Tessa’s eyes widened. “That’s where Crazy Kate lives.”
“Excuse me?” Austen asked. His thick, black eyebrows disappeared behind the hair brushing across his forehead.
Paul chuckled, and Tessa cleared her throat. “Kate Muir?”
Austen nodded. “That’s her.”
In a desperate attempt to make up for her disrespect, Tessa said, “She has a lot of beautiful suncatchers. Just don’t let any of them fall into your hands, because she’ll never forget it.”Tessa, stop talking.
Austen and Paul exchanged puzzled looks. “Thanks,” Austen said, reaching out to shake Tessa’s hand.
His grip was firm, and Tessa winced. She rubbed her fingers as Paul and Austen said good-bye. Paul closed the door and walked across the room to pluck a caramel cream off the coffee table.
“Seems a shame that something so rare is owned by someone who won’t care except for its salability,” Paul said. “You sure you can’t market that house in the next couple of days to someone who might actually want to rehab it? It shouldn’t be demolished.”
His words caused her heart to race. She wiped her sweaty palms on her pants. Honeysuckle Hollow could be someone’s home again, andsheneeded a place to live. Tessa stared at the wall map. Her eyes traced the silver pushpins, following Paul’s travels. She was amazed by his ability to go and go and go and never yearn for thatoneplace to return to every evening, thatoneplace that was his.
Tessa thought about her condo. This time the idea of letting go didn’t twinge as bad. There was nothing else left there that she could salvage. She’d saved everything she could, and her few possessions crowded the apartment, waiting to be taken to a new home. A voice in her head asked,Would the money from the condo sale be enough to buy and rehab Honeysuckle Hollow?She had a savings account that had been growing for years—although she’d never decided what she was saving the money for. A house for a family one day? A European vacation? Retirement? Maybe for all of those or none. She just might be able to afford to buy the house, but would there be enough money for renovations? “I can’t buy Honeysuckle Hollow.”
Paul’s laugh swelled against the living room walls and wrapped around Tessa’s shoulders. She looked at him. “I’m not implying thatyoubuy it. Someone with rehab experience. Someone who wants a challenge.”
Tessa huffed. “I have experience with properties.” Thoughts of Honeysuckle Hollow in ruins ballooned in her head until her left eye twitched. Her pulse throbbed in her neck and then at her temples.
“You’re a real estate agent.”
Tessa fisted her hands on her hips. “And you’re a travel writer with a master’s in architecture. I can’t have other skills?”
“Do you?” he asked. Then he held up his hands in defense. “Do you haverehabbingskills?”
“Some.” She picked upGuests of Honeysuckle Hollowand waved it at Paul. “This housesavedpeople. It was there for hundreds of them. I can’t let it go.”
Paul’s expression shifted from serious to gentle. “I appreciate your spunk, and I’ve got a soft spot for that house now too. I can’t quit thinking about it, but that’s a massive undertaking, and maybe it’s best suited for professionals.”
Tessa’s shoulders slumped. He was right, of course. She could call in help for the construction and labor, but would she have enough money to complete a project of that size? The house wasn’t even livable at present. She dropped the book onto a couch cushion.
Paul held out a caramel cream in his palm. “Talk about taking the wind out of someone’s sails. With your enthusiasm, I bet you can do anything you set your mind to, but I’m trying to be a voice of reason.”
“I hear you, Jiminy Cricket, but that doesn’t mean I like what I hear.”
Paul grinned. “How about I fix dinner?”
Tessa reached for the candy. “Aren’t you leaving?”
“Are you pushing me out of town? Ready to have this place all to yourself?”
Tessa unwrapped the candy and sighed. “Not really.” Technically, she didn’t really know Paul, but, like kudzu covering a house, in the past two days he’d become tangled around nearly every aspect of her life. Tessa was currently homeless, without a car of her own, and possibly trying to make a ridiculous life-altering decision, and Paul seemed to be the only stable part.
His blue eyes crinkled around the edges when he smiled. “I have the perfect dinner idea.” He walked into the kitchen and opened the refrigerator. “But I’m not sure we have all the ingredients. It’s a dish I ate in Australia.”
“We can go to the grocery store,” Tessa said. “What’s the dish?”
Paul closed the refrigerator. “It’s perfect for the occasion. It has polenta-crusted poached eggs and Spanish chorizo served on top of crispy corn tortillas with a sprinkle of roasted mushrooms and queso fresco. It’s called Thieves on the Run. Perfect for us, yeah?”
Tessa groaned, and Paul laughed.
“I’m rethinking my decision on whether I want you to stay a little longer. And for the last time, I didn’tstealthe spear.”
“Yeah, yeah, so, we’ll call it Borrowers on the Run. Better?”
