I nodded immediately. “It is beautiful, and way more than I could ask for.” Then I faced Trina. “Thank you both so much. I can’t tell you how much I appreciate it.”
“She owed me a favor,” Ryan said with a twinkle in his eye. He playfully elbowed Trina in the upper arm.
She rolled her eyes and faced her brother in mock exasperation. “I swear, Ryan, no one would believe you’re thirty-six years old when you act like you’re goin’ on twelve.”
“Key to longevity is stayin’ young at heart, T.”
She shook her head and started to walk away. “Have a good day, Peyton!” she called out behind her. “Let me know if you need anything at all!”
“Thanks, Trina!” I replied before returning my attention to the handsome man in front of me. “Your sister is really wonderful.”
Ryan nodded and his smile told me exactly what he thought of her. “She’s a gem.”
“Yes, she is,” I said softly and then suddenly blanked on anything more to say. Instead, we both just stood there for a few seconds staring at each other like both of our brains had gone on vacation.
“I’m hungry,” Ryan finally announced. “You wanna get somethin’ ta eat, Pey?” he asked, and I couldn’t help but feel giddy that he’d taken it upon himself to shorten my full name into what I hoped might be a…pet name?
“Oh, you gotta take her to Croissant d’Or Patisserie!” Trina piped up from nowhere, suddenly appearing right beside me.
Ryan rolled his eyes. “What is it with you and that place?”
But Trina was ignoring him, her attention completely on me. “Peyton, it’s the best place in N’awlins for pastries and croissants. Their napoleon is to die for!” she continued, her eyes wide and her head bobbing up and down as if she were subconsciously agreeing with herself. “I’m tellin’ you, it’s to die for!”
I glanced up at Ryan and shrugged. “Well, how can we turn that down?”
Ryan chuckled. “Guess we can’t.”
Croissant d’Or Patisserie was located on Ursalines Avenue in the French Quarter. It was a cute little place with high ceilings and white subway tiling on all the walls, offset with blue tiles around the perimeters of the doorways. The decorative accent that caught my attention immediately, though, was the incredibly intricate crown molding. In contrast with the baby-blue ceiling, the crown molding (which had to be at least a foot or two tall) featured a white background with inset white ribboning above cascading boughs of pink, yellow, and white roses.
“Ryan Kelly, long time no see,” the girl behind the counter said with a half-smile aimed at the man in question. She leaned against the glass case covering myriad pastries, croissants, and sandwiches and raised a brow at Ryan who seemed a bit…uncomfortable. He cleared his throat and I could see the surprise registering in his eyes as soon as they focused on her.
“Hi, Jenny, how are you?” he asked, thrusting both of his hands inside his pockets while he displayed a sudden and thorough interest in a piece of carrot cake behind the glass.
“I’m fine,” the girl answered. She was pretty with long, straight dark hair and large brown eyes…brown eyes that narrowed once she focused on me. “And who is this?” she asked, feigning interest but there was definitely something closer to jealous annoyance behind her eyes.
“Ah, excuse my poor manners,” Ryan said with a put-on cough as he took the few steps that separated us and, reaching out for my forearm, pulled me in front of him before then deciding he wanted me standing beside him instead. “This is…Peyton,” he finished.
“Nice to meet you,” I said with a hurried smile as I wondered why in the world Ryan was acting so bizarre. He cleared his throat for the second time in the course of four minutes and then pulled me into him, wrapping his arm around me as he pointed at what looked like a ham and cheese croissant sitting on the top shelf behind the glass. I was so surprised by the sudden physical contact that I didn’t even respond.
“Those are pretty damn good, Pey,” he said, still pointing at the croissants. When I glanced up at him with a confused expression, he simply shrugged and smiled in such a manner that I realized he was begging me to play along…why, I had no clue, but figured I’d find out shortly.
“Ham and cheese croissant for you, Ryan?” Jenny asked impatiently and then frowned at me. “You know what you want to order?”
