out the food and there were a few minutes of silence while they concentrated on eating.
“This really hits the spot, thanks so much,” Mariah said. Her grilled cheese was creamy and gooey and perfectly crisp on the outside.
“Thank Riker, he bought it,” Jake said.
“Oh, well, thank you,” Mariah turned her eyes to Riker.
He took a sip of soda and winked at her from over the top of his cup. “Glad you like it.”
“Well, Jake and I have to go run some errands,” Amy announced brightly, wrapping up their uneaten food.
“You didn’t say anything about errands,” Mariah said. “Where are you going?”
“The Flower Girl. We need to pick out corsages and boutonnieres,” Jake said, giving every impression of a man anxious to spend the next two hours contemplating ribbon placement.
Mariah narrowed her eyes. “Then shouldn’t I go with you? That’s something I can help with.”
“Don’t worry about it, we’ve got it covered,” Amy said. She slipped into her coat and they were out the front door before Mariah could protest further.
There was a beat of silence, then Riker gave Mariah a measured look. “This was a setup,” he finally said, a small grin hovering at the corner of his mouth.
“I have no doubt,” Mariah shook her head, torn between irritation at Amy’s meddling and gratitude that her cousin had finagled a way for her to be alone with Riker.
He cast an eye around the boutique. “It’s looking … good in here,” he finally said.
She laughed. “You mean it’s looking terrible. It’s looking like it was hit with a bomb and we were lucky to have survived.”
“Weeeell …” he drew out the word. “It could be better. But it’ll get there. I can tell you’ve already done a lot.”
“Yeah, a lot of destruction. The rebuilding is what I’m worried about.”
Riker finished off the last of his fries. “Did you get your permits?”
“No,” she sighed. “Did you get yours?”
“Yup. We already dropped one charge and are flying again in the morning to see if we need to drop another.”
“Ugh!” She rolled her eyes. “Must be nice to have connections at city hall so you can pull some strings.”
He lounged in the chair, one arm slung along the back as he studied her with those gray eyes and his teasing smile ignited every nerve. “Something like that. Are you going to ask me to use my connections to get your permits through?”
“Could you?”
“I’ll see what I can do,” he said.
“Are you even being serious?” Mariah clapped her hands together in excitement, totally forgetting about the piece of grilled cheese she was still holding. They both looked at the squished sandwich. “Ew.” Mariah said, dropping it into the box with the garbage. “I’ll be right back.”
She hurried to the bathroom to wash her hands, not even bothering to do her usual check in the mirror in her hurry to get back to his side.
When she got back, Riker was wandering around the boutique, examining the walls and the shelves they were trying to laboriously to move. Without the heavy camo coat, he didn’t seem quite as big as he had that day in the woods, but he still dwarfed her. When she came to his side, he looked down at her with a soft smile. “So where are you trying to move walls?” he asked.
“I’ll show you.” She resisted the urge to reach for his hand as she led him to the back of the store. We’re hoping to knock this one out,” she said, pointing at the main wall separating the two areas. “And build a new one about here,” she moved to the new point. “And then we can put in an office and a better bathroom and still have enough storage room.”
Riker studied the walls. “Sounds like a lot of work,” he said.
“It is,” she agreed. “But we’ll get there.”
“I have no doubt,” he said. “You’re scrappy, remember?”
Her pulse jumped, remembering the day at city hall when he’d wrapped his fingers around her arm, the heat of his skin o
n hers, the way she’d wanted to get closer. She wanted to get closer now. He’d taken off the leather jacket and she wanted to run her fingers up his arm, over the sprinkling of dark hair there, to feel his warmth and his strength.
“Where are you from, anyway?” he asked.
“The west coast of Florida,” she said, ripping her attention back to the conversation. “Ever been there?”
“Nope,” Riker said. “But it’d be fun to go hunt alligators there some time.”
Mariah wrinkled her brows thoughtfully. “I lived there my whole life and I’ve never known anyone who hunts alligators.”
“Seriously? Not your dad or brothers or … boyfriends?”
Her throat tightened. “No,” she said quickly. “No one.”
He obviously sensed this was a sensitive topic because he tipped his head to gaze at the ceiling. “Is that real tin?”
