The Wishing Season (6 page)

He checked out the bathrooms. The plumbing was ancient but in decent shape. The bedrooms needed additional electrical
outlets, and the whole upstairs was in dire need of decent lighting. The fancy draperies would have to go eventually, but that could wait.

He was making good progress on his hardware store list when Lizzy called. She didn’t have many friends, but with all the attention she got from the boys, she was a train wreck waiting to happen. Cole was going to do everything in his power to make sure she wasn’t taken advantage of.

He asked after their foster parents, and they chatted until she had to get off the phone. He told her he loved her before he hung up. Although Becky and Greg told her that often, he knew she needed to hear it a lot. Her father had abandoned her at birth, and her mother was a drug addict who saw her only sporadically. He pocketed his phone and flipped the hall light switch, but nothing happened.

The stairs creaked behind him. PJ was standing in the middle of the wide staircase, her hand curled around the mahogany banister.

“Sorry. Didn’t mean to eavesdrop.”

He shrugged, trying the light switch again. “How’d it go with the architect?”

“Good. I’m really excited to see what she comes up with.” PJ trotted up the rest of the steps, her ponytail swinging like a pendulum. “How’s it going up here?”

“Everything’s pretty sound.” The fewer details she knew, the less she could fuss over.

“Except the hall light?” Her eyes flickered upward, then back to him, and her smile drew his eyes for a long second.

“Yeah.” He walked into the nearest room and tried to open the window. He’d need to air the place out when he painted.
After a little tugging, the window went up. The old wood sash, weighted with a balance, was nearly painted shut.

“The downstairs windows are new.” She’d followed him into the room, bringing her sweet flower smell with her. “Too bad she didn’t replace these. They look ancient.”

“As long as they open, they’ll do for now.” He brushed past her and entered the next room, repeating the process. This window put up more of a fight.

“Our heating bill is going to be atrocious.” She came up next to him and ran a fingernail along the chipping white paint.

They were nice hands. Long, slender fingers tapering down to short but well-kept nails. Her skin looked softer than anything he’d touched in a long time.

“I don’t think she spent much time up here,” PJ said. “Her bedroom was downstairs.”

“There’s a bedroom downstairs?” Maybe he could fit a couple more kids in. He’d have to get more funding, but—

“Down, boy. That’s
my
bedroom.”

“I thought you already had a house.”

“A rental, remember? And only through July. Once renovations are complete, I’m moving in.”

He ran his knuckles over his face. He’d just assumed it would be him and the kids.

“Don’t worry, it’s big enough for both of us—and a handful of teenagers.” She followed him to the next room. “Hopefully your girlfriend’s understanding.”

He frowned, then realized she must’ve overheard his parting words to Lizzy and made assumptions. He wasn’t going to correct her. Better she thought him taken.

For that matter, she probably had a boyfriend of her own.
Cole hoped the guy wouldn’t go ballistic at the setup. It wasn’t like they’d be here alone. By the time her renovations were complete, there’d be a houseful of kids.

“So when are you moving in?” she asked.

“Today.” After a week in the car he could hardly wait to sprawl out on the floor.

“Which room you taking?”

Didn’t she have something better to do than follow him around? “This one for now. The attic after I clean it out.”

“Oooh, nice. I always wanted an attic room. I never had a room to myself until I rented my house.” She peeked into the closet.

Since she was otherwise occupied, he checked her out. Her long brown hair was pulled into a sloppy ponytail. Her neck was exposed, and the slope of it made him want to press a kiss where it met with her shoulders.

What the heck was he thinking?

His eyes fell on her square shoulders and traveled past her trim waist, down her long legs.

“Omigosh.” She looked over her shoulder.

He jerked his eyes back to the window.

“My jeans alone wouldn’t fit in here.”

He was sure his kids wouldn’t have that problem.

“So where you from? I don’t think you ever said.”

“North of here. Fort Wayne.”

“Big city compared to Chapel Springs.”

“Yep.”

She followed him into the next room. The window wouldn’t budge.

“How’d you hear about the contest?”

“Ran across it online.”

“Yeah, I couldn’t believe she was giving this place away. But, hey, when you’ve got more money than Bill Gates . . . Need some help?”

