“How’s the place coming along?” he asks.
“I’m working on that bookshelf I want in the entrance. I think I’m just procrastinating starting the west wing, because once that begins, it’s a lot of intense and intricate work.”
He chuckles. “Well, I can’t wait to see it. The last time you let me in there, it was just a shell of a place, cement walls and holes where windows should be. Didn’t look like a home at all. The picture you sent of the fireplace was magnificent, though. I’m really impressed.”
“Yeah, man, a lot has changed since you last saw the place. You won’t even recognize it.”
“Feel free to give me another tour anytime.”
“Not yet,” I grin, “but soon.”
“Don’t make me wait until the whole west wing is finished. You said the dining room was functional. Invite us all over for pizza and a beer.”
“Good idea. As soon as I’ve finished a few key pieces in the east wing, we’ll have a party here.”
After the call with my brother, I slide my phone into the back pocket of my torn blue work jeans and glance over the shelving. I have no intention of doing this today; I was just messing around in here, trying to decide how to deal with the confusing emotions I have towards Katerina.
On one hand, I should be letting her go and forgetting this ever happened, as she suggested, but on the other hand, she agreed to my deal. A deal I tricked her into, which was low of me. In all honestly, if she had pushed harder to be let go, I might have caved. But I manipulated her instead. And now she’s staying, and I have a chance to get to know her more.
So that’s how I need to be spending my time.
I’ve stolen some more time with her, and as brief as it might be, I want to make the most of it.
There is so much I don’t know about her. So much to explore. So much to learn. She’s a beautiful mystery to me, and the more I discover, the deeper I fall for her.
Inside, I find Katerina kneeling in front of one of the boxes of books I brought in from the back storage room. She looks happy as she unpacks them into piles, browsing the titles to choose what she wants to read.
“I’m sorting them by genre. Unless you want to stack them in the bookshelf some other way? By spine color? Author name?” she raises her brows, looking up at me from her kneeling position. Her eyes are wide and beautiful, innocent as they catch mine. My mind flickers to places it shouldn’t go.
“You don’t have to do that. I only brought them out here because you wanted something to read,” I say.
She traces her fingers over the books, smiling. “I like the way they smell. These are all first editions,” she says in awe.
“Of course, and most of them are signed,” I grinned.
“I never took you for a man with class, but your taste in architecture, decor, and reading material has proven me wrong.” Her voice is full of playful lightness.
“You should see my vintage tool collection,” I muse.
“Mm. Does that mean you’re also sentimental? My goodness. The shock.” She clutches her hand to her chest and feigns horror, her mouth gaping open and her eyes wide.
“Oh, shush, you,” I laugh, shaking my head.
“What’s this?” she asks, pulling out a large folded document from the book box.
“Oh, that shouldn’t be in there.” I lean over to take it from her.
“But what is it?”
“Blueprints for this place. A copy of them, anyway. The originals are up in the office. I use these in the workshop to reference.”
“Can I see?” she asks, genuine curiosity glittering in her turquoise eyes.
Her interest in my designs excites me. I grin, nodding, gesturing towards the dining room table. She stands up from where she’s kneeling and follows me as I unfold and spread the documents out on the handmade mahogany table.
Katerina climbs onto one of the dining room chairs, kneeling on it and leaning over the blueprint with her elbows on the table and her chin resting in her hands.
“It’s all Greek to me,” she scrunches her nose, her eyes tracing over the thin white lines on the blue paper.
