False Impressions Read online

  Slowly she unzipped her coat and hung it on the back of a kitchen chair. The chair and table were something out of a Little House on the Prairie episode. Old, scarred, and probably chalked full of memories. The table could seat at least a dozen and looked like it had over the years.

  The pine cabinets were in excellent condition, the glass panes showing off mismatched pieces of pottery and china. The flower wallpaper, gingham curtains, and rooster cookie jar fit the eclectic farm house to a T, but did not match the sexy man who lived there.

  “Here,” sexy man said as he dropped two large three-ring binders on the pine table. “These are the properties I own and that need up-keeping. That’s going to be your primary job, if you’re up for it. There are twenty rental properties. Some are apartments, a couple duplexes, and some houses. Right now, all but the duplex we just finished are rented. Tenants don’t call too often, but when they do, I like to head out to the place right away and fix whatever is going on. Wintertime seems to generate the most calls. I also plow everyone out. And shovel the walkways. Is this something you’re up to? Have you ever driven a plow truck before?”

  He was back to business, too business-like, but that beat the alternative. “Um, yes. That works for me. And yes, I’ve driven a plow truck. I don’t have a plow on my truck though.”

  “Not a problem. You can use mine. You can keep it parked at your place or you can drive over here and pick it up when the time comes.”

  Hoping to avoid as much time with him as possible, she opted to keep the truck at her house. “Fine by me, but you’ll need to be sure to plow me out as well. You can do me last.” He smiled and she knew he wanted to continue with the play on words, but thankfully he bit his tongue and turned somber again.

  “Read the files. Each section is a different property with the address and name and number of the tenants, any past problems or possible future problems. I mapped out a plowing schedule for you as well, based on location of the properties to your house and the age and occupation of the tenants. Some of them leave for work pretty early in the morning and need to be plowed ASAP. Others don’t leave their house much in the winter and can wait.” He stopped and tucked his hands in his back pockets. “Questions?”

  “Um, no, well, yes, I’m sure I will have dozens. It’s a lot for me to take in. I didn’t realize you owned so many properties.”

  “If it’s too much I can—”

  “No, no, it’s fine. Only, Levi is in preschool part time, and I’m not sure I’ll be able to get all of the work done while he’s in school. And the plowing, I can’t, or rather I won’t, wake up Levi in the middle of the night to plow. I don’t mind taking him with me during his waking hours, but I’m not going to be on the clock twenty-four/seven.”

  Cole rubbed his hands across his face and turned to the counter. “Yeah, forgot about that. Coffee?”

  “Sure.”

  He poured two mugs and placed them on the table. “Sugar? Cream?”

  “Yes to both, please.”

  After sliding an adorable rooster sugar bowl down to her from the other end of the table, he grabbed a gallon of milk from the fridge and set it on the table.

  “What, no special milk crockery?”

  He looked surprised and then relaxed with a smile. “It’s my folks’ place. Well, they recently moved out and I moved in. We’re sort of in between stages right now. I’m in no hurry to take over my mom’s kitchen, but I don’t waste my time pouring a perfectly good gallon of milk into that rooster over there.” He pointed to a box on the floor that held random pieces of kitchenware. One being a rooster pitcher.

  “That explains the décor. I didn’t think it was your style.”

  “No.” He shook his head. “Definitely not my style.”

  They drank their coffee in silence while Sam pretended to read the pages of the binder she flipped through.

  “So, about the plowing…” she hedged.

  “Yeah. I didn’t think about that. We’ll work something out. Besides, it’s not like I need a ton of help around here, but I can’t run the farm and all the properties at the same time. My folks have been running this place while I’ve done Tucker Properties, but they’re sort of retiring and convinced me to hire some help.”

  “It’s nice that you’re taking over the family business.”

  A strange look crossed his face. “Well, yeah. Anyway, I can probably handle most of the plowing, but if the situation arises, how about I leave the plow truck here and if we have a storm during the day, I’ll pick you up and you can bring me back here.”

  “Why don’t I drive here myself to pick up the truck? I have four-wheel drive as well.”

