“I’ve never been there.”
“That’s true. All the more reason to be cautious. It’s not a good time to get involved with anyone.”
“I agree. Let’s go check out the bookstore.” She fastened her seatbelt.
He clicked his into place, too, and put the truck in reverse. The air was thick with tension, even worse than when they’d been tucked into a corner at the Raccoon because now they were alone.
She wanted to be held, to be loved. He could see it in her eyes, hear it in her voice. And God help him, he wanted to give her what she craved.
CHAPTER FOUR
Adam’s conclusion made sense. Tracy hated to admit that she might just be reacting to Sean’s rejection by grabbing the first available cowboy, who happened to be Adam. But if he was right, she needed to douse this flame ASAP.
If she could put a lid on her reaction, she’d likely smother the fire she’d lit in him. Right now, they were feeding each other’s desire, but if she turned off the heat, they had a chance of getting back to normal.
The drive to the stately Victorian on the edge of town didn’t take long. Surrounded by a large tract of land, the three-story mansion had been in the family since it was built by Jeremiah Bridger in 1897.
Adam’s great-grandma Lucy had lived there well into her nineties but had finally moved out to Laughing Creek. During the ten years it had sat empty, the Bridgers had debated what to do with it. Now they had a plan.
Adam took the circular drive and stopped in front of the wide steps leading up to the porch. “We haven’t decided how to handle parking. We’ve created a temporary side lot during construction and that might be where we put one for visitors. Nobody wants one in front of the house.”
“I’m glad. The circular drive is part of the elegance.” She unsnapped her seat belt and opened her door. “You want an unobstructed view of the house.” Climbing out, she shut the door and waited for him at the base of the steps.
Gazing up at the bay windows of a graceful turret flooded her with memories. She’d been a princess in a castle when she’d played there as a kid. “I love this house.”
“Me, too.” He came up beside her and pulled a key from his pocket. “A part of me wanted to keep everything the way it was.”
“You could have turned it into a museum.”
“That didn’t appeal to me, either. Selfishly I wanted to leave it alone so my kids could play in it like we did.”
Warmth filled her chest. He’d make a great dad. “Maybe they still can.” She climbed the steps.
“Maybe.”
“Will you put chairs out on the porch?”
“We will once it warms up. I picture folks buying a couple of books and then sitting on the porch to read for a while. Great advertising.”
“No kidding. If they don’t naturally do it, you should pay someone to sit there and read.”
He laughed. “Good idea.”
“Will you have signage out by the road?”
“Yep. Something classy. Trent’s in charge of that.”
“Who’s Trent?”
“The marketing director for L’Amour and More Bookshops. He’s been a little distracted lately since he and his wife just had a baby girl, but he’s promised to come up with a design in the next couple of weeks.”
“I’ve really been out of the loop.”
“You need to get back in. I can’t tell you the number of times I wanted to ask your opinion.” He unlocked the carved front door and ushered her inside.
“My legal opinion? I hope you didn’t pay a lawyer just because?—”
“Your personal opinion, like on the shelving options and whether a reading nook should be by a window or off in a corner, or both.”
