~~~
“It’s huge,” Chelsea stood outside the marked outline of the event room.
“It looks bigger without walls, but yeah, it’s a good-sized space.” Mac answered without a trace of contempt. “We’ll be starting the framework today, so you’ll get a better sense of the layout by tonight.”
“That’s quick. What about the restaurant?” Surprised at the change in Mac’s attitude, Chelsea was grateful that he was speaking civilly to her.
“Still waiting on the reports, but I don’t expect any issues. We should be able to begin construction next week.”
“Is there anything I can do to help you?” Chelsea held her breath, willing Mac to keep it up.
“No, we’ve got it under control. Thanks.” He nodded before walking over to speak with the foreman.
“At least it’s an improvement,” Chelsea muttered as she headed back to her car. She’d stopped on her way to the B&B, curious about the activity, but braced for a confrontation. Truth be told, she might have been looking for one. She could use an outlet for her frustration over Preston, but Mac had not obliged.
Following the winding road leading farther up the mountain, she marveled once again at the majestic scenery all around her. This spot, her mountain top, was the closest thing she had ever seen to heaven and she couldn’t believe that it was hers.
“You would love it, Mom,” she spoke aloud. “Everything’s so green and blue and white, it’s like that painting you had when I was a kid. You remember, the one above the sofa? You always said that was your favorite place that you’d never been.” Chelsea smiled at the memory and wondered what had happened to the painting.
Rounding the last bend, she was amazed to see the level of activity at the B&B. At least twenty men were on the outside of the house, some working on the siding, others at the windows and still others on the porch. Standing out front, John held his hand above his eyes as he watched the men hanging from the scaffolding.
“Make sure to keep that trim intact,” she heard him say as she parked the car out of the way. “It’s original.”
“Morning, John,” she called and walked towards him. “Looks like you’ve got your hands full today.”
“Morning, Missy,” he smiled in her direction. “That I do, that I do.”
“What can I do to help?”
“Well, have you selected a paint color for the exterior? We’ll be ready to move on that first of the week. While you’re at it, you may as well select the paint for the walls. Won’t be long before we’ll need that too.”
“Okay,” Chelsea couldn’t keep the surprise from her voice. She had no idea he would be ready for the paint so soon. “I’ll start on that today.”
“Good. I’ve got some sample books in my truck. Why not take those with you and see if you find something that you like. If you let me know the exterior colors by tomorrow, I can have the paint here by Monday.”
“Colors? How many do you think I’ll need?”
“You’ll need one for the siding, one for the trim and one for the porch. Of course the porch and the trim can be the same, but you can also make them different, if you like. It’s whatever you want, Missy. Most folks use the same for the window trim and the shutters, but you can do that to suit yourself as well.”
“Okay.” Overwhelmed with the need for a sudden decision, Chelsea’s mind whirled. This was a big decision; the face of her home, her business, would be the first impression visitors would have of the Cliffs. It had to be good. “Can I get the books now? I’d best get started.”
“Sure thing, Missy. The truck’s unlocked. You just let me know if you need any help, okay?” John looked at her kindly, seeing the shell shocked expression on her face. He hadn’t intended to move so fast on the exterior, until he spoke with his doctor this morning. Everything would have to be fast-tracked, if he was to finish it as he wanted.
~~~
Deciding to set up around back at her favorite spot, Chelsea hefted the top three books from a stack of at least ten. Amazed that there were so many varieties of paint colors to choose from, she settled onto the lawn chair, facing the mountains. She figured that the best option was to select a color that was in harmony with the surroundings, not one that would compete with the natural beauty.
Opening the first book, she quickly became lost in the endless array of choices. By the end of the second book, her mind swirled with options to the point of frustration. Closing the book sharply, she closed her eyes and laid her head back against the chair.
