CHAPTER THREE

 

 

 

Kiki saw the man with the folder in his hand, looking rather surprised when he saw her in the doorway.

“Hello?” she said politely.

The man’s eyes widened when she spoke, as if startled. As Kiki stepped out onto the porch and the sunlight shifted again. The man’s features came into view and she found herself looking at a guy who would have been better suited on a movie screen. A cursory three-second examination determined him to be a fairly gorgeous male specimen hanging around by her fountain.

Good thing I opened the door….

“Hi,” he said, smiling politely.

Kiki came off the porch, heading in his direction, but the truth was that she was a little startled and more than a little star-struck. He was a good deal taller than her five feet and four inches, so much so that as she drew close to him, she realized her head only came to his chest. He had dark blond hair, cut in that stylish messy-cropped style that was so damn sexy, and his features were even and proportionate set within a granite jaw. He had rather lush lips.

But it was his eyes that had her attention; they were smoldering and intelligent. She couldn’t describe it any better than that. All she knew was that she couldn’t take her eyes off of them, or off of him.

“Can I help you?” she asked, extending her hand to him. “I own the house. Are you from Rocklin Construction?”

Trace took her hand and shook it. It was supple and warm. The truth was that he was finding it difficult to speak at the moment. He’d been startled by her appearance, a woman with long chestnut-brown hair shrouded in the shadows of the old porch, but the moment she came into the light, he’d been rather stunned by what he saw. Like a moth to flame, or a magnet to steel, he’d been sucked in by the sweet face and big, brown eyes in a lightning-fast instant. The closer she came, the more speechless he felt at all of that beauty staring back at him. But she had asked a question and he was struggling to form an answer.

“Yes,” he said, releasing her very soft hand. “I’m here to deliver a bid.”

Kiki grinned, wriggling her well-shaped eyebrows. “Uh-oh,” she sighed dramatically. “Wait a minute; let me get the smelling salts.”

Trace grinned; he couldn’t help himself. “Do you want to sit down while I deliver the bad news?”

She laughed softly and he was utterly, instantly entranced. “I think I’d probably better lay down,” she threw a thumb in the direction of the house. “Let me go lay down on the couch before you start talking.”

Trace laughed in return, unable to help himself. “Want me to call 911 now or should I wait and see how this pans out?”

“Is it that bad?”

“I guess that depends what side of the bid you’re on – the giving end or the receiving end.”

Kiki put her hands on her face in horror, but she was still giggling. The man made her feel giddy as hell and she’d only known him all of ten seconds. She didn’t even know his name.

“That’s okay,” she assured him, sobering a little. “I’m Kiki Conrad, by the way. I didn’t introduce myself. I just said I’m the owner like that defines my role in life.”

His grin remained. “Not a bad role if you can get it, I suppose,” he said, but he sobered as well and his eyes glittered at her. “Trace Rocklin. Nice to meet you.”

Her brown eyes twinkled. “Lucky me. I get one of the Rocklins to deliver the bad news.”

“One of them,” he agreed, thinking that he was, in fact, the lucky one here. “My dad had another appointment and couldn’t make it to deliver the bid, so I’m the substitute.”

Not a bad substitute, she thought. Trace Rocklin. That name brought back memories from the cobweb of her teenage years. Trace had been a friend of her older brother but she didn’t remember much about the man because those were the years when she and her brother hated each other. That included hating his friends. Too bad, too. She was coming to wish she’d paid a little more attention to the big, strong, and rather silent Trace Rocklin. The boy had grown into a smoking-hot man.

Kiki’s gaze lingered on him a moment, wondering if she should say anything to him about past acquaintances before deciding it was better off unsaid. If he hadn’t yet made the correlation, then she wasn’t going to point it out. She gestured towards the house.

“Well, come on inside and lay it on me,” she said. “Might as well get it over with.”

