He’d longed to consult with her. That was gratifying. “I’d say both.”
“That’s what I did because I heard your voice in my head.” He flipped a switch and the chandelier in the entryway sparkled above them.
Her breath caught as rainbows danced around them. “You kept it.” And didn’t he look kissable in this magical light. She banished the thought.
“Duh.” He unzipped his jacket. “It’ll be a pain to keep clean, but Greta loves it, too, and she’s promised to polish the crystals once a month.”
“Is she still talking about running a little café in here?”
“Absolutely. Which reminds me, I need to start the permitting process on that.”
“Is everybody on board?” She unbuttoned her coat but left it on. The house was warmer than the porch but not by much. “I seem to remember that initially Grandma Doris had trouble picturing a hoard of strangers in her late mother-in-law’s beloved house.”
“That was before she met with Desiree McLintock, aka M.R. Morrison and got fired up about having her do signings over here.”
“Desiree came over here? And I missed it?”
“It was a surprise visit and she didn’t stay long. I started to text you but Mila said not to bother. You were in Missoula at a conference.”
“Damn.”
“She’ll be back. She loved the house and can’t wait to do a signing once we’re open.” He turned and walked toward the arched entrance to the parlor. “Come see what they’ve done in here.”
She followed him and breathed in the scent of freshly cut lumber. “I don’t suppose the road will be fixed by summer.”
“I wish, but that’s asking for a miracle” He turned on overhead lights in a space that used to be lit by table and floor lamps. The stained-glass fixtures hanging from the high ceiling preserved the ambiance while adding necessary light for shoppers.
“I like those.” She pointed to them.
“I thought you would. That’s why I chose ’em.”
Evidently she’d been constantly on his mind the past six weeks. By keeping her distance, she’d increased the drama. No more of that nonsense. “The bookshelves around the perimeter makes it look more like a library than a bookshop.”
“That’s what we’re going for. We’ll have a couple of display tables in the middle. And some easy chairs in the nooks.”
“And all fiction in here, right?”
“Yep. Nonfiction in the room across the hall.”
“Angie’s crew does good work.” She stroked the satin-smooth wood. “Nice grain. Smells good, too.”
“Sure does.” A huskiness in his voice sent shivers down her spine.
She immediately stopped stroking the wood. “What’s their name?”
“Who?”
Had he lost track of the conversation? She was afraid to look at him for fear they’d have another hot connection like they’d experienced at the meeting. “Angie’s construction company.”
“Two Handywomen and an Irishman. They’ll be back tomorrow and plan to stay through Sunday. You should stop by.”
“Are you coming in tomorrow?”
“Thought I would.”
Since staying away from him had increased the tension, maybe she should try the opposite tactic. “My midday is fairly open. If you were here around noon, we could grab lunch at the Raccoon.”
“I’d like that.”