Mac found her this way nearly twenty minutes later, hugging the book to her chest as she appeared to nap. He took the opportunity to study the graceful lines of her body in repose. In profile, her face reminded him of an elegant sculpture he’d often admired during visits to his favorite art gallery in the city. Her slender nose, peaked at the tip, was the perfect complement to high cheekbones and a gently rounded chin. She truly was beautiful.
Mac felt his heart catch as he realized the direction his thoughts were heading. This woman was not available to him, no matter how attractive she might be. Unaccustomed to turning away from something he wanted, he mentally shook himself as a reminder that, for whatever reason, this woman belonged to his father. That simple fact made her off-limits to him, for all time.
Sudden anger at the circumstances had him walking quickly towards Chelsea, his handsome face masked with ugly ferocity. It was time to confront the gold digger, let her know that he was on to her game.
~~~
Chelsea drifted somewhere between dreams and awareness, carried along by the sweet smell of sumac and a light breeze whispering through the pines. As her mind relaxed, swirls of color transformed into images of Mac. Standing alone with the mountains behind him, focused on the plans spread between his hands; pacing off a straight line from the cliff’s edge to the road; towering head and shoulders above the crew, nodding in agreement as he listened to the foreman; standing next to John, his hand on the older man’s shoulder, respect a palpable presence between them.
Her lips curved into a slight smile as she daydreamed of the one man she knew wanted nothing to do with her. Not that she wanted him, she would have told herself if she’d been fully awake, but it was nice to let go for once and imagine the possibilities.
Mac stopped short as he reached Chelsea’s side, her sudden smile sending his angry thoughts into oblivion. Desire, hard and fast, took over his mind and his body. He’d never wanted anyone as much as he wanted this woman in this moment. Taking deep breaths to try and regain control, he stood above her and watched as the smile turned into a sigh. Blood throbbed through his veins in rhythm to the gentle rise and fall of her breasts as she slept.
Clenching his hands as he gathered his senses, Mac backed slowly away from her, each step an agonizing choice that warred with every instinct he possessed. What the hell was happening to him? He had no desire for this woman, this harlot who had bewitched his father so completely. The force of his wanting belied his thoughts; making it impossible for him to deny the sudden change in his feelings. But how sudden was it, really? Hadn’t he felt the rush of attraction for her when they first met? Only then he’d tamped it down, in light of her obvious relationship with his dad. Since then, he’d been covering up his natural affinity, choosing instead to nurture the anger that accompanied her interest in John. The force of his body’s reaction now had him questioning the source of his anger. Was he truly upset that she was using his dad, or was he jealous that his dad had found her first?
“Hell no,” he growled aloud, only a few feet away from Chelsea.
~~~
The sound of Mac’s voice startled Chelsea out of her daydreams. Her eyes flew open as she searched for the man behind the heated words. She didn’t have far to look.
“Oh, hello,” sitting up straight, she nearly dropped the book she was holding. “Did you say something?” The warm and fuzzy images she had conjured in her dreams did not coincide with the face of the man before her. His express
ion was menacing at first, quickly turning passive as he moved towards her.
“No,” he quickly lied, “I was just coming to see if I could help.” He glanced pointedly at the book she held, knowing that it was his best excuse for being back here. In truth, he had been seeking a few minutes of privacy to clear his head and make a phone call or two. He’d never expected to see Chelsea when he rounded the corner of the house; he certainly hadn’t expected to come face to face with his hunger for her.
“Oh, well, that’s kind of you. I actually could use some advice.” Chelsea tried to hide her surprise at his offer. It was totally out of character with the Mac that she knew.
Lowering himself into the chair next to her, Mac turned his attention to the view. As always, it momentarily stunned him with its majesty.
“Wow,” he breathed.
“I know, amazing isn’t it?” Reverence was evident in Chelsea’s voice.
“It is.” Mac agreed, then nodded at the book. “So what have you come up with so far?”
Eager for the help, Chelsea was determined to enjoy this new Mac for as long as possible.
