Should've Said No (10 page)

“What brings you guys around?” Carden asked, polite enough not to add “this time of night.” Granted it was only nine forty-five, but still.

“We were headed into town for our poker game,” Dean said. “I asked Fred to pull in here so we could settle up for the work you did at the cabin.”

“That could’ve waited,” Carden said lightly. “No hurry.”

“Don’t like my debts collecting dust.” Dean reached into his pants pocket and pulled out a wad of bills clasped in a shiny silver money clip.

Fred scrunched his face, shook his head, and grinned. “Any man who brings that much money to a poker game is just planning to lose.”

Dean cut a look at Fred, and set his amused gaze on Lindsey. “We’ll see what kind of song he’s singing tomorrow.” He pulled his money out of the clip. “What’s the damage, Carden? I imagine it took you a couple of hours over there.”

It had taken Carden at least that long, and more. Especially with the to-do list Lindsey had tacked on. Even though her list was short, the repairs had revealed another problem that led to his trip to the hardware store, and an evening waxing window channels and tinkering with the toilet.

Carden held up his hand, palm out. “Don’t worry about it. I’m happy to help.”

Fred nodded, a glint of humor in his eyes. “See there? Carden thinks you’re gonna need that money at the poker game, too.”

“You, my friends, just don’t know a winner when you see one.” Dean tipped his head toward Carden. “But I do appreciate your hard work.”

Carden dipped his chin. “Anytime you need something done over there…” He shrugged his sturdy shoulders and Lindsey had a flashback to them bared in the moonlight, a sexy tribal design tattoo inked in black over the right one, trailing down his arm past his biceps.

“Now that you mention it,” Dean said, “the place is overdue for a coat of paint. I hate to imagine what Lindsey must’ve thought when she drove up and saw it in the state it’s in.”

Did Carden remember the sass in her voice that first night when she’d asked him if he was Dean? She’d been good and ready to give him a pointed piece of her mind after she’d sacrificed her gum to fix the house number. Thinking back on it now made her smile. “I loved the wildflowers in the yard,” she said, recalling the one bright spot of her first impression of 410 Primrose Street.

Dean appeared pleased for a second but then his expression went flat. “Guess the grass could use a good cutting, too.”

Carden raised his eyebrows. “Like I said, I’m happy to help out. Both of those jobs would be easy enough to do.”

Lindsey knew better, at least when it came to the “coat of paint.” The entire exterior of the cabin would need scraping, sanding, and priming for a paint job to do any good. It would take days to get it all done—maybe weeks, depending on the weather. Days of Carden hanging around working…

Shirtless in the sun.

The idea both tempted and terrified her. Of course she wanted him around. What woman wouldn’t? But she’d do best to keep her distance from him—personally and professionally. Getting her heart crushed by another serial bachelor was definitely not on her to-do list. Not only that, she couldn’t risk people in town associating the two of them. Forget that his fingerprints were all up and down her thighs, and hers on each cut of his abs. She had to appear objective when it came to the Crenshaws and the Karlssons. Aunt Tansy and Uncle Oscar could never find out what had happened between her and Carden. Getting closer to him would be discourteous to her aunt and uncle, at least until the museum issue was sorted and everyone was satisfied.

“You sure you’re not too busy with the trust and the ranch?” Dean asked Carden.

“Or with those magazine people who’re coming out here to do another spread on you?” Fred asked.

Carden winced. “Where’d you hear about that?”

Fred glanced around sheepishly, and Lindsey barely had time to feel sorry for the poor man, she was so busy thinking about what he’d just said. There was a lot she didn’t know about Carden, and she’d be wise to beware. He was clearly a big deal businessman—the town’s super-rich, smokin’-hot single guy who’d already been highlighted in one magazine and was soon to be featured in another. She’d seen how that kind of resume could bloat a guy’s ego—she’d lived it when she dated Hopper. There had to be a reason Carden was still single at thirty-two, and it might just go beyond the general consensus that he hadn’t found the right girl yet.

“Stella happened to mention it the other day when I dropped off some blueberries I’d just picked on the farm.” Fred shook his head. “I didn’t know it was a secret.”