Trace had never in his life gone so willingly with someone. Forgotten were thoughts of heading back to his truck and leaving altogether. As he followed her across the walk and to the front door, he found himself checking out her curvaceous silhouette, narrow waist, and gorgeous backside. The woman had a killer butt tucked up into a pair of tight jeans. In fact, everything about her was killer. The long hair that tumbled down her back was shiny and soft-looking. He resisted the urge to reach out and touch it.

But he was jolted from is rather dirty thoughts as she opened the front door, stepping aside to usher him in. Then he was further distracted as the smell of dust, old wood, and moth balls hit him full-on. He found himself looking at a cavernous parlor with an equally massive second parlor beyond. There was a fireplace dividing the rooms, an enormous piece of work complete with exquisite Batchelder tiles. It was a typical Pasadena older home, so unique in architecture and style to the area.

“Wow,” he said, looking around. “This is quite a tomb.”

Kiki’s gaze followed his as she grinned. “That’s exactly what this place is. A tomb. You should see the rest of it. I swear you’d think Dr. Frankenstein is going to walk from the walls at any moment.”

He chuckled. “Creepy?”

“I sleep with garlic and a crucifix. What does that tell you?”

His laughter grew. “That you probably chase your husband from bed with the smell.”

She didn’t even stop to think that it might have been a leading question, which it was, but Trace had worked it into the conversation so beautifully that she hadn’t noticed. She threw up her hands for emphasis.

“There’s no self-respecting husband on earth that would have let his wife buy a tomb like this,” she said. “I don’t have one, anyway, so it doesn’t really matter. Come on into the kitchen so you can give me the bad news. Sorry, but there’s nowhere else to sit right now.”

So she wasn’t married, which made him feel strangely happy. Then he became angry at himself because he shouldn’t have had any reaction one way or the other, nor should he have even made the leading statement, but it had all happened so fast. He was feeling rather upswept by her, losing control of his usually controlled senses.

Following the woman’s lovely round bottom through what was presumably the massive dining room and into the ancient kitchen by way of a narrow butler’s pantry, he noticed that the pantry was lined with hundred-year-old cabinetry. It was truly something to see, smelling as old and musty as it possibly could.

The kitchen had sixty-year-old fixtures and tile that was at least that old. He looked down at the old linoleum, which at one time would have been the height of fashion. It seemed like such a sad, old place, like a former movie star begging for someone to help it shine again. He could almost hear the pleas.

“This place must have really been a showplace in its day,” he commented.

Kiki sat on one of two wooden stools in the room, shoved up against the old kitchen counter. Her gaze followed his as he inspected the room.

“It was,” she replied. “I’ve done some research on it through the Pasadena Historical Society. The home was built in 1895 by Mr. Austin Glen, an Atchison, Topeka and Santa Fe railroad executive who has a street named after him somewhere around here. Anyway, he was friends with the Greene and Greene brothers, who are so iconic in Pasadena, so they designed this house for him, although it’s not the traditional Greene and Greene Craftsman. It has Mission elements in it because Mr. Glen wanted something more with more California Spanish influence. His family lived here for about twenty years, whereupon they sold it to a silent movie actress who really turned it into a showplace. Back then, the house sat on about five acres of land and she had stables and ponds and even a giant swimming pool, all of which are gone now. There were stories about the wild parties she would throw here and then get the cops drunk when they showed up to bust it up. But she died in the nineteen sixties and the house apparently has seen a steady decline since then.”

By this time, he was listening to her story with interest. He smiled faintly as he sat down on the stool next to her.

“And now you have it,” he said, putting the estimating folder on the counter. “Planning on any wild parties like the old movie star did?”

She laughed, displaying perfect teeth. “Not so much,” she said. “I think my partying days are over. I’m little old for that.”

He shot her an expression, gently done, that suggested she was crazy. “I don’t believe that for a minute,” he said, then thought it sounded too much like a compliment and, not wanting to obviously flirt with the woman any more than he already had, he somewhat nervously changed the subject. “Well, it’s quite a project, anyway.”

