The Boyfriend Contract

by Victoria James

  She parked her SUV, leaving her empty coffee cup and scones, and slowly stepped outside. The smell of fresh air filled her body, and goose bumps pricked her skin as the cool morning breeze from the river floated over her. She took in the enormous porch with its large pillars and wood planks. The house was Gothic revival style, but she only knew that because of her research. She would have assumed the style was Victorian based on the ornate gingerbread trim and detailed porch.

  As she stood in the middle of the driveway, that sense of belonging—or maybe of longing to belong—hit her, just as it had in town. She had never really felt as though she belonged anywhere before. At home, she’d never truly been herself. At her father’s company it was the same, though slightly better than home because she’d established herself as a respected leader.

  But here, this, something about it felt so right. It was her. It spoke to her. This house, in its imperfection, spoke to her. It was real—all of its flaws were real and visible. She could make this into her own little empire. It would one day be a beautiful, five-star country inn. She slowly walked toward the barn, something she had never imagined owning, but completely suited the property.

  Staring at the narrow river at the bottom of the grassy hill, she imagined skating on it in the winter. She could already imagine the marketing for the winter season—she could offer picnic baskets with slices of cranberry bread, a thermos of hot chocolate, and a charming red-and-green plaid blanket. She’d hang twinkling white lights in the trees. She could smell the fresh cedar boughs she’d hang on the porch. The brochures would create themselves out here. In the summer she would have hanging baskets of ferns on the porch. She could see flower baskets under the two barn windows, once the barn was restored and looked less like it might fall with one good gust of wind.

  Did she want this place? Oh, yes. It was a ten-minute walk to town, yet because it was a three-acre property, it was as though she was way out in the country.

  This one boutique country inn would lead to another, and then soon she’d have a dozen. Then she’d be on the cover of Toronto’s most prestigious business magazine…maybe featuring entrepreneurs under thirty. This time next year, her nightmare of a family would be a distant memory…

  She needed to put her years of hard work on a family business behind her. She needed to stop replaying that last day when the company she had slaved over had been ripped from her hands and given to her undeserving brother. She needed to forget the humiliation of being told her inheritance would only come when she got married. She shut her eyes and took a deep breath…and then the sound of an approaching truck reminded her where she was.

  The truck parked. It had a Merrick & Sons Construction decal on the side, and a thrill of excitement zinged through her as she waited to meet the people who were going to help her build a new life.

  She shielded her eyes against the sun as the driver got out and circled around the truck. As he came into view, her stomach dropped, and she inhaled sharply. He was the one man she “knew” in this town. Coop.

  Chapter Two

  “Hi again,” Cooper said as he walked toward her.

  “Hi,” she said, forcing a small laugh and trying to appear casual, even though she was dying of humiliation. She was still as much a disaster now as she was at the coffee shop. Maybe even worse, because she was pretty sure she had dribbled some of her latte down her shirt, and she wasn’t sure she’d dusted off all the crumbs from the scones. She felt like she should toss her hair over her shoulder or something, but considering its current state, she’d probably get her hand caught in the tangled mess.

  “I guess we haven’t formally introduced ourselves. Cooper Merrick,” he said, extending his hand.

  “Emily Birmingham,” she said, shaking his hand. His grip was solid and sent a warmth through her body before he withdrew it, placing it in the front pocket of his jeans. He stood beside her, and she became very aware of his height, his large size. He was a man’s man—that much was obvious. She glanced at his truck parked beside her SUV. Hm. It suited him. Cooper Merrick.

  “I was thinking we could do a walk around before we start tomorrow. My dad went over everything with me and my brothers. I’ll be heading up the construction on this site, so I’d like to assess it myself.”

  “Of course,” she said, trying to appear nonchalant. There was something about him that made her kind of flustered, like she couldn’t quite catch her breath. Maybe it was the sheer masculinity of him. The strong forearms, the wide shoulders. Those jeans. The hard lines of his face, the stubble. His eyes were like the ocean on a bright summer day. If she were to imagine what he was really like, since she didn’t know him, she’d imagine he was loyal and strong and hardworking. He was also nice to his sister—that beat out everything else in her book.