“Um, I’ll have the same,” I answered with a sheepish smile before I remembered Trina’s comment about the napoleons. “Oh, and a napoleon.”
Jenny nodded but didn’t say anything more, simply ringing us both up. She then spouted out our total with stiff lips. Ryan was just as quiet as he paid and then led me through the bustling room to a small table in the corner, just beside a door that led to the bathroom, which appeared to be outside in a courtyard of sorts.
“So, lemme guess, bad date?” I asked as I realized neither of us had ordered anything to drink.
He glanced at me and smiled, shaking his head. “Never even had a date with her.”
“So?”
He sighed. “She just has…this…thing for me,” he finished finally and then threw his hands up in the air like he just didn’t understand why any woman would have a “thing” for him. Apparently he hadn’t looked in the mirror lately. “That’s why I usually try to avoid this place.” He took a breath and then offered me a smile of consolation. “I’m sorry I had to recruit you.”
“Ah, you mean, into playing the part of the girlfriend?” I asked with a small grin.
“Yeah, thanks for playin’ along.”
I caught the whiff of freshly brewed coffee coming from the counter area and had a sudden thirst pang. Damn it all, but I was going to have to brave the scorned woman, otherwise known as Jenny, because I really, really wanted a cup of coffee. “Welcome,” I answered absentmindedly. “That coffee is calling my name.”
“That’s right!” Ryan exclaimed with a slight chuckle as he shook his head. “We didn’t order any beverages!”
“Yeah, you were too concerned with escaping the lovelorn looks of your admirer over there,” I answered with an amused smile as I inclined my head in Jenny’s direction.
“I’ll get us some coffees,” Ryan answered as he stood up and, eyeing Jenny, grumbled something unintelligible.
“Going back into the trenches?” I asked with a slight laugh.
He cocked his head to the side and sighed dramatically. “The things I do for you, Peyton Clark.”
I laughed again and watched him meander to the front counter where he made small talk with Jenny, who still looked like she was pretty ticked off that he and I were here together. His shoulders were tight, giving him the overall look of someone completely uncomfortable. Moments later, he paid for the coffees, thanked her, and lumbered back toward our table.
“Was the mission successful?” I asked as he handed me a mug of steaming coffee, followed by a small carafe of cream. I dutifully accepted both, immediately pouring half of the cream into the coffee and following suit with two packets of Splenda.
“As successful as it could be, given the circumstances,” he muttered.
I smiled at him innocently and even batted my eyelashes, deciding to play the fun game of prying. “So, what’s wrong with Jenny? She’s a pretty girl and she’s obviously into you…”
He shrugged and feigned interest in his coffee, not even bothering to glance up at me when he answered. “She’s not my type.”
I took a sip of my coffee. “Why not? What’s your type?”
“Not her,” he answered evasively and then turned around in his seat, presumably to check and see if our food was on its way.
“Why not her?” I continued prodding, determined to get some juicy morsels out of him.
He chuckled, bringing his attention back to me. “You are relentless!”
I shrugged. “Hey, I figured you owed me one for forcing me into playing the part of your girlfriend and, consequently, suffering the wrath of Jenny, the harpy!”
“T
he harpy!” he repeated and exploded into a raucous laugh.
I smiled but wasn’t quite finished. “That’s right, the harpy! I can also tell that this whole subject makes you very uncomfortable so of course I want to stick my nose where it doesn’t belong…”
He laughed again but didn’t seem in the least bit offended or irritated that I was prying. “Okay, Peyton,” he started, leaning toward me as he enunciated each syllable of my name. “She’s very clingy, she’s not interestin’, and I’m not attracted to her. How’s that for why she isn’t my type?”
I shrugged and sipped my coffee, not sure why I was so incredibly happy to hear him say those words. “She’s a pretty girl.”
He nodded but then glanced around the room before his eyes settled back on me. “This room is full of pretty girls.”
I took another sip and glanced around, realizing he was right—there were quite a few attractive women around us. Realizing my mug had given me a coffee mustache, I licked the top of my lip. “So what’s the problem with them?”