“I got it.” He used his legs, his arms straining.

“So you have any siblings?”

The whole truth was too painful and would only lead to more questions. Especially with Sunshine. “No.”

“I can’t imagine. I have a brother—you met him—and two sisters. I had another brother, Michael, but he died when he was seventeen.”

So they had something in common. He glanced over his shoulder as a flicker of sadness passed over her face. He almost mentioned Noelle. Almost. But then PJ’s smile was back in place. He went back to the window.

“It was hard for all of us, but it was extra hard on Madison. She was his twin, and it took a long time for her to really live again. Michael loved to sail. Bought a boat when he was sixteen instead of a car. He dreamed of being the youngest winner of our annual regatta, but he never got to try—you have to be eighteen.”

“Sorry to hear that.”

PJ shrugged. “Yeah. Well, two years ago Madison got it in her head that she needed to win it for him. She ended up taking sailing lessons from Beckett—he’s her husband now, but there was no love lost between them back then! Anyway, she and Beckett ended up winning the regatta and falling in love all at the same time. It was pretty special. She’s the vet. You have any pets?”

He moved his hands to the top of the sash and tried again. “Uh, no.”

“Me neither. I had a fish at college, but he didn’t make it. Always wanted a dog, though. We had animals around the farm,
strays that Madison brought home and stuff, but not a family pet. My brother’s allergic to cats, and Mom always said she had enough responsibility. I guess with five kids, she was right. Plus Daniel.”

“Who’s Daniel?” And why did he want to know?

“Here, let me help.” She wedged in between Cole and the wall, grasping the sash at the bottom. They gave it a few tugs, then Cole pulled out his pocketknife and started cutting through the dried-on paint.

PJ leaned against the wall, too close. The smell of her perfume or hair or whatever it was teased his nose.

“Daniel’s my brother-in-law. He’s also the mayor, but before that he was kind of an honorary brother. Always hanging around, basically part of the family. His parents live in DC. His dad’s a senator, so he grew up here with his grandma. How about you? Any family to speak of?”

“Not really.”

“That must be hard. How in the world did you get all that funding without connections?”

“Mostly from church.”

“Oh, we have a great church here. A couple of them actually. You might be able to get more funding if you need it.”

She was trying to help him? What was her deal?

He pocketed his knife and grabbed the window sash.

PJ turned and helped. “How old are you, anyway?”

“Twenty-six.”

“I’m twenty-two.”

The window went up this time. A breeze drifted in, flirting with the loose hairs around her face.

“So what’s PJ stand for?”

“Penelope Jane—after my grandmothers. It only gets used when I’m in trouble, and even then it’s just my mom.”

“It doesn’t suit you.”

“I know, right? Hey.” She checked her watch. “It’s been five minutes, and we haven’t argued once.”

He gave a wry grin. “World record.”

“Maybe we should quit while we’re ahead.”

“Best not to jinx it.”

“Right.” She smiled wide.

She really did have nice lips. And why was he looking at her mouth again?

Chapter Nine

PJ
RAN THE ROLLER THROUGH THE PAN AND APPLIED THE
paint to the plaster. The white walls showed through the fresh burgundy paint. “It’s definitely going to take two coats.”

Ryan was masking off the picture window in the room that would soon be the main dining room of her restaurant. “At least.”

She’d gotten the plans back this week. They only had to move one wall to broaden the kitchen. The restaurant would consist of two rooms, the former living room and sitting room. The wide porch would provide patio seating. She couldn’t wait to see it all completed.

The front door opened, and Cole entered with bags from the hardware store. He’d been gone most of the evening.

“How’s it going?” he said.

PJ lowered her roller. “Hi.”

Cole’s eyes darted between PJ and Ryan, then he started for the stairs.

“Wait,” PJ said. “You remember my brother, Ryan?”

Cole’s gaze swung to Ryan, and recognition passed over his features. He shifted some bags. “Vaguely. Thanks for the medical help, man.”

Ryan stood, jerking his chin upward. “Least I can do when my sister’s handing out concussions.”

PJ elbowed him in the gut and got a satisfying grunt in return. “It was self-defense.”

Cole gave a huff of laughter and started up the steps with his load.

