Authors: Lili Grouse
Kristen almost jumped when Ford slammed his truck door shut. He was mad. She had expected it, but her heart still beat just a little bit faster. Once the permit went through, Quinlan Bankhead had received a notification. If he hadn’t confronted her about it, she might have hid the fact from him. That alone had been enough to scare her – her instinct to protect Ford’s interests over her own.
She’d done the best she could under the circumstances, and soon he’d come to see that, too.
“Miss Barnes, a word?” he practically snarled at her, not waiting for her response before striding over to his office trailer, simply expecting her to fall in line. She wrapped up her conversation with Hal, one of Ford’s men, and followed him into the trailer.
The second she closed the door behind them, he rounded on her.
“What the hell did you do?”
“Ford. Listen-”
“You waited until I was sick to demolish my family’s old house? Was that just a happy coincidence or did you plan it all along?”
The accusation wasn’t only insulting, but ridiculous, too. “Yes, Ford, I lured my way into your home so that I could sneak a cold virus into your food and make sure you stayed out of my way while I carried out my evil scheme,” she snorted.
“Then what do you call that?” Ford retorted, his arm stretched to indicate the vacant lot where the cottage had once stood.
“I didn’t have a choice, okay? In case you hadn’t noticed, I’m not the decision maker here.”
“Why not?”
“Why what?”
“Why are you acting like some kind of errand girl? Why aren’t you telling Bankhead what you really think?”
“Are you serious? You, if anyone, know that work isn’t about making all the decisions for yourself. It’s about what the client wants.”
“I’m an independent contractor, Kristen. You’re an architect. If you don’t like something, you can at least speak up about it.”
“And say hello to unemployment?”
“Did you even try? Did you even say, ‘hey, maybe tearing down a century-old house isn’t the best idea’?”
“What does it matter? The outcome is still the same.”
“It matters because if you cared even a little bit about me, about this town, you would have spoken up.”
“Oh, you’re just… ugh!” Kristen exclaimed, almost ready to pull her hair out. “Come on,” she said and flung open the door, heading back outside.
“Where are you going?” Ford demanded, following her over to her rental car.
“Get in,” she ordered, opening the passenger door for him.
“I don’t think so.”
“You’re the one who said you wanted me to take charge. I’m taking charge. Get in the freaking car.”
She muttered to herself as she walked around to the driver’s side, mostly bad words to describe Ford’s fascinating character traits and the things she wanted to do to him – that most certainly didn’t involve a bed of any kind.
The drive was tense, with both of them stewing in anger. She never ceased to be amazed by how quickly Ford could turn her moods around. If he was being grumpy, she got snappish. If he was teasing her, she was ready to play. In no way were they suited for each other. Happy couples were supposed to complete each other – to make up for what the other was lacking and make a whole, fully functional human being. They weren’t supposed to burn on all cylinders. Couples like that eventually burned out.
Ford didn’t speak. Opening his mouth around Kristen at the moment wouldn’t do anyone any good. She was gripping the steering wheel with both hands and talking to herself. He couldn’t make out the words, but he was pretty sure they were about him – and not happy ones.
Okay, so maybe he’d come on a little strong. She was right, he knew what it was like to take orders. Hadn’t he himself accepted the contracting job from Quinlan Bankhead, after all? But even so, he felt betrayed. Maybe getting involved with Kristen had been a mistake – opening himself up for betrayal again.
No. He didn’t regret it. Getting to know Kristen was the best thing that had happened to him since Suzy left. He didn’t know where she was driving them or how long they were going to stay angry, but eventually the anger would give way for passion.
Kristen made a turn and he looked around to see that they were driving up the coast on the opposite side of the bay. He didn’t come here often, but he knew a few people who lived up this way.
As Kristen cleared a rock outcropping, a construction site came into view. He frowned. No-one did construction work in this town without him knowing about it. He frowned even harder when Kristen pulled up and parked the car.
“What are we doing here?”
“See that foundation over there?” Kristen said and pointed to a slab of concrete sitting on top of the hill.
“Yeah?”
“And that house coming up the road?” she pointed to a flatbed truck carting what was in fact a whole house up the less step road leading up the coast.
“You… is that…?” Ford squinted. It looked a
lot
like the old cottage. On wheels.
“The building permit came through. Both of them, in fact.”
“Huh?”