He chuckled and shook his head, like I was trying his patience. But it was all very much put on because a smile lurked at the corners of his mouth. “I’m talkin’ to the only pretty girl in this room who I care to talk to.”
I plunked my coffee mug on the table and leaned back, realizing surprise was already echoing through my entire body. “Wow, Ryan, that was a good one!”
He chuckled and nodded. “Yeah, you liked it?”
“I did! So tell me, did you come up with that one yourself or was that borrowed from a Hallmark card?”
He shook his head and playfully swatted at me. “You, Peyton Clark, are a ballbuster.”
I laughed and even though I knew I was headed into dangerous territory, I couldn’t seem to stop myself. “Are yours feeling a little sensitive?”
Ryan’s eyebrows reached for the ceiling in obvious surprise that I was referencing his man beans. But the surprise only lasted for a few seconds before a knowing smile captured his mouth, and I realized he could play as down and dirty as I could, which was a relief because the last thing I wanted to do was offend his genteel Southern manners. “Nah, I’m all man…these puppies are made of steel!”
I couldn’t help my laugh but then struggled to hold back another quip, instead burying my face in my coffee mug as I emptied the last few drops into my mouth. When I put the mug back on the table, I watched Ryan reach inside his back jeans pocket and produce a folded-up piece of paper, which he handed to me. “Here are the names of three contractors I told you I’d recommend for your remodel.”
“Oh,” I said, surprised our conversation had taken this turn and disappointed all the while. Even though I’d thought Ryan was right there with me, enjoying our flirtation, it seemed like maybe he wasn’t as comfortable with it as I’d thought. And, yes, I had to wonder if maybe it was because I wasn’t his type either? Or it probably had to do with his deceased wife.
“Like I told you, I know these men personally,” Ryan finished at the exact moment that Jenny appeared at our table with our food order. She said nothing as she unloaded both croissantwiches and my napoleon. She then spun on the ball of her foot, returning to the counter just as quietly as she’d come.
I swallowed hard as I unfolded the paper and glanced down at the scratchy handwriting that said, “Swan’s Remodeling,” “Tate Construction,” and “Tandy and Sons.” I cleared my throat and folded the paper in half again, feeling the color draining from my cheeks as I glanced up at Ryan, who was studying me intently.
“Don’t tell me you’ve changed your mind?” he asked. I didn’t answer, so he shook his head. “Peyton, that’s too much work to take on yourself. Not only that, but if you bid out each and every job, you’ll end up spendin’ a fortune.”
“Ryan, I want you to be the general.” I wasn’t sure I’d said the words until they were already out of my mouth, and Ryan looked back at me like I’d just sprouted another head.
“What?” he asked.
The color returned to my cheeks and I could feel myself blushing from my head to my toes. “I want you to be the general contractor on the job,” I repeated, my heart in my throat. It wasn’t lost on me that both of our ham and cheese croissants and my napoleon sat untouched.
Running his hands through his hair, he suddenly seemed distracted, his attention riveted on the view beyond the front windows. “I, uh, I can’t,” he said finally, his gaze settling on me. “I’m no longer in the construction business.”
“I know.”
He pointed to the folded paper clutched in my right hand. “So, choose someone from that list. I can show you lots of the homes they’ve worked on, if that’s what you’re worried about. If you don’t want to take my word—”
“I trust your word,” I interrupted. “I’m sure they’re great.”
“They are all highly qualified for your job, Pey—”
“But I want you to run my job,” I interrupted him again.
“I don’t know what that sister of mine put into your head,” he started and shook his head.
“She didn’t put anything into my head,” I answered immediately. I definitely didn’t want to get Trina into any sort of trouble. “She just told me you remodeled the Omni hotel, and that was enough for me.” I took a breath and beamed at him. “And the Omni hotel was beyond impressive, Ryan. I mean, hot damn, you did a good job!”