  She wasn’t so pathetic as to let her reaction to him show, though. So the fact that he was standing there looking at her, waiting for her to say something, was a good clue that she might be playing out her fantasy about him a little too long. “Right. Yes, your father mentioned you and your brothers run the day-to-day.”

  His father had been charming. An older, more cheerful version of Cooper, he’d been chatty and friendly with her on the phone. He’d exuded almost a fatherly presence. Cooper didn’t give off a fatherly vibe.

  He gave her a nod and stuck his chin out in the direction of the porch. “Yeah, there’s quite a few of us. Let’s go through the house?”

  She nodded, and they began walking together across the property.

  “Nice piece of land you got here.”

  “Thanks.”

  “Nice piece of land” was how country people talked, she assumed. Where she was from, there was no land. Sure, she’d lived in a sprawling penthouse with a wrap-around terrace, but there was no land.

  “One of my favorite places in Maple Hill,” he said.

  She smiled at him. “Really? I wish I knew more about the history. I only visited my grandmother here once, and my father rarely spoke of this place. I’m going to do some digging around. I hear the historical society is great for researching the local stuff.”

  He gave her a half smile. “You should speak to old Mrs. Snyder.”

  “Who?”

  “She lived next door forever. She’s still alive. In her nineties I think.”

  “Oh, wow. How do I find her?”

  “I think she’s on Facebook. In the Maple Hill Residents Group.”

  “Oh. Are you on Facebook?”

  “No.”

  Of course, he wasn’t on Facebook. He didn’t seem the type to be posting memes or what he ate for breakfast.

  “Or you can ask almost anyone in town,” he said. “She lives with her daughter now.”

  They were standing on the front porch, and he ran his hands down the columns then walked over and poked at the shutters. Several of them were missing slats, the paint had been chipped off, and most of the windows had broken glass.

  “I’d hate to just barge on over there and intrude,” she said.

  He shoved his hand into one of the bases of the columns and dragged out a clump of rotting wood. He brushed his hands together, flinging off some of the straggling pieces onto the grass. “Oh, don’t worry about that around here. People welcome it, expect it even. By the end of your first week living here, your neighbors are going to know what day you buy your groceries, whether or not you go to church on Sundays, and if you get your garbage to the curb on time.”

  This made her uncomfortable. She was a very private person. Sure, she’d heard the rumors about small towns and their gossip, but she didn’t really think it would be that bad. She had no idea what the reaction would be when they heard she’d be turning this into an inn. “You’re teasing, right?”

  He glanced up from the broken step he was now examining. “Nah, I don’t really tease.”

  Oh.

  “Plus there’s the fact that you’re Julia’s granddaughter. She was well-known and well-liked. People are curious about her gr
anddaughter coming to town.”

  She looked at the ground. How quickly news traveled. Would these people hate her? She had no idea what her grandmother had said about her father. In retrospect, she wished she’d made more of an effort to keep in touch with Nanna Julia. But everyone in the family had called her crazy and eccentric, and since Emily had only met her a few times, the bond wasn’t strong enough to make her question her parents or even miss her grandmother. She shot Cooper a quick smile. “I’m not that interesting. Hopefully they’ll lose their fascination quickly.”

  He shrugged, his eyes sparkling, and then ripped off one of the rotted floorboards from the steps and tossed it onto the lawn. “I wouldn’t count on it. Especially with the construction going on over here. Don’t be surprised if you find some neighbors poking around when the doors are open. Let’s go inside,” he said. “Don’t use the front steps. We can use the back door until the porch is restored.”

  She unlocked the front door, he held the door open for her, and she stepped into the vestibule. A wash of familiarity swept over her, and that strange sense of being in the right place enveloped her again.

