Designed for Love (2 page)

“If you don’t mind, I’ll leave that up to you. In here, I want to push that far wall out a bit to open up the space and put in an island.” Jillian pivoted away and swept a hand past the wall in question and then indicated the one next to it. Wil fought to keep her breathing even and was astonished at how unaffected Jillian seemed by a moment that had rocked her. “Here I want to put in a bay window and make a breakfast nook. We’ll add recessed lighting and all new cabinets and countertops, to go with the updated appliances I plan to buy.”

“You’re going to spend most of your money in here,” Wil commented, trying to focus on the details. She pulled a small notebook from her jacket pocket and jotted notes as Jillian spoke.

“Kitchens sell houses,” Jillian responded quickly.

“You sound like a realtor.”

“I am.”

“Really? Local?” Wil was certain she would have run into Jillian before now if she was local. They’d worked with most of the area realtors at one time or another. She guessed Jillian had five or six years on her, putting her in her mid-thirties. Maybe she’d started a second career.

“Cincinnati, but I’ll be here until I sell this house.”

“If you want things done in a hurry, it’s going to be difficult for you to be living here at the same time.”

“Well, the kitchen won’t be a problem since I don’t do a lot of cooking anyway.” Jillian waved off her concern and headed for the living room. “I’ll set myself up in one of the spare rooms since it only needs fresh paint.”

The living room boasted high ceilings with crown molding and large double-hung windows. Wil really did love these old houses. She could tell from Jillian’s attention to detail that she had put a lot of thought into this restoration.

As Jillian led her through the rest of the house, she was overly aware of Wil’s scent, like sandalwood and summer rain. She couldn’t suppress her reaction, but hoped she hid it well. Wil occasionally asked questions, and Jillian was surprised by how well she already seemed to understand her vision for the house.

In the master bathroom, Jillian said, “Next to the kitchen, I think most of the work will be in here. I want to add a tiled shower stall in the corner, a claw-foot tub, and a new pedestal sink.”

Jillian kept her tone controlled despite the fact that they stood very close in the small room. While Wil continued to jot notes, Jillian stared at her mouth and wondered how it would feel to kiss her, to trace Wil’s thin lips with the tip of her tongue before plunging inside. Would Wil respond with the energy Jillian felt vibrating within her?

When Wil drew her bottom lip between her teeth in concentration, Jillian imagined gently sucking it. She jerked her eyes away, but failed to dispel the image.

“Right, so that’s the tour.” Jillian moved past Wil, carefully avoiding contact. She’d never spent so much time fantasizing about someone she’d just met, and she didn’t think touching Wil, even accidentally, would help her condition. She led Wil back to the living room. In an effort to fill the uncomfortable silence, she kept talking. “Aunt Mary left me the furnishings too. I’ll put most of them in storage while the work is being done. Then, I don’t know, maybe an auction. There are actually some nice pieces here.”

Wil nodded. “I’m sorry for your loss. Were you close?”

“Not at all. I was here briefly five years ago when her husband died. I don’t know why she left me the house. Except that she didn’t have any children of her own.”

“Perhaps she felt a connection with you.”

“I rarely saw her,” Jillian said. It was impossible to feel connected to someone you barely knew. Wasn’t it? Yet here she was feeling as if she would go to bed with this stranger without a second’s hesitation. Shaking her head, she dismissed the idea. “Given my profession, it’s more likely she knew I would be best equipped to sell the house.”

For a moment Wil looked like she might argue, but instead she headed for the front door.

“My crew is finishing up another job today. You and I should go to the hardware store and order the cabinets and some fixtures. I’ll get a tentative schedule drawn up so you’ll know when you’ll have room to work on your projects. Is it okay if I bring that by tomorrow?”

“I’ll look forward to seeing you then.”

Jillian watched from the porch as Wil walked toward the white Chevy pickup bearing the Johnson & Son logo. When Wil turned around to glance at her before climbing in the truck, Jillian flushed, hoping Wil was too far away to tell that she’d been transfixed by her confident swagger.

*

Jillian walked out the front door and looked around, marveling at her surroundings. For the time being, she’d landed in Small Town, U.S.A. Aunt Mary’s house was just four tree-lined blocks from the Redmond town square, complete with a drugstore, city hall, hardware store, and a diner, Jillian’s lunch destination. She hadn’t been kidding when she told Wil she didn’t cook, and since she’d arrived only days before, she hadn’t taken time to get even the barest essentials. Wil and her crew would probably be tearing up the kitchen by next week, so Jillian figured there was no reason to stock up when she could take a short walk for some country home cooking.

It was an idyllic early summer day, almost too much so. Sunlight slashed through gaps in the full shade trees overhead, and birds chirped cheerfully. The Mayberry atmosphere in this town felt surreal in comparison to the constant hum of the city Jillian was used to hearing outside the window of her downtown condo, and she’d been having trouble sleeping.

When she’d first driven into town she’d worried she wouldn’t survive for the couple of months it would take to fix up the house. After all, there wasn’t a Starbucks for miles. And she doubted she’d be able to get a massage or a decent facial at the one salon in town. From a quick look through the window as she walked past, she could tell nothing had changed inside in close to a decade. The only surprise so far had been the sign in the window at the diner announcing the presence of Wi-Fi.

Everything she’d encountered here felt out of place, including the intensity of her initial attraction to Wil Johnson. To put it bluntly, blue-collar wasn’t normally her type. She tended to go for polished and professional. Usually, she dated women that she had things in common with, but it was getting harder and harder to find someone who didn’t quickly bore her. After all, you could have only so much intelligent conversation. She got that with her friends. What she wanted was a grand passion. Her reaction to women was often mostly intellectual and practical, nothing like the visceral response to Wil’s physicality. She couldn’t deny the spread of hot arousal when she’d found herself the subject of that concentrated gaze.