“You know I had to file for a permit to remove the cottage in favor of Bankhead’s new house? Well, a few months ago, I filed for a second permit. To move the cottage to a new property.”
“I don’t… this isn’t my property,” Ford frowned, trying to make sense of what she was saying.
“I have a document that says otherwise,” she said and reached into her bag, pulling out an envelope that had clearly been opened. She handed it over and he just stared at it for awhile before pulling out the piece of paper inside.
“Well, to be specific, it’s Annabelle’s. But you’re the trustee and occupant until such time she decides to move to Greenport permanently, which, frankly, I don’t see happening. I had my lawyer friend draw up the papers.”
“But… this property… it’s…”
“The people in this town love you, Ford. The Bowmans had planned to build on this property, but now that their youngest is moving to Florida and none of the other kids want to keep a summer home up here, they were looking to sell. Especially to someone like you.”
Ford looked over at her. Her voice had softened, and so had her eyes. He wanted to kiss her. He figured that if he wasn’t going to hold back from letting her know when he was upset, the same should go for the opposite sentiment.
Her lips were chapped from the cold they’d been having, but they were still soft under his. Her little gasp of surprise let him taste her even further. His fingers tangled in her hair as he drank deep.
“We need to talk about this,” he said as he released her. “It’s too much.”
“Are you going to waste both our time being stubborn about it, or are you going to say thank you and start helping me with the interior redesign?” Kristen said, her bossy side shining through loud and clear. “We’re on a schedule here, you know.”
“Yes, Ma’am,” he tipped an imaginary hat to her, a grin tugging at his lips.
“And while we’re at it – I’d like to redo Annabelle’s room – if she’s okay with it.”
“Does this mean you won’t be occupying that room any longer?”
“Only if you’ll let me put up new wallpaper in the master bedroom.”
“Anything else?” he asked, fully amused now.
“Have you ever considered a walk-in closet?”
Ford chose to give her a non-verbal response to her question, pulling her close again and fitting his lips to hers. Maybe there was hope for them yet.
SEVENTEEN
Summer
“I’m nervous.” Kristen couldn’t believe she was telling Ford that. She was supposed to be the cool, level-headed one. The big city girl who never let anything faze her. Yeah, right. She was standing in the pastel colored arrival hall, grinding her teeth because a teenage kid was going to get off a plane any second now.
She had no reason to be nervous. She’d Skyped with Annabelle several times over the past months and gotten her approval for the changes she was making to their house. Theirs, as in Annabelle’s and Ford’s. Even though she was living there full time and had decorated the place herself, Kristen still felt rootless. In a few months’ time, her contract with Quinlan Bankhead was up, and she was supposed to deliver a finished home. She wasn’t worried about the building inspection, or even about hearing Mr. Bankhead’s final ruling on the project, but about having to make a decision on her future.
She hadn’t promised Ford forever, and she was getting restless, but she wasn’t so sure she wanted to leave Greenport. Not just yet. Maybe she would in a few months.
“Hey,” Ford squeezed her hand and Kristen returned to the here and now, “it’s going to be fine. The house looks great. She’ll love it.”
“Like you love your new wallpaper?” Kristen looked up at him with a teasing smile on her lips. “Or the walk-in closet?”
“I like the stuff you
keep
in that closet,” he smirked in return.
“My spanking new one-piece from the Spend n’ Save is to die for, don’t you think?”
“Huh? Was that the one I used to keep the furnace going this winter?”
“No… I think those were my flannel pajamas…”
“Right. They burned well, I seem to recall.”
Kristen stuck her tongue out. A very mature gesture that suited the situation. These days, her closet consisted mostly of jeans and T-shirts and sweaters, with her more high-end apparel securely packed up. The one luxury she still allowed herself clothing-wise was lingerie. Ford seemed to appreciate that, too.
She’d actually come to appreciate not having to worry about what to wear in the mornings. Back home, she wouldn’t be caught dead in leisure clothes unless they were designer and she was on her way to the gym or spa, especially since image was everything in her line of business, but here, no-one cared if her jeans were frayed or her shirt had paint on it. In fact, it was a preferred look if you asked Ford.
“There she is,” Ford said and Kristen looked over to see Annabelle rolling a suitcase that probably weighed more than her, her softly curled hair bobbing. She’d put in highlights, too, making her look like she’d come right off the beach.
“Dad!” Annabelle broke out in a smile and hurried over to fling her arms around Ford’s neck.