“Yeah, under all that icky paint,” Mariah said. She eyed the dingy paint with distaste. “I’m still trying to figure out the best way to do it. Can you believe someone painted over actual tin?”
“Yeah, that’s a shame,” Riker said. “How do you fix it?”
“I’ve been researching online and some people say oven cleaner works, but that’s got a lot of nasty chemicals in it. I’d rather find something not so harsh.”
“The paint’s liable to be lead based,” Riker warned. “I don’t know if anything else will be able to pull it off. Other than steel wool.” He threw her a smile. “How do you feel about a lot of elbow grease?”
Mariah made a face.
“Come on,” he prodded. “We can build you a scaffolding and you can lie up there scrubbing and pretend you’re Michelangelo working on the Sistine Chapel. Only instead of adding paint, you’re taking it away.”
Mariah sighed grimly. “I guess, if that’s what it takes.”
“That’s my girl,” Riker said with a grin.
“What about you?” Mariah asked Riker, attempting to bring her pulse under control. A fling didn’t mean flinging herself into this man’s arms at the first opportunity she got, no matter how badly she wanted to. “Where are you from?”
“McCammon, Idaho. My parents are still there, but I’ve been kind of a nomad, following the firefighting work in the spring and summer and other odd flying jobs the rest of the time.”
“What made you decide to stay in Snow Valley?” she asked.
“I like the country and I like the people, and I was getting tired of moving all the time. So when the job with the county came up, it was perfect.”
Mariah nodded.
“What about you? How do you like Snow Valley?” He asked as they moved back toward the sitting area. This time he took a seat on the couch at her side.
“Pretty good, so far. I’ve never seen so many stars.” She’d been stunned by the night sky, thousands and thousands of stars stretching across the horizon, like someone had dumped a bucket of silver glitter on the velvety background of the sky.
“You don’t have stars in Florida?” Riker asked with a teasing smile.
“But these are so bright,” Mariah said. “The other night I went to get something from my car and I could actually see by the starlight.”
“Yep,” he agreed. “As long as it’s a clear night, it’s never pitch black in Snow Valley.”
“Yeah, that’s what I found,” Mariah said. “Too bad it’s too cold to enjoy them right now though.”
“Too cold?” Riker said. “Nah. You just have to bundle up.”
Her stomach jumped at the thought of what it would be like to bundle up with Riker. “I guess that’s the trick.”
They sat in silence for a minute and then he reached out and brushed his fingers across her forehead. “You’ve got a smear of dust,” he said softly.
Mariah blushed, partly from embarrassment, but mostly at the tingles that raced through her at his touch. His breath was warm on her face, smelling like French fries and, faintly, cinnamon. “There, got it,” he said with a grin and dropped his hand, leaving behind an impression of heat.
Her heart beat so fast she was sure he could probably see it pounding away in her throat. She had to stop herself from reaching up to touch the place his fingers had been on her forehead.
He met her eyes for a minute longer, then glanced at his watch. “Those two are probably going to be a while and Jake’s my ride home. Whatdaya say I make myself useful around here?”
Kissing her right now would be extremely useful, but Mariah took a deep breath and forced her thoughts in another direction. “Could you help me pull the rest of the shelves out?” she asked. “They’re much heavier than Amy and I were expecting.”
“You got it,” he said, jumping up from the couch.
They spent the next hour moving shelving units to give Mariah and Amy room to clean behind them. Mariah was amazed at how much faster, and easier, the job was with Riker’s muscles and by the time Jake and Amy returned, they’d finished pulling all the shelves away from the walls.
* * *
“How do you know he’s a player?” she asked Amy later when they slumped, exhausted, on the ratty sofa. The men had gone and the sunset blazed through the windows in a kaleidoscope of reds and oranges. Mariah was more than ready to call it a day.
“That’s what Jake said,” Amy replied. “He told me Riker’s been out with practically every single girl our age in Snow Valley. But he never takes it to the next level, never commits to anyone.”
Mariah pushed back the dart of disappointment. This is what she wanted, right? Someone who didn’t want to get serious, someone who was just for fun?