“Well, I’d like for the house to blend into the background, not stand out against it. No point in competing with this view.” She waved her hand towards the mountains. “I’d also like to honor the time period.” She opened the book to one of the pages she’d marked. “So far, I’m considering olive for the house, with white and cranberry trim to highlight the architecture.”
“Olive would blend into the surrounding greenery, and I definitely think you should make the trim stand out.” Mac flipped the pages until he found a deep shade of blue. “This would look nice for the house; keep the white trim, but substitute black in place of the cranberry.”
Chelsea reached for the corner of the book at the same time that Mac moved his fingers up, causing them to brush against each other. The touch was a shock of electricity for them both.
Chelsea jerked her hand away, her eyes flying up to his. Eyebrows raised, he met her gaze head on.
“Must be a storm brewing,” Mac said as an explanation.
“Must be,” Chelsea agreed, noting the cloudless sky. “I like the idea of using a deep blue, better than the olive.” She directed her attention back to the page. “I’m not so sure about the black, though.”
“You could use a lighter shade of the same blue for the trim, or stick with the white.”
“If I went with this color, then we could stain the porch and front door with a mahogany or dark cherry. That brings in the third color without using paint.”
“I like that. The stain mimics the tree bark and will anchor the front of the house. It’s a good idea.”
Chelsea held the book out in front of her, imagining the deep blue covering the whole of her house.
“A slate walkway in the front and patio back here using the same shades will tie everything together.” Mac liked the way she tilted her head as she considered the color. He was beginning to like everything about her. It irritated him.
“That sounds wonderful,” she smiled and turned to him, surprised at his sudden scowl. “What is it?”
“Nothing, I just remembered something that I need to do. So we’re done here?” Mac stood, preparing to leave if they were finished or not.
“Sure, thanks for your help. I don’t think I’ve ever selected anything so fast.”
“My pleasure. See you around.” He loped off without waiting for her to comment.
“What an odd man.” Chelsea muttered to the breeze. “But at least he was civil for a while.” Marking the page, she closed the book and sat gazing at the granite hills, absently rubbing her hand where Mac’s touch had sent sparks only moments before.
Chapter Eleven
“Hiya, Stranger, I haven’t seen you for a few days,” Sharon greeted Chelsea as she dropped into the porch swing. Hershey immediately left Chelsea’s side to join Sharon.
“I know, our schedules have been so wacky, that I wondered if you were still alive.” She grinned, and held up her wine glass. “Pour you one?”
“Definitely,” Sharon held out an empty glass with one hand and scratched Hershey’s head with the other. “How’re things at the B&B?”
“Great, I can’t believe how fast everything is coming together. John must have fifty people working on the house, plus another twenty or so working on the restaurant. You should come by, take a look at the progress.”
“So is the restaurant going against the cliff, like we wanted?” Sharon relaxed into the swing with her wine.
“Sure is, but on the ledge. Still, John assures me that it will seem as if it’s suspended against the side of the rock. Nothing else like it, as far as we know.”
“The novelty will be a big draw, I’m sure. I’ve been working on ideas for the menu, want to see?”
“Sure, but that’s your baby. I’m just a sounding board, and a taste tester.” Chelsea refilled her glass.
“In that case, I’ll surprise you with samples when I’m ready.” Sharon noticed the circles beneath Chelsea’s eyes. “So what else has been happening? Have you heard any more from Preston?”
“No, thank goodness. Maybe he finally took the hint.”
“Then what’s been keeping you up nights?”
Chelsea frowned at her friend. “Is it that obvious?”
“To me, yes. Spill.”
“It’s Mac. I don’t know what to make of him.” Chelsea bit her bottom lip.
“What’s he done now?”
“Nothing, not really,” she paused. “He’s been nice to me.”
“But that’s a good thing,” Sharon exclaimed. “And it’s about time, I’d say.”
“Yes, yes it is. But he’s not nice all the time, he alternates between icy glares and what I’d swear are steamy stares.” Chelsea blushed.
“Steamy, huh? Sounds promising. Are you giving as good as you get?”