  Cole wrapped his hands around his mug and brought it to his lips all the while staring over the rim at Sam. “Yeah, I suppose that’s true,” he said into his mug. His eyes were as dark and steamy as his coffee. Something was going on in that head of his, and it excited and scared her to pieces. When he lowered his cup, she made the mistake of glancing down at his masculine lips that slowly spread into a disarming grin.

  Abruptly she shot up and snatched up the binders. “I’ll go home and read these. You’ll let me know if anyone calls and needs repairs or…whatever. Right?”

  “Take this.” Cole handed her a cell phone. “It’s the Tucker Properties cell. The tenants are the only ones who have the number. They’ll call if they need anything.”

  Their hands touched briefly during the cell phone exchange, and she knew immediately that the steamy eyes he was making at her had nothing to do with the temperature of the coffee but the temperature of their bodies.

  Faster than a nail gun could fire, Sam bolted out of the enchanting farmhouse and as far away from the sexy man who clashed so drastically with it.

  Chapter 4

  The next week was frustrating as hell. Cole had plowed through his daily chores and projects at the farm and managed to catch up on his bills, files, taxes, and supply orders without so much as a single interruption. His parents finished up their packing and moving—thanks to his brothers Connor and Mason—and were in a world of bliss with their new place.

  They never looked so happy. All the responsibility of the farm had obviously paid its toll on his Doreen and George, yet they never complained. In fact, they always seemed so happy with their job, their life. Cole supposed they were, but they were nearing seventy and working the farm was hard, physical labor.

  Most of the revenue came from boarding other horses, and the riding lessons raked in some serious cash during the spring, summer, and fall. Someday he’d like to build an indoor ring and offer lessons year round. The winters in New Hampshire were too unpredictable to schedule regular training sessions. They could have a foot of snow one week, and if the sun happened to be out, chances were the wind chill factor would knock the temps down by twenty degrees. No one wanted to be outside in those conditions. There was the feeding, grooming, cleaning of the horses, the tending to the pigs that he raised and butchered, and keeping the chickens safe and eggs collected. And those were just the winter jobs. In the summer, he would have to add haying, more riding lessons, and keeping up the elaborate garden for the farmer’s market. How the hell could he squeeze in maintaining all his properties?

  That too started out as a family business that was passed along to Cole. The one with no career, no family, no true ambition. It didn’t bother him a few months ago, but his accident shook him and caused him to step back and take a look at his life. Or lack thereof.

  For thirty years, Cole had been the fun guy. The guy you call up when you want to go out and have a good time. Always available since he had no real responsibilities. And for thirty years he’d liked it that way. Granted the first eighteen years of his life his lack of responsibilities weren’t due to laziness. He played three sports every year in school—football, basketball and baseball—and worked on the farm in the summer.

  But when his twin headed to Tufts to major in computer science, Cole headed to the University of New Hamps
hire and majored in partying. Four years and four majors later, he graduated with a degree in horticulture. Nothing wrong with that if he actually did anything with his degree. Instead, he worked on building his social network.

  And irony of all ironies, his degree in partying led him to where he was today, finally able to use his horticulture degree. He had a few good ideas about how to make the farm grow and, of course, make more money, but he still felt like a total loser.

  Cole finished spreading a layer of hay in the last stall and checked the water buckets. Another thing that took up a good portion of his week was exercising the horses. The older ones were happy roaming in the fields, but the young, spry animals needed vigorous exercise per the contract he signed with many of the horse owners.

  Emma came by a few times a week to ride, but her trips were shorter now that she and Mason were living together and planning a wedding. Soon they’d have their own herd of kids to keep up with, and Cole would be left high and dry at the farm again.

  Which was totally okay with him. Anytime he wanted to go out all he had to do was scroll through his cell and dial a buddy or hang out at one of the bars and find a woman he knew, or wanted to get to know.

