Some unidentifiable emotion flared in Lily’s eyes. “Do you live here—in this house—too?”
Brendan shook his head. “In a cabin behind the shop. I like my privacy.” It had to be said. “So you understand why this won’t work. It’s a small space, and there isn’t room for both of us.”
“Oh, I understand.” The corners of her watercolor-pink lips twitched.
Was she trying not to smile? Okay, maybe that had sounded like something the sheriff in a cheesy old black-and-white Western might say—this town isn’t big enough for the two of us—but it also happened to be the truth.
Lily took two steps forward and paused in the doorway. Tipped her head. “Do you like it?”
“Do I like what?”
“Your office.”
Did he like… What kind of question was that?
Brendan shrugged. “It’s an office.”
“The place where you spend the majority of your day?”
“Yes.” He wondered where she was going with this. “When I’m working, I’m focused on work.” Even if the walls were—Brendan took a quick inventory of the room—dark green with a brownish fleck.
Kind of like the algae that coated the rocks along the riverbank.
“I really don’t care about the color of the walls.” He closed the conversation with a polite smile.
Lily didn’t move. “What are your regular business hours?”
“There’s no such thing when you own your own business.”
Something Brendan had discovered the first time he’d driven through the night to personally deliver an order, and as the owner of a small business, she should have known that, as well. “Why?”
“If you don’t want me in here when you’re working,” Lily said sweetly. “I need to know when you won’t be.”
“I thought we already established that I don’t want you to paint my office.”
“I’m sorry, but it really isn’t a question of what you want, is it? You might be the manager, but Sonia is my boss.” Lily held up a square of flowered stationery that looked as if it had been cut from the same material as her suitcase. “And this office happens to be on the list of rooms she asked me to paint. If you have a problem with that, I suggest you take it up with her.”
Brendan would have—if Sunni had taken her cell phone. Or her laptop. But someone had insisted she leave all means of communication behind in order to truly “get away from it all.”
He mentally kicked himself.
“I start work at seven in the morning and stay as long as necessary.” He pushed the words out slowly, one by one, hoping she could take a hint.
“When is your day off? I’ll try and work around that.”
“It…varies.” Brendan tried to remember the last time he’d taken a day off. “A lot.”
“Are you always this difficult?”
“Are you?” he shot back.
Lily had the audacity to grin.
“I guess you’ll find out, won’t you?”
* * *
Things weren’t turning out quite the way Lily had planned.
She rolled onto her back in the twin bed and stared up at the ceiling, mentally sifting through the emails she and Sonia Mason had exchanged over the past few weeks.
The boys are in and out, Lily vaguely remembered the woman saying. What her client had failed to mention, however, was the fact they were her boys. Lily had assumed it was simply an affectionate term for her employees.
Whatever her reason for not sharing that little tidbit of information, Lily didn’t look forward to tip-toeing around Brendan Kane for the next two weeks.
The man had no sense of humor.
She’d tried to tease him. Tried to get him to lighten up a little and make the best out of an uncomfortable situation. But her attempt had been met with silence. Oh, and another frown.
At least they didn’t have to share the same living space, although Lily suspected that working in close proximity would prove to be difficult enough.
From the brief conversation they’d had in the office the day before, she could tell there were no boundaries between Brendan’s professional life and personal life. He was ambitious. Single-minded. Devoted to his career.
Lily recognized the signs. A few weeks ago, she’d been the same way. But watching your best friend battle fatigue and constant pain had a way of changing a person’s perspective. Made her see what was really important.
Thank You, God.
It was a prayer Lily had repeated at least a dozen times every day.
The cell phone on the nightstand chirped, starting a countdown to Brendan’s arrival. He’d claimed he was in the office by seven in the morning, so Lily had set her alarm for six.
She dashed down the hall to shower and then slipped into her uniform—paint-splattered overalls and a clean
T-shirt—before making her way downstairs to the kitchen. Even though Sonia had given her permission to raid the refrigerator, Lily didn’t want to take advantage of her host’s generosity. She planned to drive into Castle Falls later that afternoon and pick up a few things at the grocery store.
She did, however, locate the coffeemaker and brew a fresh pot.
During her brief tour of the house the day before, Lily had discovered a stone patio located off the back of the kitchen. She shouldered open the weathered screen door and stepped outside, a steaming mug of coffee in one hand and her Bible in the other.
Proof that her morning routine had changed, too. A few months ago, Lily’s definition of “time with God” had been a muttered prayer, asking God to bless her day, as she sprinted to her car. Never realizing that a continued conversation with God, the privilege of sharing her heart, was the blessing.
She lowered herself into a wicker rocking chair that faced the river and closed her eyes, letting the scents and sounds wash over her as she thanked God for the beauty of His creation.
When she opened them again, she was no longer alone.
A dog with long ears and an even longer body sat next to the chair, staring up at her with liquid brown eyes.
Lily smiled at her unexpected visitor. “Well, good morning. Where did you come from?”