“What? Of course not. I’m not interested in some sulky, confused man who doesn’t know his own mind. I told you, I’ve had enough relationship drama with Preston to last me a lifetime.”
“I wouldn’t exactly compare Mac to Preston,” Sharon smiled. “No matter how surly Mac’s been acting, he’s good people underneath the swagger. I can’t imagine him dumping anyone, much less his fiancée, because her mother needed her.”
“Maybe not, but I’m still not interested. Besides, from what I’ve heard, he’s a player. Even if I was looking for a relationship, it wouldn’t be with him.”
“Perhaps he’s a player because he hasn’t found the right woman, ever thought of that? Don’t ignore what’s right in front of you, Chelsea. Mac just might be the best thing that ever happened to you. And who says you need a relationship? How about a palate cleanser, get rid of Preston’s aftertaste. I know I wouldn’t kick Mac out of bed.” Sharon waggled her eyebrows.
“My palate does not need cleansing, thank you very much,” Chelsea rolled her eyes. “And if it did, something tells me that Mac Mills would be harder to shake than Preston.”
“I still think you should explore your options, or at least be open to possibilities. A fling with a gorgeous, sexy man would do you a world of good.” Sharon smacked her lips.
Chelsea laughed. “I’m not saying it wouldn’t, but Mac is not the man for the job.”
“Umm hmm, whatever you say.” Sharon pushed the swing with her toe. “Wanna order a pizza?”
~~~
“Tell him I’ll be there one day next week. Until then, Peterson will have to handle it.” Mac maneuvered the car down the steep incline as he spoke. “Any other fires I need to put out?”
“No, just Striker. We’ve got everything else under control. On a personal note, Celia Mason keeps calling, said you must have lost your cell, ‘cause you haven’t called her back.” Jeannie grinned into the phone.
“Did you tell her I’m out of town?” Mac growled.
“Like that would mean anything to her. She’s one who wants what she wants, when she wants
it. At the moment, what she wants is you.”
Mac thought of the statuesque brunette with the husky voice. A few weeks ago, he’d been more than willing to sample what she was offering. Today, she held no appeal. His mind was filled with Chelsea and there wasn’t a damn thing he could do to stop it. He didn’t even have to close his eyes to see her sleeping on the chair, her legs stretched out in front of her, a look of perfect peace on her face. Each time he recalled the moment, he imagined running his fingers through her wispy brown curls and pressing his lips against hers to awaken her.
“Mac, are you still there?” Jeannie’s voice broke through his vision.
“Yeah, yeah, I’m still here.” Mac shook himself from his reverie. What the hell was happening to him? “Anything else?”
“Nothing that can’t wait,” Jeannie told him, wondering what had her normally all-business boss so absentminded. “We’ll see you next week.”
“Yeah, see you then.” Mac jerked the earphone from his ear and tossed it onto the seat beside him and purposefully put Chelsea Bates out of his mind. She wasn’t his, would never be his. She belonged to his father.
Slowing his descent down the mountain, he admired the streaks of dark red across the deep blue sky that was the sun’s parting gift of the day. Craggy peaks in the distance, still tipped with white, reminded him why he loved this corner of the world.
Growing up in Starsdale, he’d been torn between the natural beauty all around him and the longing for something more than the small town would ever offer. The lure of the city won out, as he left for college and rarely looked back. He remembered his mother gently chiding him for staying away so long, each time he did find his way back home. After her death, he’d only seen his dad whenever John had come into Sacramento. Mac told himself that it was good for his dad to get out of Starsdale occasionally, that it was better for him to see the city and check in on the business he’d left to Mac.
Now, as he slowly wound his way along, he recognized the truth about why he’d stayed away. He had adored his mom, but he’d also neglected her while she was alive. Always believing that there would be time to visit, after he’d made his own mark on the business he’d been given, his trips home became less and less frequent. When she died, the guilt he felt for missing time with her became more than he could bear. If he couldn’t visit when she was alive, he wouldn’t visit when she was dead.
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