  But the only woman he wanted was completely off-limits. She’d made that perfectly clear. Sam completely shut down when he touched her—barely touched her—and her whole demeanor changed from friendly co-worker to “just tell me what to do and get me the hell out of here” the moment he neared the line. There’d been a flash of something in her eyes and for a moment he thought she’d give in and let nature take its course. Of all the damn luck, he’d not only quit drinking, but he pined for a woman way out of his league.

  They’d only known each other for a week, but in that time he looked forward to their conversations and working relationship. She made him laugh and forget the mistakes of his past and looked at him as if he’d been worth more than a fly on a pile of horse manure.

  Stomping the frozen dirt off his boots, Cole blew out his cheeks and contemplated calling Sam. He hadn’t heard from her in over a week. Surely one of the tenants would have called by now. The forecast called for negative degree temps tonight, and Mrs. Willard always panicked about her drafty windows.

  Maybe he’d swing by the hardware store and pick up some weatherproofing window wrap. Then he’d check on Sam to see if she needed a hand weatherproofing her own camp. The little place on Moose Pond hadn’t been lived in for years and was surely going to need some sealing around the doors and windows.

  He didn’t see too much of the place last week at dinner, but he inspected the camp four or so years ago when it went up on the market. Tiny and run-down but with a view worth every dime, the two-bedroom camp would have made the perfect bachelor pad or fishing cabin. Unfortunately he didn’t have the cash to put down on the place. If he remembered correctly, a man from Connecticut bought it as an investment or fixer-upper.

  Cole wondered if he sold it to Sam, or if the guy from the burbs was her husband. Or boyfriend. She never mentioned being married but said Levi’s father was dead.

  And if he was up here four years ago to buy the place and Levi was four, that meant, “Shit,” he muttered to himself. Her husband must have died right before or after the boy was born. He cursed again and crouched down to unlace his boots.

  “Do not get involved with this one.” He sighed. Cole didn’t do commitments and Sam had “commitment” written all over her forehead. He’d be the perfect gentleman and employer. Hell, he’d take her under his wing, make her an honorary sister, and protect her with all he had. On the exterior, she exuded sheer strength but the woman had to be as delicate as his mother’s fine china on the inside.

  Damn if Cole would let anyone break her. But damn if he’d think of her as a sister.

  * * * *

  “Your beauty makes the morning sun look like the dull glimmer of the moon.” Cole picked up Mrs. Willard’s hand and kissed her knuckles.

  “You coy thing.” She giggled.

  “I came by to do your windows, but if you’re cold at night, you could use me as a blanket.” He winked and the woman fifty years his senior blushed.

  “Your girl came by two days ago and did all my windows,” Mrs. Willard said as she pulled Cole’s coat down his arms. “Thought she was a crazy girl comin’ to rob me, I did. She ain’t nothin’ but a tiny thing, and there she is hauling in bags of shrink wrap and firing off that heavy staple gun machine.” She led Cole to a kitchen that was over crowded with knickknacks, but the smell and sight of cookies on the counter clouded his vision of the unicorns, fairies, and angels on the walls.

  “Those oatmeal raisin?”

  “Why Cole Tucker, is there any other kind of cookie that is as good as my oatmeal raisin?”

  “No, ma’am.”

  She hustled about the kitchen, grabbing a chipped plate from the cabinet and filling it with cookies. She found a glass and poured it with milk. “Here, young man. You need to put some more meat on those bones.”

  “Thank you, Mrs. Willard.”

  “And your friend there, Samantha, she’s a bitty thing. Only ate one cookie. Can you believe it? Didn’t stop working for three hours, puttering around here fixing light bulbs, checking my faucet. Doesn’t seem right a pretty girl like that doing man’s work. How well do you know her, Cole?” She asked as she slipped three more cookies on his plate. “You don’t think she was trying to steal anything from me? My fairy collection is quite known around here, you know.”

  Cole bit back a grin. “I know her well enough. She’s a hard worker and as honest as they come. I doubt you’re missing a single fairy.”

  “Seems odd that the girl came by without me even calling her.”

  “Really?” She must have read through the binder pretty thoroughly and saw the frequent phone calls Mrs. Willard makes during the winter months.