Yes, but she hadn’t counted on how he could send the butterflies dancing in her stomach with just a look.
“Who knows, maybe you could be the one to change his mind?” Amy said with a sly grin.
“Not me!” Mariah said firmly as the old fear threatened to ignite. “I’m not interested in anything serious either, remember?”
“You’re being silly,” Amy huffed. “You never know when—”
She broke off abruptly as a noise came from the storeroom, kind of a thumping, scrape.
“What was that?” Amy squeaked, her eyes wide.
The noise came again, a scuttling sound, then another thump, like a box had been knocked over. “Someone’s in there,” Mariah said. Her throat was dry. She picked up a nearby broom and moved cautiously to the door separating the storage room from the main floor. Amy gave a small whimper of protest, but followed, staying close enough to peer over Mariah’s shoulder.
Mariah stuck her hand around the doorframe and felt for the light switch. She flicked the light on and, taking a deep breath, stepped into the storeroom
There was a violent hissing sound, followed by a growl. A pair of eyes glowed in the shadows in the far corner where the light didn’t quite reach. The hissing intensified when Mariah took another step forward, then the creature yowled.
Mariah sighed in relief. “It’s only a cat,” she said and Amy relaxed the iron grip she’d had on her shoulder.
“It must have come in when I was taking the trash out to the dumpster,” Amy said. She turned on the flashlight on her phone and aimed it toward the shadows.
The cat huddled next to a stack of cardboard boxes. It was wet and shivering, its white fur matted around its face and belly and its eyes narrowed in fear. The hair on its tail stood out like a chestnut burr. They could not see a collar.
Mariah’s heart wrenched. “You poor thing!” she said. Still several feet from the cat, she squatted down and held out her hand. “Come on sweetie; I won’t hurt you,” she cooed.
The cat hissed.
“Let’s prop the door open and it’ll go back outside,” Amy suggested.
Mariah shook her head. “It’s getting dark and starting to snow. We can’t leave it outside all night.”
“But what if it’s someone’s pet?” Amy countered. “They’ll be worried.”
“It can stay here tonight and keep warm and
we can let it out in the morning,” Mariah said. She stood up and went to the small fridge where pulled out her leftover sandwich from yesterday’s lunch and pinched off a piece of turkey breast.
“Here you go.” She approached the cat again, holding out the meat, but the cat only hissed again and backed away.
After a few minutes, Mariah’s thighs burned from squatting and it became apparent the cat was not going to come any closer.
“Here,” Amy handed her a paper plate. They put the meat on the floor alongside a mug filled with water.
“Maybe we can keep her,” Mariah said as they left the room.
“Don’t get your hopes up,” Amy warned. “I’ll call the shelter tomorrow and see if anyone’s missing their cat.”
“Okay, but if no one has, we’re keeping her,” Mariah declared.
“My dad is allergic to cats.”
“She’ll live here; she can be the store mascot,” Mariah said, thinking of the aquamarine eyes and the white coat that would undoubtedly be beautiful once it was cleaned. “And her name is Lana Turner.”
Chapter 7
Riker took another glance in the mirror, making sure his hair was under control. It needed a cut, but if he combed it just right, it wouldn’t go too bushy. He ran his hand over his jaw, wondering if he should shave.
It was only a planning meeting at Amy’s house to finalize wedding preparations, but Mariah would be there and that’s what mattered. He’d done little else but think of her in the three days since he’d seen her at the boutique. The way her eyes softened as she looked around the dingy store—he could tell she was daydreaming about what it could look like, would look like when she was done with it. Her shoulders squared with determination when they’d talked about scraping paint off the ceiling and he had no doubt if lying flat on her back breathing oven cleaner for twelve hours a day was what it took, that’s what she’d do.
Her eyes had softened when she looked at him too. There was something there, no doubt. Kind of like an invisible thread running between them, thrumming with energy. He hadn’t felt this way before, ever.
He’d thought about simply calling her up and inviting her out, but nerves stopped him every time. Odd, because he wasn’t usually shy around women. But this was different and he wanted to take his time, determined not to mess this up by pushing too hard.
Winter in Snow Valley (Snow Valley Romance) Page 48
