the Christmas music in the background.
“It’s a long story.”
He gestured to the tree and the overflowing boxes. “We’ve got nothing but time, sweetheart.”
She knew he meant nothing by the endearment. Still, it helped her answer without the customary bitterness that ate away at her whenever she thought about her father’s ultimatum.
“I’m not exactly thrilled about being back in Hope’s Crossing.”
He chuckled. “No kidding?”
“That afternoon, my parents gave me an ultimatum. I have to stay here until I manage to flip my grandmother’s house, which is a complete nightmare. It’s going to take me forever. Pearl had absolutely no design sense whatsoever.”
“What do you mean? When we were kids, we always begged Mom and Dad to drive us past your grandmother’s house to see her Christmas light display.”
She shuddered. “Her hideous Christmas light display, you mean.”
“Kids don’t care about things like that. The bigger and brighter the better as far as the younger set is concerned.”
“And some in the older set. Grandma Pearl, anyway. Her house is…well, something to behold. I packed my suitcase and moved in after my little chat with my dear parents. After just an hour, the magnitude of the task at hand sort of…smacked me in the face and I needed the escape.”
“Ah. That explains a lot. In other words, it was an interior-design crisis. You should have explained that to the judge. ‘Yes, I punched that woman, Your Honor, but there were extenuating circumstances. Two words— shag carpeting.’”
She laughed, amazed at further evidence that Dylan Caine had a sense of humor. “You can joke about it, but you wouldn’t be laughing if you saw the place. Every time I walk through the door, I feel like I’m entering a time warp, discoing back to the seventies.”
“I’m sure it’s not that bad.”
“Oh, it is.”
She told him about some of the low points—the layers after layers of wallpaper, the tile in the bathroom, the blue carpet in a couple of the bedrooms.
“Where are you going to start?”
He seemed genuinely interested—either that or he was only trying to stave off boredom while they decorated the tree.
“I should really gut the place and start over, especially the bathrooms and the kitchen, but I don’t have any kind of budget. I’m going to focus on fixes that are cheap. I’m renting a steamer to take off the wallpaper. I figure I can paint for the cost of a couple buckets.”
“You ever painted a room?”
She made a face. “I have a degree in interior design. I know how to paint a room.”
“You know how, but have you ever actually done it?” “For your information, we had to as part of our course work.” She didn’t add that four of her fellow students had worked together on the assigned project, redecorating a few rooms at a group home in Denver for people with developmental disabilities.
She had mostly cleaned brushes and picked up lunch for the other three, but she figured she had absorbed enough information through the experience that she could pick things up as she went along.
“I’m a long way from painting, anyway. It’s going to take me weeks to steam off the wallpaper.”
“Weeks, huh?”
“I’m not kidding. I counted six layers of wallpaper. I think every time Pearl was in a mood, she would slap up another design on top of what was already there.”
She went on about her plans for the house, and before she realized it, the tree was finished. She had jabbered the entire time, barely aware of it.
He was going to think she was the brainless debutante everyone else did.
“Sorry to ramble.” To her astonished horror, she could feel heat soak her cheeks and knew she must be blushing. “I tend to get carried away.”
“I didn’t mind,” he said gruffly. She had the strangest feeling he wasn’t only saying the words to be nice. Dylan Caine was many things but she wasn’t sure nice was among them.
“Well, I’m sorry
“It’s a long story.”
He gestured to the tree and the overflowing boxes. “We’ve got nothing but time, sweetheart.”
She knew he meant nothing by the endearment. Still, it helped her answer without the customary bitterness that ate away at her whenever she thought about her father’s ultimatum.
“I’m not exactly thrilled about being back in Hope’s Crossing.”
He chuckled. “No kidding?”
“That afternoon, my parents gave me an ultimatum. I have to stay here until I manage to flip my grandmother’s house, which is a complete nightmare. It’s going to take me forever. Pearl had absolutely no design sense whatsoever.”
“What do you mean? When we were kids, we always begged Mom and Dad to drive us past your grandmother’s house to see her Christmas light display.”
She shuddered. “Her hideous Christmas light display, you mean.”
“Kids don’t care about things like that. The bigger and brighter the better as far as the younger set is concerned.”
“And some in the older set. Grandma Pearl, anyway. Her house is…well, something to behold. I packed my suitcase and moved in after my little chat with my dear parents. After just an hour, the magnitude of the task at hand sort of…smacked me in the face and I needed the escape.”
“Ah. That explains a lot. In other words, it was an interior-design crisis. You should have explained that to the judge. ‘Yes, I punched that woman, Your Honor, but there were extenuating circumstances. Two words— shag carpeting.’”
She laughed, amazed at further evidence that Dylan Caine had a sense of humor. “You can joke about it, but you wouldn’t be laughing if you saw the place. Every time I walk through the door, I feel like I’m entering a time warp, discoing back to the seventies.”
“I’m sure it’s not that bad.”
“Oh, it is.”
She told him about some of the low points—the layers after layers of wallpaper, the tile in the bathroom, the blue carpet in a couple of the bedrooms.
“Where are you going to start?”
He seemed genuinely interested—either that or he was only trying to stave off boredom while they decorated the tree.
“I should really gut the place and start over, especially the bathrooms and the kitchen, but I don’t have any kind of budget. I’m going to focus on fixes that are cheap. I’m renting a steamer to take off the wallpaper. I figure I can paint for the cost of a couple buckets.”
“You ever painted a room?”
She made a face. “I have a degree in interior design. I know how to paint a room.”
“You know how, but have you ever actually done it?” “For your information, we had to as part of our course work.” She didn’t add that four of her fellow students had worked together on the assigned project, redecorating a few rooms at a group home in Denver for people with developmental disabilities.
She had mostly cleaned brushes and picked up lunch for the other three, but she figured she had absorbed enough information through the experience that she could pick things up as she went along.
“I’m a long way from painting, anyway. It’s going to take me weeks to steam off the wallpaper.”
“Weeks, huh?”
“I’m not kidding. I counted six layers of wallpaper. I think every time Pearl was in a mood, she would slap up another design on top of what was already there.”
She went on about her plans for the house, and before she realized it, the tree was finished. She had jabbered the entire time, barely aware of it.
He was going to think she was the brainless debutante everyone else did.
“Sorry to ramble.” To her astonished horror, she could feel heat soak her cheeks and knew she must be blushing. “I tend to get carried away.”
“I didn’t mind,” he said gruffly. She had the strangest feeling he wasn’t only saying the words to be nice. Dylan Caine was many things but she wasn’t sure nice was among them.
“Well, I’m sorry
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