Page 55 of Long Hard Road

“The house is only about 70% done right now,” he said as he returned a second hand to the steering wheel. He sounded nervous. “We got most of the walls painted and put the floors in last week. I got half of the kitchen cabinets installed and I’m still waiting for the countertops. Most of the rooms still need crown molding and baseboards. I still need to tile the bathrooms.”

“I think it’s so cool that you know how to do all that stuff. How did you learn?”

“My grandfather built the main house and he taught my dad a lot. Dad taught all of us kids. We helped him build a cottage for our mom and some of the barns and maintenance buildings on the property. For a few things he didn’t teach me, I was able to have one of our employees show me. It’s kind of like having a bunch of helpful uncles.”

I envied his relationship with his family and the larger Crestwood community. “It must be nice to have so many people around you to rely upon.”

“I’m very lucky,” he acknowledged. “Could you ever picture yourself living in a place like Crestwood?”

“If you had asked me that two weeks ago, I would’ve laughed. But now… I don’t know.” I looked at the beautiful farmhouse in front of us. “I think this could be a great place to live with the right person.”

I watched his jaw tighten as he failed to hold back a smile. “What do you think of the house?”

We were close enough now that I could start to take in all the details. The exterior was a crisp white with a black roof and black trimmed windows. The windows on the first floor were all large and reflected the snowy surroundings. A large porch wrapped all the way around both sides of the house and it had a beautiful, detailed banister.

“That porch.” I groaned. “I dream about having a porch like that.”

“That’s one of my favorite things too.” He put the truck in Park and turned off the engine. “I’ve already built some rocking chairs and a swing to put out here.”

“Do you make a lot of furniture?”

“Too much,” he said with a laugh. “I’ve got a back-stock of it in one of our barns just waiting for this house to be finished. Whenever I’m not making something for the guest ranch or the bookstore, I’m making something for this house.”

“Wait. Did you make those beautiful bookcases at the front of the store?” I had spent almost as much time studying those shelves as I had shopping for books.

“I gave them to Harp as a gift after she signed the lease. I was so proud of her for following through on starting her own business. She had wanted to own her own bookstore since she was a kid.”

It was official. Nate was the perfect man. He made his little sister incredible bookcases to celebrate her business achievement. “You are a good brother.”

“I had to pay her back for all the care packages she mailed me when I was deployed.” He nodded toward the house. “Want to check out the inside?”

“Absolutely.”

“Okay. Wait here.” He jumped out of the truck and bounded quickly over to my side to open the door. “The snow is kind of deep right here. Be careful.”

“Do you always open doors or is this part of your wooing process?” I teased, putting my hands on his shoulders as he lifted me out of the truck and over the deepest part of the snow. He kept his hands on my waist even after my feet were on the ground.

“Both.” His eyes drifted to my lips. “You have a very kissable mouth, Madison.”

“Kissable?” I ran my tongue over my lower lip. “Not fuckable?”

He sucked in a sharp breath. “Based on the dreams I was having last night, I’d say your mouth is incredibly fuckable, angel.”

“My dreams support that assumption.” I pulled myself up to give him a long, deep kiss. Our tongues tangled with urgency until Nate slipped his hands under my ass and hoisted me up. I wrapped my legs around his hips and gave his lower lip a gentle suck before pulling back. “What are you doing?” I gasped when he started walking.

“Carrying you to the house so your feet don’t get wet and cold.” His long strides weren’t at all inhibited by carrying my extra weight.

“Nate. I’m perfectly capable of walking.”

“I know. Doesn’t mean I’m going to let you, though.” He had already reached the porch steps which he scaled effortlessly. When he set me down, my boots touched a dry wooden floor. “If you don’t mind, we need to take our boots off outside so we don’t ruin the floors.”

“No problem.” I lifted a foot and waved it. “I assume you won’t allow me to untie my own laces either.”

“Nope.” He snatched my foot from the air and tugged on the lace.

I giggled and tried to pull my leg back. “I was kidding, Nate.”

One boot was already removed and he gestured for me to lift the other one. “Up.”