  Cooper looked down at the small white tiles, slightly kicking the floor with his boot. “We’re keeping these, right?”

  She nodded, not even having to think about it. “I love them.”

  He gave her a nod, like he approved of her reply. “They’re from the thirties. You don’t see too many of these left. Just needs a good cleaning and we can touch up the grout.”

  She agreed. The hexagon-shaped tiles with the Greek Key border in black screamed vintage charm. The ceilings in the vestibule were super high and the large interior French door, transom, and sidelights allowed sunlight to filter into the hallway. She could picture a small antique desk with a brass bell, vintage telephone, and oversize paper ledger with guest bookings just outside the vestibule.

  “Will the wallpaper be damaged when the knob and tube wiring get pulled out?” she asked. Unfortunately for her budget, the electrical tab alone was going to be in the tens of thousands to bring it up to code. The pale-yellow wallpaper with tone-on-tone damask was something she totally wanted to preserve.

  “We’ll try. Old Norm Newell is the best electrician in the county.”

  Old Norm Newell. She tried not to let her amusement show, but this kind of small-town stuff made her giddy. She hadn’t had much to be giddy about lately. She could get used to this kind of thing. It was straight out of a Hallmark Christmas movie.

  She followed Cooper into the hallway, and her gaze immediately went to the staircase. It was spectacular; for sure it would be a talking point among the guests. The dark mahogany handrail was so thick her hand couldn’t grip its entire width, while the ornate spindles were painted white. The yellow damask wallpaper extended all the way into the upstairs hall, and sunlight streamed in from the vestibule. She desperately tried to envision her grandmother there but couldn’t. She could barely remember the layout of the house. Cooper’s father had sent her pictures after he walked through with the maintenance company.

  The hardwood floors were wide-planked with some gaps in them, and they creaked loudly—not that she minded. Guests would love this, especially when she topped the floors with antique Persian runners and hung carefully selected artwork on the walls.

  They walked through the rest of the house, and room by room, he efficiently pointed out the areas that were fine and the areas that were going to need work. The dining room was large and could easily accommodate a dozen or so tables for two. The two parlors could serve as a sitting area and perhaps a room with a small bar.

  When they arrived at the kitchen, she stood in the doorway, surveying the large space. It would do in terms of size. There would be enough room for multiple sinks, an island, refrigerators, ovens, and stoves. The eating area was massive, and since she wouldn’t need it for guests, it would make for a fine working kitchen.

  Cooper sighed roughly, and she wasn’t sure if she’d heard a muffled swear as he crouched and ran his hands across the floorboards.

  Still hunched on the ground, he turned his head toward her. “So, my dad mentioned he thought we’re going to take up this entire floor and reinforce the joists. Are you planning on keeping the hardwood in here?”

  “No, because this will be a commercial kitchen, I think tile will be much more practical and durable.”

  “Agreed. We’ll get going on permits, too. I know my father gave you a ballpark figure, but we can get solid numbers by the end of the week. There will be some big expenses on this place, though. I haven’t looked at the roof yet, but it might be the original slate, and if that’s the case, you should be prepared to replace it. I’ll look for signs of water damage as we do our walk-through.”

  She was prepared for the expenses of renovating. Her condo value back in Toronto was astronomical, and she’d sold it in a day to the highest bidder, thanks to a healthy seller’s market. She’d inherited this house and the land, so really she could afford to put all her eggs in this basket and make it a five-star worthy inn. Of course there were risks, but there was no way she would fail. While on the road and in different hotel rooms, she’d prepared her business plan and was ready if she needed to secure more financing. This wasn’t her first rodeo. She’d opened inns under her family’s business and knew exactly what she was doing. Sure this would be a bit different because it also entailed the renovation of a century-old home and it would be marketed as a country inn, but the basics were the same.

  “I’m prepared for that,” she said. “Actually, that’s something I wanted to ask you about. Timeline—I need this place finished, like, yesterday. Also, I need to live here during the renovation.”

