and find out,” Maggie suggested, with no small amount of sarcasm. “Or you could wait until your guest dies on your front porch and read the obituary in the paper.”
The knocking sounded again, more insistent this time, and Ash crept toward the door, speaking in a hoarse whisper. “I’m not really presentable. I just got out of the shower. I have on yoga pants and a tank top and no makeup.”
“It’s probably some little old neighbor lady who can barely see. She won’t care whether you have on makeup.”
Ash hopped as high as possible, but couldn’t see out the small windows in the top of the wooden door. “I guess it could be Erin Walker. She’s the girl who talked me into adopting Lucky. I think I told her I was living here.”
“Just open it already.”
“Okay, fine.” Ash unlocked the deadbolt and cracked the heavy door open, peering out at her visitor. Her heart did a double flip inside her chest, and she slammed the door closed. “Cripes!”
“Ash, did you just shut the door on somebody?” Maggie demanded.
“It’s him.”
“Him? Who are you talking about?”
“It’s Adam Walker.”
ADAM KNOCKED ON THE door, his stomach churning as he stood on the familiar front porch. He almost expected to see his sweet Grammy open the door and beckon him inside, squeezing him in a hug and exclaiming over how big he’d grown, which she’d done for eight years after he’d stopped growing. Beside him, Kujo sat at on his haunches, grey eyes intent on the door, as if awaiting the opportunity to rush inside and terrorize the cat which now resided within, along with the blond-haired, blue-eyed stranger named Ash. Yesterday he’d been surprised at his strong response to her, a captivating beauty that tempted him to end his long dating hiatus.
But that was before.
Before his sister-in-law told him all about the woman from New York City. Before he knew the girl he’d admired actually believed Romance was too boring as it was. Before he learned she had plans to bring the big city to their small peaceful town. Before he found out she wanted to destroy the historic Scott house... the house that should be his.
Granted, his grandmother had the right to leave her money and possessions to whomever she pleased, and she’d left a generous portion to his parents and brothers in addition to the charitable foundation. But Adam had spent so many hours at her feet, listening to stories of the past, learning about the house’s history, he thought she knew how much he loved that home.
He missed Grammy so much. It seemed so wrong for a stranger to buy the house and change it to her liking, with no regard for Grammy’s history and legacy.
He couldn’t understand why his grandmother would’ve put the house in the foundation without stipulations to keep it in the family. Then, a dark thought made his throat tighten. Maybe Grammy didn’t consider him true family. No, that couldn’t be it. She’d even hinted she might give the house to him and Darla as a wedding present when that event had seemed imminent.
He knocked again, frustrated with his task and irritated that Ash wasn’t answering. Maybe I’ll leave and tell Erin she wasn’t home. It’s not my fault that little usurper didn’t come to the door.
He turned to leave, tugging on Kujo’s leash, but the gargantuan dog’s ears perked, eyes fixed on the door and head cocked to the side. Adam twisted back as the lock clicked and the door cracked open, a set of bright blue eyes peering through the slit and widening in surprise. The door slammed shut.
Adam’s blood boiled in his veins. He stomped forward and banged until his knuckles throbbed. A brief pause followed, during which he stared daggers through the white painted wooden door and practiced a few scathing remarks in his head. Did you slam the door in my face because you can’t spare the time of day for a small town guy like me? Or are New Yorkers simply rude to all visitors?
A handle rattled and the door swung slowly on its creaking hinges, he took a breath, ready to blast her with his wrath. But the air flew out of his lungs like a burst balloon when he saw her... eyes downcast, damp hair across her scrunched shoulders, biting her plump lower lip.
“I’m sorry.” Her startling blue eyes lifted to peer through thick blond lashes, and the hastily constructed shield with which he’d covered his heart clattered to the floor. Her trembling fingers tucked a stray strand of damp blond hair behind an ear. “I didn’t mean to shut the door in your face, but I wasn’t expecting visitors. I was unpacking and... well... to be honest, I haven’t put on my makeup or dried my hair. I didn’t want anyone to see me like that—especially you.”
Her eyes rounded as her hand flew up and clamped over her mouth, her cheeks turning pink. Adam bit back a smile. Her little slip made him want to dance a jig, even though only moments before he’d been convinced she was evil incarnate, come to steal and destroy his family’s heritage. Perhaps she was innocent—simply ignorant of all the history bound up in the beautiful old house. He might be able to convince her of the importance of his grandmother’s home and talk her into preserving its authenticity. Sure, he’d once dreamed of living in it, but that was before he purchased his little ranch in the country.
“I think you look great without makeup,” he responded honestly.
“Oh.”
Her flush spread up to her temples and down her neck, and he wondered if he’d said something wrong. “Not that you didn’t look good with makeup.” He pushed his fingers through his hair, struggling for words. “What I meant to say is you’re beautiful either way.”
A tinny voice yelled from the phone in her hand, and she startled, lifting it to her now-crimson face. “I’m sorry, Maggie. I’ll call you later, okay?”
“Who’s Maggie?” he asked, happy to change the subject.
“Maggie’s my roommate.” She stepped back, gesturing for him to enter. “Better keep a tight hold on that leash.”
“You have a roommate?” He stepped inside, her fresh clean scent wafting his way as he passed by. He felt a pang as he spied his grandmother’s antique furniture in the living area along with a stack of neatly-folded dust covers in the corner of the room. He hadn’t seen these pieces since he’d helped move Grammy into her assisted living apartment over a year ago, when she’d been forced to pare down her furnishings. On her orders, he and his three brothers carefully covered the heirloom furniture and removed all the family pictures from the walls, packing away any photos Grammy didn’t hang up in her new place.
“Had a roommate.” Ash wriggled her toes as she shifted from one small bare foot to the other, drawing his eyes to her bright pink toenails. Even her feet were cute. “Maggie still lives in New York, although I’d love for her to come live with me here. I hate living alone. Besides, she’d be a lot of help redecorating—Maggie has great taste.”