Page 7 of Snowed In With the Maverick
Andrea swung open the door. Standing on the front stoop was a man in a brown leather jacket, the kind that managed to look rugged and expensive all at once. A Stetson covered his dark brown hair. He had smooth skin with a fresh shave, and piercing blue eyes that matched the sky behind him. Those same eyes ran the course of her body before making contact with hers.
When they finally met hers, there wasn’t a hint of surprise, as if finding a woman mid-demolition was the most natural thing in the world.
She looked behind him and saw a sleek navy-blue sports car parked beside her Jeep Compass. She hadn’t seen many cars like that one since moving out of the city. Tenacity was a town with people who drove beat-up pickup trucks and SUVs with four-wheel drive that could withstand the seasons in the area. Working vehicles.
Cars like that one belonged in Los Angeles, or at least in Bronco Heights, where many of Montana’s wealthy ranching families lived. It wasn’t just the car itself—it was what it signified: power, privilege and the kind of life Andrea had purposefully left behind. Her guard went up, instinctively bracing for whatever this stranger brought with him.
“Andrea Spence?” he said, his voice deep and smooth.
“Yes,” Andrea said. She recognized it the moment he spoke.
The man extended his hand. “I’m Seth Taylor,” he said. “Sorry for coming by unannounced. I was in the area and thought we could follow up on our phone call in person.”
Andrea looked down at her own hand, which was covered in a thick layer of drywall dust. “Sorry, you may not want to—”
“Looks like you’re in the middle of something,” he said, his hand still extended. She shook it. Hopefully, he didn’t mind dirtying up whatever pristine interior that car of his had. “My apologies.” He glanced over her shoulder. “I heard you were fixing up the place. You doing that all on your own? That’s a lot of work.”
Andrea bristled. Did he think she couldn’t handle it? Was this guy the kind of man who doubted a woman’s ability to handle a tool? If so, it was all she needed to know to ask him to take a hike. “Why don’t you come in and have a look?” she asked, suddenly eager to rub his nose in the fact that she was more than capable of doing some basic construction work.
“Thank you,” said Seth. She stood back to let him pass through the doorway. As he removed his Stetson, she noted the close crop of his tidy haircut and the faint scent of what she could tell was a high-quality, expensive cologne, then chastised herself from taking in another long, deep breath. He smelled unbelievable.
“Nice work,” he said, scanning the entranceway. “What’s your plan with the space?”
“I’m knocking down that wall there,” she said. “To open up the living space. It’ll brighten everything up, and the fireplace will be a nice focal point when guests enter the building.”
“Guests?”
“I’m opening this as a guest ranch. There are five rooms upstairs. I’ll start with that, and see how it goes.”
Seth nodded, then looked at her with what appeared to be admiration. “So you’re a paleontologist. A fundraiser. An entrepreneur. And a construction worker too?”
“I like to have hobbies,” Andrea had. She noticed that he’d includedfundraiser. How did he know she was helping out with the Holiday Hoedown? Suddenly, Seth Taylor seemed a little too in the know about her business than she was comfortable with, and she was starting to regret inviting him in.
His attention had shifted to the workbench and for a second, she thought he was about to pick up a tool and give her a hand pulling out a few studs, but instead, he picked up the old pliers she’d found in the wall yesterday. “Huh,” he said. “Haven’t seen one of these in a while.”
“I found it. Behind the drywall,” she said, pointing to where it had been sitting between the studs. “Do you know what they are?”
“It’s an old farrier work tool,” Seth said, turning the tool over in his hand. “Used to make horseshoes.” He grinned. “Look at that. This place came with some built-in good luck.”
Andrea studied him, wondering how someone who looked like he belonged in the power seat of a boardroom knew about a farrier’s work. Even though he wore a cowboy hat, there was something about him that was too smooth and polished. It was unexpected, and she didn’t trust the unexpected.
Seth passed her the tool. “So, like I said, I was hoping to follow up on our conversation from the other day. Do you have a few minutes?”
“Um, not really,” said Andrea. She placed the tool back on her workbench. Could he not see she was busy? “I’m kind of on a deadline here, so I really don’t think I’ll be of much help.”
Seth paused, his eyes searching hers. What else did he know? His confidence was unnerving. “I understand,” he said. “But maybe you’ll just hear me out. I promise I won’t take more than twenty minutes.” He was as persistent as he was handsome, Andrea was starting to realize.
She hesitated. If he knew she was helping with the fundraiser, clearly, he was well connected to this community. The last thing she wanted was to make a bad name for herself. She’d let him say whatever he’d come here to say, then send him on his way feeling like he’d at least been listened to. “Alright,” she said. “Just give me a few minutes to wash up. Can I get you a coffee?”
“I’d love that. Thank you,” Seth said. “I’ll wait right here.”
Andrea scaled the staircase to the second-floor bathroom and shut the door behind her, and started to scrub her hands in the sink. Now she was inviting him in for coffee? Did she have no defense against charming, handsome men who were as self-assured as a king on his throne?
She wiped her hands on a towel and let out a sigh of exasperation. Clearly, she did not.
* * *
Seth surveyed the front area of the ranch and the work Andrea had already done. He wasn’t sure what he’d expected when he’d arrived at her door. But the breathless, lightly perspiring woman, with small tendrils of red hair escaping from her ponytail, cheeks flushed and blue eyes sparkling with surprise—it wasn’t that.
