Page 10 of Forgotten Dreams

“Are you married?” I look back at her and shake my head. “Girlfriend?”

I smirk. “Not at the moment.” She stares at me and tries not to laugh, but she can’t stop herself as she turns and walks out of the other set of French doors on the opposite side of the room.

“Good to know.” She moves to the side. “Now this,” she starts as I watch her ass. When she looks over her shoulder, she catches me, but I quickly look away, and I can see her smirking. “This is where I want to keep the moldings and everything in almost the exact way it was built.” She points at the ceiling. “But I want to bring in some modern.”

“How so?” I ask her as she points at the far wall. “I love the fireplace”—her hand comes out to touch the red brick of the mantel—“but like maybe paint it.”

“We can try.” I nod. “What we can do is maybe put other stones here.” I walk over to the fireplace. “Depending on what color you’re going with, we can use bigger stones. Very old but stylish at the same time.”

“That sounds so good,” she agrees. “Much better than my idea.”

She moves over to the side where there is a bathroom with no window. The only light is from the room outside. From what I can see, the whole thing has to be gutted, and the plumbing has to be redone. When we get to the kitchen, I see that the cabinets are from the middle of the room to the ceiling and have crown molding all along them. “What do you want to do here?”

“Gut it,” she states, and my eyes go big. “I know it’s extreme, but I want to open it up.” She points at the two walls that divide the dining room and the kitchen. “I want to knock down these two walls.” She walks over to the walls that separate the kitchen and the dining room. “Have one big space but with a huge island in the middle, with under-the-counter stools on one side, a sink on the other, and I definitely want electricity in the island.”

I walk to the wall and knock on it, hearing the hollowness. “If there isn’t a load-bearing wall, it’ll be an easy fix. If there is, you would have to put a post and a beam.”

“We have to do that since I already have a vision for this room.” She leans her hip against the counter. “If you do end up doing the work?—”

“Oh, I’m going to be doing the work.” I don’t give her a chance to finish that sentence even though I know that taking this on will be a huge project, and I will have to call in extra men instead of saying no or putting her on the list.

“You’re a little sure of yourself, Caleb.” She raises her eyebrows. “We aren’t even sure you’ll have the best bid.” Now my eyebrows go up. “I’m sure you know how this works by now. I have to get more than one quote.”

“Oh, I know exactly how these things are done, Sierra. But, considering I’m practically the only one in town who can do this work, I’m going to go out on a limb and say I’ll have the best quote.” She chuckles. “Unless you bring out people from the city.” I shrug as I look around. “That will probably cost some big bucks, considering they will have to bring in their men and have them holed up at the motel while they get the work done.”

“Surely, more than one person in this town does this kind of work.”

“The only other option is the Cartwrights, and with all the court cases against them, you won’t want them to do the work.” I hold up my hands when she thinks about arguing with me. “The last development that they did is now sinking into the ground. I don’t think you want someone like that working on your house.” I wait for her to counter with me.

“Well, then the second part is”—she puts her hand on the counter beside her, her nails clicking on the marble as she taps them—“it will also depend on when you can get the work done.” She crosses one ankle over the other.

“When do you need it done?” I mimic her stance as I lean against the counter across from her. I don’t know why I’m enjoying this so much, but I am.

“I’m moving in,” she says, taking a huge breath, “next week.”

“Sierra,” I say her name, laughing, “there is no way that can happen. Even if we work around the clock. Seven days a week with three crews.” I shake my head.

“What I’m hearing is that you can’t get it done?” She eggs me on.

“I have to bring in electricians and the plumber, and that is an easy fix, if you don’t have to get the house rewired. I know you’re aware that we don’t even know what we are dealing with until we open the walls.”

“Okay.” She nods, giving in. “Can you at least get my bedroom done? I can live here while you guys do the work. I’ll only bring in my bedroom and a desk so I can work.”

“I haven’t even seen upstairs yet,” I remind her. “I don’t like to make promises and then break them.”

“Well then, let’s go.” She pushes off and walks past me, and I follow her up the stairs. “These might have to be reinforced or something.” She looks down at the worn-out stairs.

“They might have to,” I say, trying not to laugh. “I think I can see down to the basement through this crack alone.” I point at the crack on the third step. “They are not safe at all,” I tell her. “But that can be a quick fix while we work on the house.”

“Great.” We head up the U-shaped staircase. “I’d love to have this a dark mahogany with white spindles, but I haven’t decided yet.”

“I would have to see everything you plan to do with the house before I agree to that.”

“Well, it’s a good thing you don’t own the house and work for me,” she quips when we get to the top of the stairs.

“I may work for you, but I’m not going to defile a house because you get a bee in your bonnet.” She turns and quickly walks toward the bedroom.

“Is that the polite way of saying if I don’t get a wild hair up my ass?” My eyes make the mistake of literally looking at her ass.

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