Over the past months, father and daughter had grown closer, and when her mother had asked what she wanted for her Sweet Sixteen, Annabelle had told her she wanted to spend the summer in Greenport – after the big party back in L.A., of course.
Ford had planned his own party for Annabelle, in the new house that she didn’t yet know about. A lot of kids got cars for their sixteenth, but Annabelle was getting a house. Well, in theory, at least. Another reason Kristen was nervous – what if Annabelle thought she was trying to buy her affections?
“Kristen!” A pair of skinny arms wrapped around her neck and Kristen felt some of the worry leak out of her body.
“Hi, Elle. How was your flight?”
“Awful. Like, I could have sworn I saw little bats under the wings, holding it up. We so need to get a private jet,” she joked. At least, Kristen
hoped
it was a joke.
“I’ve always wanted a helicopter, myself,” Ford said and grabbed Annabelle’s bag, heading for the exit without further ado.
“So… how was the party?” Kristen asked as she and Annabelle headed out, arms linked like old friends. In a way, they were.
“Amazing,” Annabelle grinned. “The DJ was so cute. All my friends loved him. And don’t tell Dad, okay, but Mom’s new boyfriend owns a car dealership, and she said I can have a car once I get back to California.”
“New boyfriend? No Oscar wins for the movie producer, huh?”
“O-M-G, I didn’t tell you?”
“No. What?”
“Burt was a total douche. Like, they’d been married for years, and when he finally offered Mom a part in one of his movies, you know what he wanted to cast her as?”
“What?”
“The boring housewife that catches her movie producer husband doing the maid and decides to join the party.”
Kristen covered her mouth, both in shock and to stop laughter from pouring out.
“I know, right?” Annabelle said, eyes wide. “Mom was pissed. I mean, she knew what kind of movies he produced – even if she never told
me
about that – but she didn’t know he’d been practicing the choreography with his cast all the time they’d been married.”
“So she kicked him out? Good for her.”
“Yeah. She got a nice divorce settlement, too.”
“What about you? Any wannabe movie producers hanging around?” Kristen teased.
“No…” Annabelle looked down at the ground for a second or so, and Kristen noticed the tinge to her cheeks.
“I know that look,” Kristen grinned. “Tell.”
“He’s just a guy…”
“Mm-hm…?”
“He works at the beach club. You know, handing out towels, picking up litter, that sort of thing.”
“And in winter?”
“The library,” Annabelle grudgingly admitted. “I know, not the least bit exciting.”
“Don’t say that,” Kristen shook her head. “Smart guys are totally hot. It takes a special kind of girl to appreciate it, and I sure wish I’d been one of those girls.”
“But you’re with Dad…”
“I guess I got smart in my old age,” Kristen joked.
“You also lost your sense of style,” Annabelle said, pulling back to look her over, “What are you wearing?”
“This? Don’t you like it? I picked it up at the Spend n’ Save,” Kristen grinned and made a little twirl. “I’m sure we can find you an outfit just like it.”
“Yeah… I think I’d rather go to New York and do some actual shopping,” Annabelle said with a scrunch of her nose and Kristen laughed.
“Come on, kid, let’s go see your new old room.”
Ford watched as Kristen and Annabelle huddled together, talking and no doubt sharing secrets and fashion tips as they slowly made their way over to the parking lot. Kristen may think he had the party for Annabelle all set up and that she was none the wiser about it, but he had a very different party planned.
He hoped she’d be happy, and not run screaming for the hills – or the airport – but he couldn’t be sure his proposal would be well-received. Annabelle, of course, was thrilled about the idea. They’d spent hours on the phone when Kristen hadn’t been around, planning it out in minute detail. Now that it was almost time for the big reveal, he was feeling like something was jumping up and down inside of him, just itching to get out.
“Come on, you two. Let’s get this truck on the road.” Ford gave the hood a pat and walked over to the driver’s side.
He waited for Kristen and Annabelle to climb in and then set off for the cottage. Given that they’d been busy with the Bankhead project, renovations on the old cottage had had to take a backseat, but he was ready to get started on it.
His work on the Bankhead site was coming to an end, and it would be all up to Kristen to put the finishing touches on the new house. The structure itself was pretty spectacular, he had to admit, fitting into the landscape like an extension of the cliff it stood on, select panels reflecting the sun- and moonlight along the charcoal facade. It was a daring design, and Kristen had pulled it off. He would have told her he was proud of her if it didn’t sound so… off.
