“How about we do this somewhere less… crowded?” I ask.
“For once, something we can agree on. Where should we go?” she says, closing the notebook and shoving it and all her supplies into her bag.
“We can go to my house if you’re good with it, but I still need to run by a jobsite, so can we do it around six?”
Her blue eyes, which look like the sky after a fresh snow, widen at my suggestion.
Not that I’m particularly excited to have her at my house… but it’s quiet, and there won’t be prying eyes or people around to gossip about the two of us having to work together.
“Uh, yeah, I guess that could work. Could you text me directions?”
“It’s on Maple Hill. Can’t miss it,” I tell her, standing from my chair.
For a second, she blinks in surprise. “You bought Jacobson’s farmhouse?”
I nod. “Yeah. Last winter.”
I’m surprised she hasn’t heard about it, but I guess she wouldn’t be interested in anything that happens with me or my family.
“It’s… I mean, it’s basically condemned,” she says as she finishes placing her supplies back into her bag. “How are you living there?”
My chuckle is low as I lean in slightly. “I’m pretty good with my hands.”
I don’t miss the way her cheeks pink under the fluorescent light of the coffee shop, and I smirk, standing and pushing my chair back under the table.
“See you later, Emmie.”
Without another word, I turn on my heel and walk out of the coffee shop to my truck.
Maybe this thing won’t be so bad after all, especially if I can make her blush like that again. Only next time… maybe it’ll be with my tongue.
emma
Saint Nick… give me strength.
I can honestly say never in a billion years did I think I would ever be going to Jackson Pearce’s house. Then again, I never thought I would be able to exist in the same room with him, but somehow, we’re both still breathing so far.
“Holy…” I mumble as I pull my Mercedes down the long, winding driveway that leads to his house. Trees hang over the gravel, making it seem that much darker. It’s serene and peaceful, completely tucked away from the rest of the world.
Finally, after what feels like a mile, the old white farmhouse comes into view. It’s seen much better days, but that makes sense since it spent the better part of twenty years abandoned until apparently Jackson bought it. The paint around the doors and along the front is peeling, the shutters are rustic, and the pillars in the front seem like they could collapse at any moment from their old age.
But despite all of the things wrong with it, there are far more things about this place that are beautiful. The brand-new wraparound porch, the unpainted wood still fresh and new, is breathtaking. Rocking chairs sit out front, along with new windows and a new navy blue front door.
Clearly, Jackson has been renovating, even if it’s still a work in progress.
Putting my car in park, I grab my bag from the passenger seat and open the door, stepping out.
A second later, the front door opens and two giant balls of fur come barreling toward me, a blur of fluffy golden hair and floppy ears.
Immediately, a smile spreads on my face as I drop into a squat to get all of the puppy love.
“Oh, hello,” I coo, petting each of the heads of two of the cutest Golden Retrievers I’ve ever seen. “God, you are adorable. Clearly, you two got the looks in the family,” I tell them just as Jackson saunters over, his hands pushed deep into the front pockets of his jeans.
“I see you’ve met Marley and Mo,” he says sheepishly. “Calm down, you two heathens.”
“They’re precious.”
He nods. “I rescued them down by the creek. Last December, I stumbled upon them huddled in a bed of wet leaves, tiny little puppies just shivering in the snow. I was surprised they hadn’t frozen to death, and when I couldn’t find their mama anywhere, I brought them back to the farmhouse, and the rest is history.”
Wow, the jerk does actually have a heart. That’s surprisingly… adorable.
Keeping my comment to myself, I nod, plastering on a saccharine smile. “Very noble of you, Jackson Pearce. How many acres do you have here?”
“Twenty. Goes beyond the tree line there and up past Harrow Creek.” Removing his hand from his pocket, he points toward the tree line, where the sun has begun to set in deep orange and purples, bringing the temperature down with it. We haven’t had hard snow in the last couple of weeks, so there’s only a light dusting along the ground. Enough to cover it, making a fluffy white blanket.
“Let’s get inside. You’re shivering,” he says, noticing a fact that I haven’t even yet realized. I was too busy staring at his property and adorable pups.
“Um, yeah, that’d be great.”
He turns toward the rustic two-story and calls for the dogs, motioning for me to follow behind him.
I try not to stare at the way the tight denim on his ass is molded to him like a second skin as he walks inside.
Why is it that men who are unreasonably attractive are also equally as annoying?
Maybe it’s just a Pearce thing.
I step over the threshold into Jackson’s house, my coat pulled tightly around me, and my jaw drops open as I take it all in. While the outside of the house is very clearly still a work in progress, the inside is a completely different story.
Obviously, this is where Jackson started.
The inside is breathtaking, and for the first time, I truly see why everyone in town is obsessed with Pearce Builders.
His craftsmanship is incredible, and the design… it’s modern and fresh yet still feels rustic and welcoming.
“Judging a house from the outside, are you?” He chuckles, shutting the door and kicking off his boots in the entryway. “Shouldn’t be surprised, Emmie.”
Rolling my eyes, I do the same. As I’m shrugging out of my jacket, he takes it from me, surprising me, and hangs it on the coat rack.
“I am not judging the house. I… I just wasn’t expecting it to be so beautiful. I mean, the house sat abandoned for so long the entire town was convinced that it would have to be condemned. Clearly, that’s not true. You’ve put a lot of work into it.”
He leads me into the open-floor-plan living room, where there’s a comfortable cream couch and a massive TV mounted on the wall. “Did it kill you to give me that compliment? I feel like it had to have hurt.”
The smile on his lips is teasing, and I scowl, narrowing my eyes. “Enjoy it because it’ll never happen again.”
I set my bag down on the coffee table and then do a slow one-eighty, taking in the rest of his house, the dark wood floor and black iron light fixtures.
“Do you care if I set my stuff up here, or would you prefer somewhere else?”
He shrugs, nodding toward the dark wooden coffee table. “Have at it. Mo and Marley will probably want all the attention if you’re on the floor though.”