Just One Look (Castleton Hearts)

Chapter One

“Hello?” I said, walking around the well-lit furniture showroom. This was exactly what I needed to make my dream cottage, and I’d known since I first looked this place up online. Instantly, I was drawn to a dining table and chairs. The place was empty except for me, so I waited around for a little bit before peering into the back, and then hearing some noises in the large building behind the showroom. I wondered if that was the workshop. Maybe the owner was out there?

I left the showroom via a side door and walked a little stone-strewn path to the large metal-sided structure. The large garage doors were half open.

“Hello?” I called again, and then I heard a voice say, “FUCK!” and there was a clang as if something had fallen. Shit. I hoped they hadn’t been hurt. They probably wouldn’t want to sell me furniture after that.

I knocked at the door to the building and heard more cursing before the door flew open and I looked up into a set of the most glorious green eyes. Pissed off green eyes under long lashes.

“What?” she said, and I moved away from the eyes up to her head covered in reddish-brown curls cut close. The kind of curls that looked fake but were probably natural. Going back down I noted a scar that cut through one eyebrow, a straight nose, and defined jaw and chin. Chiseled, you’d call the lower part of her face. Dangerous, a voice in my head said.

“Can I help you?” Thick arms crossed, revealing bulging biceps that peeked out under the rolled-up sleeves of a red-and-black flannel shirt. Vascular forearms and surprisingly delicate fingers that were networked with tiny white scars.

“Hi,” I said, finally finding my voice. “I’m looking for Ralph?” I’d gotten his name from my sweet neighbor, Paige, who said he had the best furniture and he was local.

Those green eyes narrowed. “Ralph retired.”

“Oh,” I said. “But the shop is still open?” I wished I could just bolt and run back to my car. My mouth was completely dry, and I couldn’t feel my toes.

“He retired and gave it to me,” she said.

“And you are?” I asked. She sighed, clearly annoyed that I’d come to trade money for furniture.

“Theo. The new owner.”

“Theo,” I said. “I’m Kendra. Kendra Day.” Why did I give my last name?

“Well, Kendra Day, I’m Theo Harmon.” Her lips twitched, just barely. As if she was trying not to laugh.

I smiled and waited.

Theo sighed. “Okay, I guess I can show you around.” As if she’d rather have a root canal.

“I really love the dining table,” I said as I struggled to keep up with Theo’s long legs. Our height difference was at least a foot or more.

We went back through the side door and Theo took me to the dining table.

“It’s so beautiful. Did you make it?” I asked.

Theo nodded.

“You’re very talented,” I said, which made Theo’s ears turn just a little pink. How adorable.

“You’ll have to special order it. I can’t sell you the floor model,” she said, going into the back and then coming out with a form.

“Perfect. I’ll also need some other pieces, but I don’t know exactly what. Is it possible for you to come to my house and do measurements and make suggestions?”

Theo just stared at me as if I’d asked her if she could make me a wooden spaceship to go to the moon.

We both jumped as a phone rang, and it turned out to be Theo’s. She took the call and walked toward the back of the showroom.

“What?” she said by way of a greeting. She gave me a glare and then turned and went through a door and I couldn’t hear anything else.

Okay then. This had definitely been a bad idea. Maybe Theo was dealing with something. I should just come on another day. I set the order sheet down on the beautiful table and gave it one last look before heading back out of the showroom.

I never intended to move to Castleton, Maine, but then my grandmother died, and it turned out she’d owned property up here, mainly a bit of shoreline with a little cottage. The place had been neglected and forgotten about for years, as she slowly slipped away from us.

“Miss you, Memma,” I said as I pulled into the driveway and turned the car off.

The cottage was a long way from being livable, but the minute I’d seen the pictures the appraiser sent, I knew it was mine. The lease on my apartment was up, and I’d been looking for something new. After Memma died, I’d had this feeling that something new was on the horizon, I just didn’t know what.

Then Memma’s will had been read and I’d learned about my inheritance. The cottage, and so much money that I had a coughing fit and the lawyer had to get me a glass of water.