Kiki nodded, conceding the point. Trace was sitting next to her now, at close range, and her heart was beginning to race at his proximity. At this range, she could see that he had hazel eyes that were almost a dark gold color and they gazed back at her with curiosity and warmth. The guy was unbelievably handsome and it was a struggle for her to keep her head on straight.

“Okay,” she said, pretending to brace herself against the kitchen counter. “I’m sitting down. Lay it on me, brotha.”

He laughed softly at her sense of humor, something he’d seen nearly the moment they started talking. She was very animated and bright, something he found incredibly attractive. He was starting to think obviously flirting with her wasn’t such a bad idea.

“Here it comes,” he said, tearing his eyes away from her and focusing on the folder. “Ready?”

“Ready.”

“Do you want a breakdown or an overall total?”

She shrugged. “Better cut to the chase. The overall total.”

Even as he looked at the numbers, he was reminded that they weren’t right. As he’d suspected from the beginning, the number was so low that it was ridiculous. He had no idea what his dad was thinking when he worked up the estimate, but he might have been thinking the same thing Trace was - that Kiki Conrad was a very beautiful woman and, somehow, that earned her the beautiful woman discount.

His dad was rather a softy, especially after his mom passed away three years before. Dad was lonely. Maybe Ms. Conrad had turned on the charm in the hopes of getting a better deal. She’d certainly been very flirty with Trace and it began to occur to him why. Not knowing the woman at all, her character or moral compass, his sense of self-protection began to kick in. Maybe she was trying to work him, too. Reality hit for him and hit hard.

“The overall total for the complete restoration of the house and grounds is two hundred and forty-three thousand,” he said, businesslike. “That’s just for what we know about; however, as you discover in construction, there are things that pop up all over the place and then a change order would have to be signed. That would increase your costs. Who knows what we’ll find when we start digging in to the walls.”

Kiki could sense his change in manner almost immediately. He’d gone from warm and funny to rather stiff and formal, as if a switch were suddenly thrown. It had all happened the moment he’d looked at that folder and she wondered why. But because he seemed so stiff, she felt a little uncertain. That, and the fact that he’d just slammed her with a rather large bid. Her good mood was gone. She sat back on the stool, her expression a mixture of resignation and disappointment. The fun and games of the past few minutes were definitely over.

“Oh,” she finally said. “Well, that’s more than I’d hoped it would be even though that’s the lowest bid of the day. You said that includes the grounds?”

He looked up from the folder, fixing her in the eye. “Yes,” he replied. “But I have to be honest and tell you that even though we budgeted about twenty thousand for the yard, I don’t think it’s going to be enough. You’ve got a hell of a lot of work out there to do and this is just the bare bones. “

Kiki was coming to suspect he was talking her out of accepting his bid. She didn’t know why, but something in his manner just gave off those vibes. He was beginning to come across impatient, as if he had better things to be doing. It was all very strange, considering things had been fine when they had first met. She began to review their brief conversation in her mind, wondering what she could have said to offend him, because that’s what he was acting like. Evidently, somehow or someway, she had offended him. Instinctively, she backed down. It was clear that, for whatever reason, he didn’t even want the job.

“I see,” she replied to his statement, her manner uncertain yet still friendly. “It’s certainly a lot to think about. I guess I really didn’t know what to expect when I bought this place, so now I know.”

His gaze lingered on her, noticing that her manner was far more subdued as well. He realized he was rather sorry to see that. He’d really liked her animated and funny personality. He was starting to feel confused and guilty about the whole thing.

“Homes like this really are kind of a beast,” he said, easing somewhat. “I guess you really had no way of knowing until you’re right in the middle of it. It’ll be a beautiful place when it’s done, but that’s going to cost.”

She nodded, looking pensive and thoughtful. She hung her head, looking at her feet as she pondered his statement. Then she shrugged her shoulders and stood up.

“Well,” she said, “I guess I have a lot to think about. How long is your bid valid?”

“Thirty days.”

“Can I please have a copy?”

“Sure.” He yanked a sheet of paper out of the folder, forgetful, and handed it to her. “This is your copy.”

“Thanks.”

