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Make Mine A Marine. Candace HavensЧитать онлайн книгу.

Make Mine A Marine - Candace Havens


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the same kind of antebellum architecture that was on the front of the main house. It even had black shutters. She’d expected it to be bare, except for the basics he’d said would be there, but when he opened the doors and switched on the light, she nearly passed out from what was before her.

      “This is so different than what I expected,” she said as she took in the shabby-chic furniture. There was a French daybed that had been made into a little reading nook. On the other side of the room, an office had been set up with a beautiful white desk—very French. Everything was blue and white, except for the curtains, which were a gray-and-white toile.

      “She was in the process of redoing the whole house. But she redid her office first. After she sold the shop, she continued to deal online, so she’d needed a dedicated space away from Dad. He gets—I mean, he got kind of loud when he was watching sports, and it drove her nuts.”

      “Nothing in here is like what she has out in the garage,” she said. All the other items were very formal, very expensive; all of this was also chic, but in a more whimsical way.

      “True. All that junk is pretty stuffy. I’ll show you tomorrow in more detail. Anyway, I was thinking, there’s air-conditioning and a shower and a bed. And you could use it for tonight. There’s even a good lock on the door, so you’d be safe.”

      From him? As if she was worried about that now.

      “Matt, you’re sweet. But I told you—”

      “You’re not a damsel in distress. I know. But I am a worrier. The campgrounds are probably fine, but your ex might have some idea where you are and that bothers me. You said he wasn’t dangerous, but if he’s following your every move... I’d feel better if you were secure. Besides, you can use this as your office until you find more permanent digs. My mom would love that another antiques lover is using her space.

      “And, um. Well...”

      Was she really going to say no to staying in a palace fit for a princess? She couldn’t have dreamed of a more perfect space for herself. “Matt, what is it?”

      “It’s probably asking a lot, given you’ve already agreed to handle the contents of my parents’ house and my new place. But the real estate agent said my parents’ house needed a makeover. I was going to paint and declutter it. Keep it simple. But I might make a lot more money with your insights. You can just add to the fee you were already planning on charging me. And like I said, I’ll have my lawyer draw up a contract, so everything is on the up and up.”

      This guy was unreal. Or desperate.

      “How bad off is the house?” she asked.

      He scrunched up his face. “Uh, yeah... I was kind of hoping you’d say yes before I showed it to you.”

      She chuckled. “That bad?”

      “It’s clean... It’s... Maybe I should show you. And again, it’s okay if you say no. But every agent who came through kind of... Never mind, come with me.”

      He closed the French doors to the pool house.

      They went around the enormous pool to a set of sliding glass doors. When he opened the doors, which led into the kitchen, she stopped abruptly. It was very brown. Everything was very brown. The cabinets, the tiles, even the appliances. It was top of the line a few decades ago, but the agents had been right about the room needing an update. Oh, the checkered brown and white wallpaper with a fruit border had to go.

      It was hard to meld the idea that the same woman who had the office in the pool house lived in this space.

      “So, I can guess what you’re thinking. Since she had such good taste with the furnishings and the pool house, why was she living in the past?”

      “We have a winner.” She gave him a big smile.

      “There are some rooms she finished, like the guest rooms upstairs. But she worked all the time. Dad didn’t like change or mess, so it took her a while to convince him to let her redo the house. It was the only time I ever saw them argue. I mean, I wasn’t home much the last ten years, but every time I came back, she’d done a guest bedroom or bath. There are six of them. But any room Dad lived in, which was most of the downstairs, she was waiting until... And then...”

      They’d died. So sad. It made her want to help him even more.

      He showed her the rest of the house. The furnishings were lovely, but as they went from room to room, she knew of ways to freshen them up. Most of it wouldn’t cost too much.

      “Are there wood floors under the carpet?” There was a lot of carpet. Most of it the short, taupe, shag type.

      “I think so. The house has been here for over a hundred years.” Indeed, and those floors had been protected for a long time. She had a feeling they’d be in great shape.

      “So, Matt. I can help you, but since we’re being honest, I should tell you that I’m not accredited. I went to college for design. But I dropped out my last year.” Much to the chagrin of her parents. She couldn’t blame them for being upset. They believed she had a hard time finishing things, and they weren’t always wrong.

      Then there was her brother—nope. She wouldn’t think about that now. She needed to focus. Worrying about the past and what might have been was something she didn’t do anymore.

      “Are you saying this might be too much?” He looked as if maybe he was going to take back his offer. She couldn’t blame him, either. They were standing at the breakfast bar.

      “No. I’m saying that I don’t want to pretend to be something I’m not. I can do this job, all of it. Your river house, this place and what’s in it as well as what’s in storage. But I want you to understand what you’re getting. I mean, for all you know, I’m some chick who worked at a diner until yesterday and then decided she could decorate.”

      He crossed his arms and then cocked his head as if he was thinking hard about what she’d said. “Nah. I trust you. Besides, you knew all those details about the furniture and you still handed over all that cash.”

      She chuckled and folded her arms across her chest. “You really are desperate.”

      “You have no idea.” As if he’d only then understood what he’d just said, he held up his hands in surrender. “I mean, with the houses. I’m...good...with the other stuff.”

      “Listen, I’ve just drowned my phone, which had a lot of my portfolio on it, but if you have a laptop, I can show you some pictures of rooms I did before I got to Nashville. I worked at a couple of design firms in Italy and Paris. That’s why I left school—to travel the world for inspiration.”

      “I believe you,” he said. “You don’t have to prove anything to me.”

      Right then, a burden lifted off her shoulders. For years, she’d been trying to do just that, whether it was to herself or her parents or her bosses. But Matt had already accepted her for who she was.

      “Thanks. It’s been a long time since someone has been so kind, or even believed in me. So thanks. Just...thanks.”

      Why wouldn’t her mouth remain closed? So embarrassing.

      What is wrong with me? With Matt she was either tongue-tied or couldn’t quit jabbering.

      I’m tired. And he’s hot. Anyone would be confused around all of that sexy man energy. Besides, when was the last time she’d met a guy who was that caring?

      Pretty much never. Guys she met always seemed to want something from her.

      And while Matt needed help, she knew he was one of the good ones.

      “So, you’ll stay in the pool house and advise me with this monstrosity of a house? You can add it to your portfolio. Come on, if you can make this a showplace, that ought to get you jobs anywhere.”

      “The bones are here, and your mom did make a good start upstairs.” A wall of tired hit her and she yawned.


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