When he turned right at the crossroads exiting the airport area, heading up the coast, Annabelle acted adequately surprised.
“Dad? I think you took a wrong turn…”
“Huh? Oh, right, I forgot, I have to drop something off at the Bowmans’. I’m sorry, it’ll only be a few minutes.”
“Oh. Okay.”
Kristen looked over at him from her seat in the front passenger seat, a secretive smile ghosting her lips. Yes, he definitely had her fooled.
When they pulled up at the cottage, Annabelle looked around, acting puzzled. “That looks like the old lighthouse cottage…”
“Well…” Ford said, turning off the engine. “It is.”
“Uh… but… this is the wrong side of the coast. I can see the lighthouse across the bay.”
“Come on, let’s take a look inside,” Kristen said, climbing out of the truck.
“Okay…” Annabelle said, smiling conspiratorially at Ford before getting out, much like Kristen had done earlier. Maybe he was the one being set up. He had a feeling that between these two, he’d never be sure of anything.
Ford was the one who unlocked the door to the cottage, and held the door open for Annabelle and Kristen. He could see the excitement tensing Kristen up, and then her utter confusion as there were no party balloons, or streamers, or people jumping out and yelling ‘surprise’ when Annabelle entered.
“Did you forget to send out the invitations?” she whispered to Ford, horrified that he had cheated Annabelle of her surprise party.
“No. Go on,” he ushered her into the cottage.
“But, Ford, there’s nothing…” Kristen trailed off mid-sentence and he knew she’d spotted the new dining room table he’d crafted. He’d also stained it and polished it, and now a proper dinner was set, with a couple of unlit candles in the center, along with a vase of deep red roses.
“Welcome home, Kristen,” he whispered in her ear and she turned to look up at him.
“But…”
“Annabelle and I talked about it, and we both figured that a person really only needs
one
home per city, so despite the vast improvements you’ve made to the old homestead, we’re putting it on the market. Having it redone by a professional interior designer
and
decorator, the realtor seems to think it’ll make a splash.”
“But…” As Kristen was getting ready to object, Ford captured her hands in his.
“The old place was fine, fully functional, but it’s where I lived with Suzy. I’m ready to make new memories, in a new place, with you.”
“But…”
“Like I said, I’ve talked it over with Annabelle, and we both agree that I need to be more flexible. You were right when you said I could work anywhere. So here’s my proposal…”
Kristen looked horrified when he said that last word, no doubt thinking he was about to get down on one knee in front of her. He wasn’t. Not yet, anyway.
“I have a business proposal for you,” he clarified. “I happen to think we make a good team, and I would like to ask if you’re interested in continuing to work with me – wherever that may take us. With the money left over from the sale of the old house, I’m investing in a new trailer – one with a bed as well as an office space and kitchenette, and I’m expanding my business. I’ve put out a couple of feelers on the West Coast and further down on the East Coast, and there’s quite a bit of interest for heritage renovations. Would you consider being the architect-in-charge on any of those projects?”
“What about Greenport? What about this place?” Kristen asked, making a sweeping gesture of the cottage.
“It’s a great place to live, and I have some friends that are willing to look after it while we’re not here. I want to explore this country with you, Kristen. If we, one day, decide we’re ready to settle down somewhere, we’ll talk about where that will be then. For now, I just want to spend as much time with you as possible. So what do you say? Will you give it a try?”
“We argue all the time,” Kristen said, her eyes fixed on him.
“We make up every time, too.”
“We come from different worlds.”
“We’re brave enough to try different things.”
“I hate being cold.”
“I’m a human furnace.”
“Gross, Dad,” Annabelle interjected and they both laughed, snapping out of their own little universe.
“Hey, I was winning this argument,” Ford chided his daughter playfully.
“No, you weren’t,” Annabelle and Kristen said at the same time. They all laughed, then.
“I guess we could give it a try,” Kristen shrugged. “One more project. If you find someone who wants to hire us both. I don’t have anything lined up at the moment, so…”
“Wow, I feel so special,” Ford teased.
“So…” Annabelle started squirming, “now that I have my driver’s license… how ‘bout I take your old truck for a spin? Just into town, I swear,” she held her hands up to deflect the oncoming objections streaming out of Ford’s mouth.
“For how long?” he asked, his brows furrowed.
“Um… like an hour?”