Page 5

Caleb

I pull up to the house and park on the street, looking out the window at the house.

It really is a beautiful house, but fuck, does it look like it’s going to fall down.

I grab the clipboard along with my phone while getting out of the truck.

Looking down at my steel-toed boots as I walk up the paved pathway that has seen better days.

Weeds and grass grow out from between the joints.

I walk up the three steps, the whole time, the building creaks, and if I didn’t know better, I would think this is a sign to get the fuck out of here.

The deck has to be sanded and resealed. I put that on my notepad before I pick up my hand to ring the bell, but the doorbell is hanging, and the wires look like something has chewed through them.

I pick up my hand and knock on the glass part of the door.

Shockingly enough the door looks to be new, or at least it was replaced in the last ten years.

I can see someone walking to the door, and not wanting to seem like a Peeping Tom, I look down at my boots until I hear the sound of the lock turning and the door is pulled open.

I look up and see her blondish-brown hair blow back.

“Hi,” she greets, her voice soft, her blue-green eyes lighting up with a smile.

“You must be Caleb. I’m Sierra,” she says, and for the first time in my life, I’m left speechless.

She’s hands down the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.

She extends her hand, and mine moves on its own as it slides in her soft one.

I watch her hand in mine as if it’s the first time I’ve ever shaken hands with someone.

I awkwardly move her hand up and down for what seems to be over a year before she slides her hand out of mine and it falls to her side.

“Please come in.” She moves to the side to give me a chance to walk in.

I make the stupid mistake of letting my eyes roam down her outfit.

A long-sleeved, rust-colored, V-neck crop sweater falls just about the waist of her blue jeans, which are tight in the hip area but go loose on the way down to the floor.

“Thank you.” I finally find the words, stepping into the house and into the foyer.

She closes the door behind me. “This is a beautiful home,” I tell her when she comes to stand in front of me.

The dining room is on the left with a chandelier hanging in the middle of the room.

To the right is what would probably be the living room, but the house is bare of furniture.

“I wouldn’t use those words.” She laughs, folding her arms over her chest. “But I think that it could be”—she looks around—“in time and with the right person.”

I look at the crown molding which looks like it is original. “This is true. Why don’t we talk about what you want done, and I’ll let you know if we can do it or not.” I turn to her and she nods.

“I’d like to take the wallpaper off,” she says of the old wallpaper that is peeling down in the corners of the room, “and I’d love to have built-in shelves from the floor to the ceiling.

” I look over at her. “Maybe have those ladders that move side to side.” She takes a deep breath.

“I want this to be a library.” Her voice goes higher.

“I can see big, cushioned couches,” she explains her vision, but I’m lost in the way her eyes light up even more talking about it.

“You want a ladder like in the movie Beauty and the Beast ?” She looks at me, shocked.

“It was my sister’s favorite movie,” I fill her in, and she just nods.

I make a note on my pad, trying to focus on writing and not how she smells of lavender and vanilla.

“What do you want to do about lighting?” I ask and look up at the ceiling, seeing there isn’t one fixture.

“I’m going to guess there is no wiring to put in some spotlights. ”

“Yeah, I’m guessing they had lamps all over the place.

Which is also what I’m going to have, but I’d love some extra lighting when I have girls’ night.

” She does a circle in the room, and I can imagine she’s picturing what those nights would look like.

She then moves to the corner of the room and points to the side.

“When you walk this way, there are these French doors.” She shows me the doors that look like they are going to fall off the hinges if they’re moved.

One even looks like it’s scratched the wood floor from being opened and closed so many times.

I bend to touch and see how deep it goes, happy it is pretty much just the surface.

“I would like to keep them.” I stand back up and move into the room.

Looking to the right, I see it has a bay window.

The sunlight streaming into the house is almost ethereal.

“What do you want to do with this room?” I ask. She walks over to the window and looks outside before turning to face me.

“I want this to be my office. I would like to have built-in storage.” She motions to the wall under the windows. “There, I can have benches.” I write the note, thinking how kick-ass it would be. “When I have kids, this could be their playroom.”

My eyes quickly go to her hands to see if she’s wearing a ring. My heart feels like it’s stopped in my chest until I see her hands. I literally sigh in relief when I see her hands free of any jewelry. “Are you married?” The words come out before I can even stop them.

Her head tilts to the side as she takes in the question that even I know is inappropriate. It doesn’t fucking matter if she’s married or not, but I have to hear the words. “Not at the moment.”

I nod. “Boyfriend?” I inwardly cringe at the question.

“Not at the moment.” She tries to hide the smirk, but it comes out in full force. “So, for now, it would only be an office. Then, in the future, when I get a boyfriend, then get married and have kids, this would be a nice playroom.”

“It would,” I agree with her.

“Are you married?” I look back at her and shake my head. “Girlfriend?”

I smirk. “Not at the moment.” She stares at me and tries not to laugh, but she can’t stop herself as she turns and walks out of the other set of French doors on the opposite side of the room.

“Good to know.” She moves to the side. “Now this,” she starts as I watch her ass.

When she looks over her shoulder, she catches me, but I quickly look away, and I can see her smirking.

“This is where I want to keep the moldings and everything in almost the exact way it was built.” She points at the ceiling. “But I want to bring in some modern.”

“How so?” I ask her as she points at the far wall. “I love the fireplace”—her hand comes out to touch the red brick of the mantel—“but like maybe paint it.”

“We can try.” I nod. “What we can do is maybe put other stones here.” I walk over to the fireplace. “Depending on what color you’re going with, we can use bigger stones. Very old but stylish at the same time.”