“Need some help?” Ryan called.

“I got it. Thanks.”

Cole disappeared, and seconds later his footsteps creaked overhead. A radio came on, a driving beat with a wailing electric guitar filtering down the stairs. Sometimes she felt a little bad for him. On his own with all that work to do upstairs, while she had her whole family helping out.

“So what’s his deal?” Ryan asked.

“What do you mean?”

“He’s kind of quiet. Have you learned anything else about him? What about that report Daniel was getting?”

PJ shrugged as she pushed her roller back and forth in the pan. “It didn’t turn up anything. He doesn’t talk much about himself, but he’s fine. He’s not dangerous or anything.”

“You don’t know that. You’re not exactly the best judge of character.”

Ouch. Ryan had no idea he’d just stuck an arrow into a soft, vulnerable spot. None of her family knew about Keaton.

“Give me some credit. I’m not twelve anymore.”

“Just be careful. Maybe you shouldn’t be here without one of us.”

PJ rolled her eyes. “I don’t need a babysitter. You wouldn’t be having this conversation with Madison or Jade.”

“It’s only because I care.”

She didn’t want to think about this anymore. It just stressed her out.

“So I heard you went on a date last weekend. Who was she?”

Ryan ripped off a strip of tape with his teeth. “The new receptionist at school. You don’t know her.”

Ryan taught and coached football at Chapel Springs High School in addition to volunteering for the fire department.

“Where’d you go? Did you have fun?”

“It was fine, I guess.”

PJ looked over her shoulder at him. “You ask her out again?”

“Not yet.”

“It’s a Friday night and you’re helping your sister paint—not that I don’t appreciate it. You should ask her out again. Are you going to?”

“You’re the nosiest sister on the planet.”

PJ blinked innocently. “It’s only because I care.”

Ryan shot her a look over his shoulder, his lips pressed together.

She knew she wouldn’t get any more out of him. Likely he’d go on a few dates with the woman and then things would fizzle out. It seemed to be his pattern these days. She wondered if he’d ever find someone he’d love as much as Abby. PJ had loved her too. The rest of the family had never really warmed up to her, but they’d been heartbroken about the divorce.

She wanted to ask Ryan about her, but it wasn’t a welcome topic, even after all this time.

PJ started on the next wall, smoothing out drips of paint as she went.

“The paint’s really darkening the room,” Ryan said.

“It’ll be romantic. I want a dimmer switch on the overhead chandelier and candlelight on the tables. It’ll be perfect.”

“What are you doing for tables and chairs?”

“I’m getting some things from Grandma’s Attic.” Their mom’s store was a treasure trove of used furniture. “It’ll be mismatched-eclectic. Not my ideal, but it’ll do for now.”

“Got your menu all planned out?”

“Almost. Part of my final project at school was to create a restaurant menu. I already have most of the main dishes and a couple desserts—which reminds me, there’s cheesecake in the fridge. Take it with you. I need feedback.”

“Happy to help. If you need someone to test your entrees, feel free to bring me dinner anytime.”

“Bachelorhood getting to you?”

“Frozen food gets old quick.”

“I could teach you to cook, you know. I was thinking about having cooking lessons on slow nights to supplement the restaurant income.”

“Great idea. It’ll help during the winter season. I can’t see you being open every night.”

He was right. She’d have to make her money during spring, summer, and fall when the tourists came. Winter was going to be dead. And the restaurant wouldn’t open until late summer at the earliest. How was she going to turn a profit this year?

And she had to if she was going to convince Mrs. Simmons to give her the house. Either that, or Cole was going to have to flub up big-time.

Her dad had cosigned on her loan this week. So much money. The commercial kitchen was the kicker. She’d need silverware and dinnerware. She’d splurged on her pots and pans—beautiful copper Bourgeat cookware. She couldn’t wait for their arrival.

What if it didn’t work out? What if she lost the house? What
if a year from now she found herself still working at Fiona’s Fudge Shoppe, thousands of dollars in debt?

Her lungs tightened at the thought. She focused on breathing in, expanding them. Breathing out. Her heart raced, and her breathing quickened. She set her roller in the pan and walked across the drop-cloth-covered floor.