“Nothing is around here, is it?” Carden smiled ruefully and Fred brightened up again.

“That’ll be the second time they’ve put you in a magazine recently, right?” Fred gave him a grandfatherly pat on the back. “You’re making this town real proud, son. I know your mom and dad are happy to see all the good you’re doing around here.”

“Couldn’t agree more,” Dean said.

Carden pressed his lips together tightly and nodded once. “That’s nice of you guys to say. Now if I can just figure out a way to keep my grandmother quiet.”

“You might get yourself a Nobel Prize for that,” Dean said, and the men laughed.

Carden set his gaze on Dean. “We going to go with the same color for the cabin, or are you ready for something different?”

Lindsey’s heart tumbled. Both men had given him an out for a job that promised to be brutal, but he hadn’t taken it.

“I think it’d be nice if Lindsey picked the color.” Dean raised his brows at her, his eyes glinting as if he’d offered her a string of rare pearls and couldn’t wait for her reaction.

“Me?” The eighteenth last thing Lindsey needed—or maybe the twentieth, at this point she’d lost count—was the pressure of picking a paint color for the cabin. But she hated to disappoint Dean. Boy, hadn’t things turned upside down.

Dean nodded. “I’m betting you’ve got better taste than the three of us guys combined.”

Under the pressure of all the men’s gazes Lindsey said, “I’d love to pick a color.”

Dean grinned, his eyes narrowing until they were nearly closed. “Hope it’ll make you feel right at home.” He peeled several bills from his stack of cash and handed them to Carden. “This should cover the supplies—and don’t you dare say no.”

Lindsey caught a glimpse of at least two hundreds as Carden clutched the money in his fist.

Must be a high-stakes game of poker they’re headed to…

And she could definitely relate. She was carrying on a similar game herself.

Dean clapped Carden on the shoulder. “Appreciate you taking on the job.”

“Don’t mention it.” Carden looked away from the men and cast a sultry glance at Lindsey. “It’ll be my pleasure.”

Chapter 12

Lindsey sat at her makeshift desk in the soon-to-be museum, set up in a quiet corner in the large room beyond the main one. Ultimately she’d have a small office, but creating administrative space for her and her staff would have to come after the more important renovations and exhibit construction were under way.

She pinched her eyes closed, trying to corral her thoughts and ideas. They kept darting in every imaginable direction and some of them even escaped. Her proposal for the museum layout and exhibits was due to the board of directors for review by close of business today, and it would help if her nerves weren’t teetering on their edges. Would they like it? Despite the unexpected small-town setting, this was the chance she’d longed for during her miserable year of unemployment. She glanced at the antique clock on her desk, donated by a woman whose grandmother had kept it on her desk when she was a teacher at the original Thistle Bend School back in the mining days. Its face had faded to sepia over the years, and its silver casing was worn to a matte patina, but it still kept time precisely.

Nearly two o’clock…

Just a few hours before all the pieces of Lindsey’s proposal had to be put together and polished. Last night after Carden had shown her the model town that the Crenshaws were donating, she’d tossed and turned for hours, arranging and rearranging her ideas for incorporating it into her plans. It was the centerpiece she’d been longing to find, but she hadn’t imagined experiencing it in quite the way she had. How could she see it every day at work and not think about the sexy scene between her and Carden in his workshop? His insistent kiss. His strong hands around her waist, lifting her onto his workbench. His long fingers sliding the strap of her sundress off her shoulder. Lindsey rubbed her lips together, recalling the sweet sensations of what had come next.

“Limeade break.” A woman’s voice rang out behind her, swirling up into the exposed rafters.

Holly?

Lindsey turned in her chair to see that she’d guessed right. Holly stood there with a large to-go cup in each hand, holding one out to Lindsey. She wore skinny jeans and a flowing top, three-quarter-sleeved with the shoulders cut out. A pair of short boots completed her unique look.

“You’re so sweet. Thank you.” Lindsey took the limeade, pulled the paper off the end of the straw, and took a big swallow. “Mmm…” She smiled and nodded. “This is totally homemade.”

“At Calypso Coffee, all summer long.” Holly handed her a small, wire-bound book. “And here’s your wildflower guide.”