“That sounds so good,” she agrees. “Much better than my idea.”

She moves over to the side where there is a bathroom with no window.

The only light is from the room outside.

From what I can see, the whole thing has to be gutted, and the plumbing has to be redone.

When we get to the kitchen, I see that the cabinets are from the middle of the room to the ceiling and have crown molding all along them. “What do you want to do here?”

“Gut it,” she states, and my eyes go big.

“I know it’s extreme, but I want to open it up.

” She points at the two walls that divide the dining room and the kitchen.

“I want to knock down these two walls.” She walks over to the walls that separate the kitchen and the dining room.

“Have one big space but with a huge island in the middle, with under-the-counter stools on one side, a sink on the other, and I definitely want electricity in the island.”

I walk to the wall and knock on it, hearing the hollowness. “If there isn’t a load-bearing wall, it’ll be an easy fix. If there is, you would have to put a post and a beam.”

“We have to do that since I already have a vision for this room.” She leans her hip against the counter. “If you do end up doing the work?—”

“Oh, I’m going to be doing the work.” I don’t give her a chance to finish that sentence even though I know that taking this on will be a huge project, and I will have to call in extra men instead of saying no or putting her on the list.

“You’re a little sure of yourself, Caleb.” She raises her eyebrows. “We aren’t even sure you’ll have the best bid.” Now my eyebrows go up. “I’m sure you know how this works by now. I have to get more than one quote.”

“Oh, I know exactly how these things are done, Sierra. But, considering I’m practically the only one in town who can do this work, I’m going to go out on a limb and say I’ll have the best quote.

” She chuckles. “Unless you bring out people from the city.” I shrug as I look around.

“That will probably cost some big bucks, considering they will have to bring in their men and have them holed up at the motel while they get the work done.”

“Surely, more than one person in this town does this kind of work.”

“The only other option is the Cartwrights, and with all the court cases against them, you won’t want them to do the work.

” I hold up my hands when she thinks about arguing with me.

“The last development that they did is now sinking into the ground. I don’t think you want someone like that working on your house. ” I wait for her to counter with me.

“Well, then the second part is”—she puts her hand on the counter beside her, her nails clicking on the marble as she taps them—“it will also depend on when you can get the work done.” She crosses one ankle over the other.

“When do you need it done?” I mimic her stance as I lean against the counter across from her. I don’t know why I’m enjoying this so much, but I am.

“I’m moving in,” she says, taking a huge breath, “next week.”

“Sierra,” I say her name, laughing, “there is no way that can happen. Even if we work around the clock. Seven days a week with three crews.” I shake my head.

“What I’m hearing is that you can’t get it done?” She eggs me on.

“I have to bring in electricians and the plumber, and that is an easy fix, if you don’t have to get the house rewired. I know you’re aware that we don’t even know what we are dealing with until we open the walls.”

“Okay.” She nods, giving in. “Can you at least get my bedroom done? I can live here while you guys do the work. I’ll only bring in my bedroom and a desk so I can work.”

“I haven’t even seen upstairs yet,” I remind her. “I don’t like to make promises and then break them.”

“Well then, let’s go.” She pushes off and walks past me, and I follow her up the stairs. “These might have to be reinforced or something.” She looks down at the worn-out stairs.

“They might have to,” I say, trying not to laugh. “I think I can see down to the basement through this crack alone.” I point at the crack on the third step. “They are not safe at all,” I tell her. “But that can be a quick fix while we work on the house.”

“Great.” We head up the U-shaped staircase. “I’d love to have this a dark mahogany with white spindles, but I haven’t decided yet.”

“I would have to see everything you plan to do with the house before I agree to that.”

“Well, it’s a good thing you don’t own the house and work for me,” she quips when we get to the top of the stairs.

“I may work for you, but I’m not going to defile a house because you get a bee in your bonnet.” She turns and quickly walks toward the bedroom.

“Is that the polite way of saying if I don’t get a wild hair up my ass?” My eyes make the mistake of literally looking at her ass.

She spins around and my eyes quickly move back to hers. “Yes, that is the polite way. My mother would knock me on my ass if I was rude.”

“Good to know.” She walks left and opens the two doors that are closed. “This is my bedroom.”

The room is bare, and the floor looks to be in need of sanding and varnishing.

“This doesn’t look too bad.” I look around, seeing the ceiling has plaster crown moldings that have to be handled delicately, and I know exactly who I’m going to call.

He’s retired, but for this, I think he’ll come out of it. “Where is the bathroom?”

She points to the side, and when I walk in, all I can say is, “Oh my.”

“Yeah,” she adds from beside me. “I mean, I guess if you were in the fifties and oozing money, this would be like a wow, but I’m not sure I need a gold tub.

I’m also not sure how I feel about Pepto-Bismol pink.

I mean if I was eight, this would have been my dream instead of the Barbie Dreamhouse, but now, not so much.

” I laugh as I look around at the bathtub that sits right under the bay window.

Gray and pink drapes hang on each side, held open by a gold-tasseled silk rope.

I walk to the closed door, opening it and seeing just a toilet, and closing it back up. “I’d like to add a shower in the room.”

“In that corner,” I suggest, pointing to the side that has an empty space with a linen closet right next to it. “We’ll have to do it all glass, so you don’t cover the window.” She smiles at me.

“I like the way you think.” She takes a deep breath. “So the main question is…” I wait for her to ask the main question. “Can you do this in a week?”

“It’ll be hard, and I’ll probably have to get two sets of crews to come in.” I look at the two rooms, tilting my head. “But for you, I’ll make it happen.”