He watched her as she looked over the numbers, coming to feel like a jerk for being so hard with her when she’d really done nothing to deserve it. His old and familiar insecurities had gotten the better of him, inbred suspicions that had been his constant companion for years. Women had always been something, as a species, that had him on his guard. That inherent suspicion had always served him well, keeping him alive and out of trouble, but he suspected that wasn’t the case today. It began to occur to him that he was so greatly torn because he was very attracted to her. He didn’t want her flirty, sparkly personality to be a ruse. He wanted it to be real.

“Do you have any questions?” he asked, somewhat gently.

Kiki was looking at all of the giant numbers on the sheet. After a couple of moments, she glanced up at him. “Is there anything on here that absolutely, positively doesn’t have to be done? Something that can wait?”

He flipped open his folder to look at the same bid sheet she was looking at. “Well,” he said slowly, “if you don’t mind just doing one thing at a time, it can all be done in pieces, but you will have to do plumbing and electrical first to bring the place up to code. Does any of it work now?”

She nodded, studying the estimate in her hand intently. “The master bathroom works for the most part and the kitchen, living and dining rooms all have power. I can live here, at any rate, but I’ll have to put my other plans on hold, I guess.”

He looked up from the folder. “What plans?”

She pointed to the estimate sheet. “See all of the bathrooms I was planning on renovating?” she asked. “I’m going to turn this place into a bed and breakfast and also a wedding venue. I figured why not? It’s a great location, and Pasadena has become a mecca for that kind of thing. It would be the opportunity to make some money.”

He nodded. “With a place like this, that’s a good idea.”

She glanced up at him. “The house sits on almost an acre and even though everything is overgrown, there’s that gorgeous antique fountain in the front and that spectacular side yard. Well, at least it will be spectacular when I’m finished with it. But that fountain is the best feature on the entire property. In fact, I want to call the venue ‘The Fountain’. It just sounds so romantic. I think it would be a great place for people to get married.”

Trace glanced around the room. “With a big, old house like this, I think you’d have it made,” he said. “People really love intimate venues like this.”

Kiki nodded, her gaze still on the estimate sheet. “That’s what I thought,” she said. “I think the location is perfect because of the house’s proximity to Old Town Pasadena and to the Rose Bowl, but I was kind of hoping that the revenue from the bed and breakfast would help pay for… well, anyway, I guess it doesn’t matter. I’ll figure it out.”

He was still pondering the wedding venue idea. “I was wondering why you were having every bathroom re-done,” he admitted. “I just thought you had a lot of kids.”

She grinned. “Just two girls, both in their first year in college,” she said. “I was going to turn the big attic into their space. See it on the sheet?”

He nodded, his focus on the part of the bid that estimated the build-out of the attic space. “Yes,” he replied. “That build-out isn’t going to be cheap because of the bathroom you’re adding up there.”

“I’m coming to think bathrooms, in general, are very expensive.”

“Yes, they sure are.”

She fell silent, her gaze still on the bid sheet and the disappointing information contained therein. It seemed like the conversation was coming to a dead end and Trace wasn’t sure what more to say to her. He’d been kind of a jerk for the last few minutes and was coming to feel very torn and guilty about the whole thing. Just as he was thinking about calling it quits because he couldn’t think of anything else to say, he noticed something down by his feet. Looking down, he saw a cream-colored, flat-faced dog looking up at him.

“Hey, dog,” he muttered.

Kiki glanced up from the bid and saw who he was talking to. “That’s Stanley.”

“Is he friendly?”

“He’ll lick you to death before you know what hit you.”

He crouched down, scratching the dog on the top of the head. “What kind of dog is he?”

“French Bulldog.” She finally set the bid sheet on the counter and faced him. “I don’t want to keep you any longer because I’m sure you’re very busy, so thanks very much for delivering the bid. And I appreciate you taking the time to answer my questions honestly.”

He stopped scratching the dog and stood up, looking her in the eye. He could feel himself growing soft again, relenting, thinking that he’d been an ass. He’d judged the woman before he even knew her, using old prejudices as justification. All pretty women were the same… weren’t they?