Lindsey set her limeade on her desk and flipped through the pages. “Sweet. Even if I only learn one a day, I’ll be making progress.”

“That’s a good plan.”

“Your outfit is adorable. You have to take me shopping.”
In a month or two.
Lindsey gestured to her city-girl clothes that she’d toned down from all business to business casual. She’d have to make the best of what she had until steady paychecks started coming in. And Holly’s style would work for casual wear in D.C. when Lindsey made her way back. She took another sip of her limeade, realizing she’d been so busy—and distracted by Carden—that she hadn’t thought about that part of her plan in days.

“Sounds like fun.” Holly stepped over to the desk. “The boutiques here have some super-cute stuff that’s really unique. Lots of women come down from the ski resort on Paintbrush Peak to shop here. If you want, we could go to Gunnison. They’ve got a couple of neat stores there that cater to the college crowd—but the styles would work for us, too. That’s only about a half hour away.” Her eyes brightened. “Or, we could make a day trip to Carbondale.”

“I’d like that,” Lindsey said. “As long as you promise to be my fashion police.” Even though she was kind of broke and not big into shopping, now that she’d be getting a paycheck, she’d love to get some more laid-back clothes that fit in here. Despite her lack of patience with going from store to store and rack to rack, she used to shop with Becca every so often. She trusted Becca to tell her if something she tried on looked truly awful. Holly seemed like the type that would be honest, too.

“For sure.” Holly sipped her limeade. “Friends don’t let friends make frightening fashion choices.”

Lindsey dragged a chair over from the ones surrounding the table she, Holly, Stella, and Tansy had sat around on her first day. It had since been moved to the back room and was now being used as a conference table. And a lunch table. And a spread-all-your-papers-out-on-it table. Like everything and everyone else around there, it had to be multi-purpose.

“Have a seat,” Lindsey said.

Holly dropped onto the chair and propped her elbow on the corner of the desk. “So cool that you’ve got a staff now. Darlene said people are coming in and asking lots of questions. Even donating money now that they can see things really happening here.”

“It’s pretty exciting. I think seeing Darlene at her desk right up front encourages people to stop in when they’re walking by.” Lindsey’s new assistant had proven to be a real find, efficiently attending to drop-ins and volunteers, freeing up some of Lindsey’s time to work on bigger-picture projects, like her proposal.

Holly swept her gaze over the books and papers strewn across Lindsey’s desk. “Looks like you’re keeping busy.”

Lindsey scrunched her face. “My layout and exhibit proposal is due to the board in, oh, say, three hours. I thought I had it squared away, but an unexpected donation turned things a little upside down.” She made a point not to mention Carden, although Holly had to be curious about him after the conversation between the three of them in the ice-cream shop the other night. “Hopefully they’ll like my ideas. I’d hate to disappoint them with my first proposal.”

“I’m not the least bit worried about that,” Holly said. “But I’m happy to take a look if you want to run it by me.”

“Do you have time? Since you’ve been a volunteer and heard a lot of talk, you probably have a pretty good understanding of what they’re looking for.”

“I’ve been privy to a conversation or two.” Holly grinned. “Show me what you’ve got.”

Lindsey turned her computer monitor so Holly could see it. She brought up her proposal, nervous to reveal her plans yet determined not to let it show. Her confidence had helped her land this job—along with Oscar and Tansy. Why had it gone shaky now? She drew in a bolstering breath. “Okay. Since the front room has a lot of the original bones of the gas station/hardware store, I’m thinking we can restore them for use and maintain the historic authenticity of the building—maybe even display some of the products that were still on the shelves when the store shut down years ago.”

She clicked to a diagram of the main room and pointed to her monitor. “See how the old shop counters run the length of the room on either side? We can keep them and use the product display cases and shelves for exhibit space. The aisles behind the counters would be ideal areas to station docents to interact with visitors. And what better place for admission transactions than up front at the old checkout counter?” Lindsey’s heart was running as fast as her mouth. Worried she was babbling, or maybe selling too hard, she shut up for a second.

Holly raised her cup. “I love those ideas.”

Lindsey smiled and exhaled…a little. “Whew. I hope everyone else will, too. There are so many people to please.”