  His eyebrows rose slightly, and she didn’t know if it was because she was coming across as demanding or simply because of what she said. He rubbed one of those large, tanned hands across his jaw and sighed. “I wouldn’t recommend living here. As far as timeline goes, we’ll do our best. We already have kitchen people ready with drawings for you to review tomorrow, since my father took all the measurements.”

  “That’s great about the kitchen…but is there a way we can organize the renovations in a way that would make sense and you could just…work around me?”

  He stood and rocked back on his heels. “Honestly? It’s not ideal. It’s going to be loud and dusty. You might not have power for a couple nights, definitely not in all areas of the house. You might have to move from room to room to avoid the mess. We’ll have to tarp off some areas and…”

  “I won’t be any problem at all. If we could pick one room that requires the least amount of work, I’ll sleep in there. I can also set up a desk and my laptop. Oh, maybe a coffeemaker. Probably a mini fridge… It can be my one-room apartment until this is done.”

  He gave her a nod. “Okay. We’ll start on that tomorrow. Let’s uh, go upstairs and see the rest of this place. You can choose your room, and we’ll take it from there,” he said, pausing at the bottom of the stairs so she could walk up first.

  She led the way up the staircase and resisted the urge to cover her butt, because it occurred to her that during her drive she may have sat on errant Cheetos. She walked up the stairs as quickly as possible and then stopped at the upstairs landing. A breathtaking Gothic window let in a stream of light in the upper hall, and she counted five doors. “This is gorgeous,” she whispered, walking toward the window. The river below flowed freely, with hundreds of trees draped over it and swaying in the wind. This would make an excellent upstairs common area. Maybe a chess table, built-in floor-to-ceiling bookshelves. Soft music playing…

  “It is,” he agreed. “Mind if I go through these rooms?”

  She shook her head, happy to have him lead the way. If there were mice or rodents of any kind, at least he’d be the first to find them. They toured the upstairs efficiently, and she was pleased by the condition and size of the bedrooms as well as how clean everything was. “These floors are in great shape,” she said, noting
the details in the wood.

  “They are. I think a light sanding and buffing will make it seem like new.”

  “How hard will it be to get a bathroom attached to every bedroom?”

  His eyes widened. “In every room? You have ten bedrooms here and only two bathrooms. I’m betting that’s all galvanized plumbing, so…”

  “Well, that would mean we’d have to redo the plumbing, anyway, so that would be perfect for the bathrooms, right?” she asked, lifting her brows and smiling.

  One corner of his mouth turned up, and he almost smiled. “I guess. It’ll add to the timeline. The thing about an old house is sometimes you don’t know what you’re dealing with until you start ripping things apart. Sure, we can do it, but it’s not easy putting plumbing in a house that was originally built when indoor plumbing wasn’t common. These bathrooms look like they’re from the thirties, which means this is all concrete under here. We can do it; I just want to make sure you’re aware of how big a job it’ll be.”

  She shrugged. She had no choice. She didn’t want to run a B&B; she wanted to run an inn. A five-star inn. That meant full luxury bathrooms for each and every guest room. “I have to have one in each. Some could have just a glass shower, toilet, and sink. But the others will require a full bath.”

  He nodded. “Okay. I’ll have the plumbers here tomorrow, so you can go over plans with them and me. We can set your pricing and move forward if you still want an en suite after you get the quote.”

  No one here would understand what was at stake for her. Maybe they’d think she was being picky, but she had to be. If this inn wasn’t successful, all her inheritance, all her life savings would be gone. But more than that, her family would have won. “I appreciate the warning, but for what I’m trying to accomplish here, it’s a must.”

  He braced one arm on the door jamb, and despite the fact that he made her slightly jittery, he also made her comfortable. Cooper asked her things and seemed genuinely interested in her reply and enthusiastic about the house. Working alongside her brother for years had made her defensive. “So, is this a company you work for?”