“You’re welcome,” he said, turning in the direction of the front door because she was. “If you have any more questions about the bid, don’t hesitate to call.”

Kiki walked past him on her way to the front of the house. “I won’t,” she said. “But I think receiving three mammoth bids in one day tells me that I maybe need to re-think this whole renovation thing. “

Trace followed her and the dog as they made their way back to the front room. “Like I said, it doesn’t have to be all at once,” he told her as they crossed from the dining room into the front room with the massive fireplace. “You may want to think about just doing it in pieces; you know, the most important parts first.”

She nodded seriously. “I’ll definitely think about it,” she replied as they reached the front door and she opened it for him. When their eyes met, she forced a smile. “Thank you again for coming. I really appreciate it.”

He just looked at her, forcing a rather weak smile in return because he was feeling like such a lout about everything. “You’re welcome.”

For lack of anything more to say about the whole thing, he walked out onto the porch with Kiki right behind him. She paused on the porch steps as he continued on, heading towards the massive antique fountain. Kiki watched his big body as he moved, his broad shoulders and masculine lines. He also had a great ass, something that drew her attention more than it should have. Too bad she had offended him and chased him off with whatever she must have said. She knew she was going to spend a lot of time pondering that dilemma.

He paused by the fountain, turning to look at it and distracting her view of his butt. She saw where he was looking. In fact, when she first saw him, he had been gazing at the fountain. It must have held some interested for him.

“I didn’t see what your bid said about the fountain,” Kiki said. “It’s original to the house, you know. It’s one hundred and seventeen years old. I’d sure like to see it work again. It’s so much a part of this house.”

Trace looked at her. “It’s prominent, that’s for sure.”

She shook her head and moved closer. “I meant that the fountain actually identifies the house, which is why I want to call the venue ‘The Wedding Fountain’,” she said. “Austin Glen named the house Agua de la Vida after the mythical location of the Fountain of Youth. Presumably, this fountain is representative of that and it’s important to me that it be restored. I want it to be the best feature here.”

He smiled faintly. “Did you tell my dad that? About the fountain, I mean. He likes old stories like that.”

Kiki shook her head. “I didn’t tell your dad anything.”

“Why not?”

“Because I’ve never met him.”

He looked at her, both confused and surprised. “You haven’t? But…”

“My dad was here the day your dad came to do the estimate,” she told him, cutting him off. “Whatever was discussed was between the two of them and I don’t remember if my dad told me if they discussed the fountain.”

I’ve never met him. So she didn’t get the beautiful woman discount. Trace stared at her, feeling as awful as he possibly could. He’d jumped to conclusions and, like an idiot, got what he deserved. He was ashamed and embarrassed. This beautiful, sexy, and funny woman whom he felt more attraction to in the first few minutes of knowing her than he’d ever felt for anyone in his life was innocent of what he’d mentally accused her of. He began to seriously backpedal, wondering how he could mend the damage, not because he wanted the job but because he felt like he needed to make amends to her.

“Tell you what,” he said, somewhat softly. “Why don’t you walk me around the place and let me do the estimate based on what you want. Maybe I can shave some of this down. Maybe I can’t. But it’s worth a try. I’m starting to think maybe my dad got his signals crossed or something, because this bid didn’t look right to me from the start.”

She seemed to perk up. “Really? Why would you say that?”

He didn’t want to tell her that he thought it was way too low. Now it seemed like he wanted to make it up to her for his turncoat behavior inside; friendly to her one minute, an ass to her the next. Maybe the truth was that he just didn’t want to leave.

“I’m not sure,” he said, shrugging as he looked around the dead yard that had been a real showplace in days gone by. “I think maybe I’d better give this a shot myself. Maybe I’ll come up with something my dad didn’t.”

The light came back into those luscious brown eyes. “That would be great,” she agreed. “Are you sure you have time right now?”

His hazel eyes took on that warm glimmer again, the one she’d seen when they’d first met.

“I’ll make the time.”