As distracting as it would probably prove to be, having Wil around the house for the next several weeks wouldn’t be a hardship. She could certainly think of worse ways to spend her time than watching Wil get sweaty.
What has gotten into me? I’ve never been so turned on just thinking about someone.

As she reached the Redmond Diner, Jillian pulled her thoughts away from the attractive contractor. The outside of the building looked like it hadn’t had an overhaul in decades. The painted logo on the front window had long ago faded and begun chipping. When she pushed open the door, the top of the metal frame nudged a small gold bell, announcing her arrival.

“Grab a seat anywhere, honey,” a waitress called from across the room.

Jillian slid into one of the vinyl-upholstered booths near the front window. When she noticed a woman she’d seen in the diner before watching her from the next booth, Jillian forced a smile and reminded herself not to react defensively. The small-town curiosity about newcomers took some getting used to.

The woman smiled back and the lines around her mouth deepened. “Make sure you try the apple pie, dear. It’s wonderful.”

“Thank you.”

The woman appeared about Aunt Mary’s age. Her neatly pressed paisley blouse was too formal for early afternoon at the diner. Jillian wondered if she had another engagement or if she was simply the type who felt one should always dress to impress when in public no matter what her surroundings. Her white hair was neatly set, and Jillian guessed she had a standing appointment at the salon down the street. She tilted her head and studied Jillian over her menu through a pair of bifocals.

“Aren’t you the young lady that’s fixing up Mary Connor’s place?”

“Yes. I’ve been here three days. How did you know already?”

“It’s a small town, word gets around. I’m Rose Beam.”

“Jillian Sealy.”

“Would you like to join me for lunch?” Rose gestured to the vacant side of her booth.

Jillian nodded and slid across the worn red vinyl.

“Mary will really be missed,” Rose said as she handed Jillian her menu.

“Were you friends?”

“For a time. She was a generous woman.” A deep sadness tinged Rose’s voice, then just as quickly it was gone. “I hear you’re a real-estate agent.”

Jillian laughed. “Word really does get around.”

“One of the ladies at bingo heard Bud Johnson talking at the hardware store.”

While Jillian was still trying to picture a bingo-playing granny hanging out at the hardware store, their waitress approached and they both ordered meatloaf sandwiches and apple pie.

Rose waited until the waitress walked away, then leaned forward and said conspiratorially, “I might have need of your services.”

“Well, actually, I’m licensed in Ohio, and since I’m only here for a short time I wasn’t planning to apply for my license here.”

“Oh.” Rose seemed disappointed.

“Are you buying or selling?”

“Selling. I’ve finally given in and agreed to move closer to my daughter in Virginia. My granddaughter and great-grandchildren live there, as well. There isn’t anything left for me here.”

“Well, I’m sure there are several good agents in the area.” She hadn’t seen a real-estate office, but certainly there were others in neighboring towns.

“I shouldn’t have bothered you. You probably have a lot of work to do at Mary’s place.”

Without really knowing why, Jillian wanted to help Rose. So before she could change her mind, she said, “Maybe I could give you some advice. But I can’t collect a commission, and I won’t be offended if you want to hire someone else.”

“I can’t let you work for free.”

“Well, I can’t take your money.”

Rose seemed to be considering her options and then relented. “You stop by tomorrow and I’ll show you the house. We’ll work something out. Let me just give you the address.”

Rose pulled a pen out of her purse and, as she continued to search, Jillian produced one of her business cards and offered the back of it.

In Cincinnati she wouldn’t have taken the time to help someone sell a house without the promise of a decent commission. Even if she was so inclined, she wouldn’t have had the time. Because a lot of prospective buyers wanted to view property after hours and on weekends, her hours weren’t limited to nine to five. And she’d been even busier lately gearing up to sell units in an upscale condominium complex. It was to be her company’s biggest project thus far.

Losing that account was one of the things that had compelled her to take on Mary’s house.

Chapter Two

Wil walked into the nearly deserted offices of Johnson and Son. Their secretary had taken the day off, and all of their crews were out on jobs. She made a beeline for the coffee urn and hoped her father hadn’t been the one to make it. She tested the brew and winced. Bud came from his office as she was adding a healthy dose of creamer.

“Coffee’s a little weak,” she said sarcastically, just loud enough for him to hear.

“Did you go see Miss Sealy?” He ignored her remark.

Wil pulled a folded invoice from the inside pocket of her denim jacket and handed it to him. “Yesterday. And I just picked up some supplies for her job. Here’s the bill. I’ll be taking her around to the hardware store later this week to choose some of the custom items.”

“What did you think?”

Wil shoved aside the various remarks that sprang to mind regarding Jillian. Her father was asking about the house. “It’s a great old place and she has some specific ideas about what she wants done.”

“Can your crew get it done in her time frame? I can’t spare anyone else.”

Wil sensed the challenge in her father’s voice. Publicly she knew he supported her and respected her work. But she also suspected on some level he waited for the point when her all-woman crew proved to be less capable than his crews of men. And she took great pleasure in continuing to demonstrate that they were better than the men.

She shoved her shoulders back. “We’ll get it done.” And they would. If Wil had to work double time to make it happen, the job would come in under Jillian’s deadline.

“Good.” He poured himself a cup of coffee and drank it undiluted. “We’re tying up some big jobs over the summer months, and then I expect a lull in the fall.”

Wil nodded. Typically, as early as October, people began budgeting for the holidays instead of home improvement. Business would pick back up in early spring, and by the time it stayed consistently warm they would once again be putting in long hours six days a week. Though it was hectic, Wil didn’t mind the schedule. She had a great crew and enjoyed the feeling of accomplishment that came with working until she was too exhausted to do any more.