He cleared his throat and frowned at me, but a smile burned at the ends of his eyes and lips. “Flattery won’t get you anywhere.”
But I had a feeling it would. “Going to play hardball, are you?” I asked with a quick laugh. “Okay, how about this—I know you and I don’t know them.”
“I could introduce you and then you would know them.”
“Blah,” I said and stuck my tongue out at him as I searched for another good reason why Ryan should run my job and not someone else. “You’re my neighbor.”
“So what?”
“Soooo, that bodes very well for me.”
He crossed his arms against his chest and studied me with dancing eyes. “Why?”
“Because it means you have to do a good job!” I answered with a heartfelt smile. “Because if you don’t, I know where you live and I will come after you!”
A smile cracked its way across his lips but vanished just seconds later as he shook his head and sighed. “I, uh, I’m sorry…”
“If you don’t take on the job, I won’t hire anyone at all,” I said finally, huffing out my frustration as I tightened my arms against my chest to prove I was serious. “And even though you don’t know me that well yet, I promise I’m stubborn when it comes to getting my way.”
He laughed and then grew quiet, studying me while a smile still crested his lips. “Trust me, I believe you.”
“And it wasn’t that cold with the heater on…”
He sighed. “Goddamn, that bloody heater…”
“It’s your choice.”
We just sat there looking at one another, me with my arms crossed and a severe-looking expression on my face, while he wore a poker face. Neither of us had so much as touched our food. Finally he sighed and thrust both of his hands onto the tabletop, making it shake. “I don’t have a work crew anymore. I don’t even know what tools I still have,” he protested, but I shook my head.
“You can figure all that stuff out.” I took a deep breath, wondering if he would actually go for it. “I expect you to give me a fair price and I also want to know how long you think the project will take to complete.”
He didn’t reply for a while but looked at me as if he were seeing right through me. “I’m not agreein’ to anything before I inspect it,” he started with a determined look in his eyes. Probably the same expression I had in mine.
“That’s fair enough,” I answered, smiling up at him. “So when shall I schedule the inspection?”
He frowned, but it seemed insincere. “No time like the present, eh?”
Ryan frowned, then sighed, then fr
owned again. I’d just given him a tour of my house, and from the looks of it, he wasn’t impressed.
“She’s a beauty, don’t you think?” I asked hopefully, nudging him in the arm like a used car salesman while beaming the widest smile I could manage. We’d worked our way through all five bedrooms, four bathrooms, the living room, family room, dining room, laundry room, and the kitchen. Now we stood on the curb outside, both of us gazing up at the monstrosity that I called my new home. While my face reflected hopeful optimism, Ryan’s did not.
“It’s saggin’ on one side,” he answered, straight-lipped.
“What? Where?” I demanded, moving my attention to the far west side of the house where Ryan pointed. Yep, it definitely looked as if the house was a tad shorter on one side. “That just gives it character.”
He glanced down at me and raised both brows. “That, or it’s got a shoddy foundation.”
“I’m gonna go with it’s got character.”
Even though the rain had been nonstop for the better portion of the day, it had paused for the moment, although dark-gray clouds still occupied the skies and the wind hadn’t let up. I wrapped my arms around myself and pulled my blue raincoat closer, adjusting the brim of my baseball cap so it didn’t sit too low on my forehead. That was one thing I loved about having shortish hair—it always looked good underneath a ball cap. It was like the two were made for one another.
Ryan glanced over at me again, this time only arching one brow, but a smile still pulled at the corner of his full lips. And, yes, his dimples were very much present and accounted for. In his dark-brown sweater and navy-blue jeans, he had a relaxed yet preppy look, like he’d just jumped out of a J.Crew catalog. But his calloused, large hands, along with the expanse of his incredibly broad shoulders, definitely were tacit testimony that he wasn’t afraid of hard work. He probably welcomed it.
When he looked back at my house, his smile faded. “Peyton, this job is enormous,” he announced before looking down at me and shaking his head. “I don’t even know what would possess you to want to take on such a huge project.”