[ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
seen this place remembering her love of old houses and how she had lamented the fact
to him once that it was a terrible thing that the majority of the older homes in the town
were being converted either to condos or chopped up into apartments. Granted, this house
was far from the mansions that decorated Main Street in Weldon, but it was built some
time in the thirties, as far as he could tell, and although it was smallish by some standards
more like a cottage than a full-sized family home it was solid as a rock and built to
last. He d decorated it in muted solid shades of earth tones, buying serviceable furniture
and thinking, in the back of his mind that eventually he d marry someone who d take the
decorating bull by the horns and do a much better job than he ever could. John was
always happy to wear a uniform to work it cut down on having to try to color
coordinate his wardrobe, and trying to get a whole house to look nice color wise was
damned near impossible, as far as he was concerned.
So he d pinned his hopes on that elusive woman who would become his wife . . .
. . . who seemed to always have longish curly blonde hair and bright green eyes, and a
voice that sent shivers up his spine . . .
Laurel, who was a terrible house nut and watched all of the home improvement and
house buying shows she could on cable, was trying not to gawk too much.
You haven t been here before, have you? he asked, watching her blush.
No, you bought this . . . after . . . her words trailed off awkwardly, and she got even
redder, staring at the carpet at her feet.
John cleared his throat. Well, how about the nickel tour? he offered with pride. It
wasn t the Taj Mahal, but he d made a lot of improvements to it himself, and he liked his
house . . . however empty it was to come home to when he got off shift in the morning.
This is the living room, he said in a bad imitation of an announcer s voice. His voice
was too deep to pull it off, but she laughed softly, and he felt his heart and other areas
swell.
I think I got that idea, somehow. Since that s where the couch and the TV are . . . The
couch was of truly massive proportions much too big for the size of the room. And
upholstered in deep, dark chocolate velour, with horrors a matching, equally out sized
easy chair. There was a lot of unrelenting brown in that room. If she was in a mood to be
uncharitable, shit brown.
He took about five steps away from her. And here we have the dining room.
Beautiful table and chairs. It was solid oak, all of it, she d bet. When Laurel moved
closer, she could see that it was well worn, but lovingly cared for. She could also plainly
see where the initials LEW were carved into one of the leaves. That s your Mom s old
table! And with my initials still in it!
Yep.
Boy, did I get a spanking for that one! Worse than if I d done it to my mom s table
but I couldn t it was Formica. She whirled on him. It was your fault I got spanked,
you know. You dared me to do it.
John was wearing an entirely unapologetic grin, leaning against the door jam that led to
the kitchen.. I didn t make you, though. You could have just not done it . . .
That wasn t much of a possibility, since Laurel was had been as stubborn a child as she
was now as an adult. She snorted. Yeah, right. Not likely.
Still grinning, he bulldozed his way through the crowd of his family, saying, Tour
coming through. Make way!
Everyone hugged Laurel as if she was a long lost sister.
This is the kitchen, John announced loudly, as if it was news.
What was your first clue, I wonder? Dean needled.
John frowned down an inch or so at his older brother, knowing it would have no effect at
all. Come over here and I ll show you the bedrooms.
Keep the doors open, John . . . came Dean s teasing warning.
You sound just like Dad, Junior, and in this case, that is not a compliment.
He showed her down the hall to the guest bedroom first, which was small but relatively
well appointed as an office, with a computer and desk, but also a twin bed for when his
nieces or nephews visited. The hall bath was next, where he proudly informed her that
he d done the plumbing himself.
Yeah, that s why when you flush the toilet it backs up into the tub, Rob, Kathy s
[ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]