  After eating all the cookies his stomach could hold—he didn’t want to be rude—he kissed Mrs. Willard on the cheek and promised to be back real soon.

  The next stop wouldn’t end with a kiss on the cheek and a promise to visit again, but he looked forward to it all the same.

  Batman answered the door this time.

  “I saw the bat signal in the sky. Did you catch the bad guys?” Cole asked as he crouched to Levi’s level.

  “Bad guys are called villains. The Joker is a bad guy. And Sandman too. I watch-ed Star Wars last night and saw more bad guys. Dark Vader and a real ugly guy. But then my mommy made me turn it off ’cause they were being mean.”

  “Yeah, Darth Vader can be pretty mean. What’s Batman been up to today?”

  “Levi! I’ve told you a hundred times not to open the door without asking me first,” Sam scolded.

  “But I saw Mr….um, what’s your name again?” He turned to Cole.

  “Tucker. Mr. Tucker but you can call me—”

  “Mr. Tucker,” Sam interrupted.

  She clearly wasn’t thrilled to see him; although he had no idea why.

  Cole stood and smiled at her. “You visited Mrs. Willard already. She raved about the work you did around the place.”

  “Really?” She put her hands on her lean hips. “The entire time I was there she followed me around or snooped on me like I was some hardened criminal. And she kept threatening to call you. I told her who I was, but she didn’t seem convinced. Did she call you and ask you to inspect my work? Did I do something wrong?”

  “Easy now.” He put his hands up to defend himself, enjoying the color filling her cheeks. “I’m not complaining. I’m impressed. Normally I get three or four calls before I make it over. Seems like she knows when I’m up to my neck in horse sh—” Cole’s gaze twitched toward Batman and he grimaced. “Stuff, and then expects me to drop everything and come running.”

  “Well, she likes you an awful lot,” Sam muttered.

  Cole smiled. “Well, who wouldn’t? Right, Batman?” He ruffled Levi’s head and slid himself past Sam and into the living room. She still stood
at the door, her attempt to not let him in failed. “I brought over some extra winterizing supplies. Figured you could use some around here as well, and by the looks of it, you’ve been pretty busy with the properties. I stopped by the house on Main and Oak Street, and you’ve already been there as well.”

  She looked at him with skeptical eyes. “This is what you hired me to do, right?”

  “Yeah, sure as he…heck yeah.” He made himself comfortable on the navy couch and unbuttoned his coat, making it clear he planned on staying awhile. Sam eased away from the front door and rolled into the gracious hostess mode.

  “Would you like coffee? Or water? I don’t have much to offer, I’m in the middle of preparing dinner.”

  “Coffee would be great. It’s cold out there.” He over-dramatized a shudder and turned his attention to the Batman clad Levi. “Which villain did you capture today?”

  “Mr. Freeze. That’s why it’s so cold outside. Do you want to play with me?”

  “Levi, Mr. Tucker doesn’t—”

  “Absolutely! I thought you’d never ask. Can I be Iron Man though? I always wanted a car like Tony Stark’s.”

  “Who is Tony Stark?” Levi asked as he sat next to Cole on the couch and handed him a Batmobile.

  “Tony Stark is Iron Man. Have you seen the movie yet?” Levi shook his head. “Oh dude, you gotta see it. If your mother says it’s okay, I’ll bring it over sometime.”

  Right on cue, his mother came back with a steaming cup of coffee.

  “Black, right? And what movie are you bringing over?” She sat on the arm of a lazy boy in the corner, obviously not sure of Cole’s intent.

  “Iron Man. Just another superhero to add to Levi’s collection.”

  “He has an Iron Man action hero, but I don’t think the movie is appropriate for a four-year-old.”

  “Mommy,” Levi moaned as Cole said, “Please?”

  She raised an eyebrow that Levi obviously read as a clue to be quiet, but Cole wasn’t privy to her evil eye. “How about you and I preview it first to see if it’s okay for him to watch?” It came out of his mouth before he could hit the backspace bar. His intention in coming over here was not to set up a date with Sam. He really needed to check on her and the job and the properties and make sure everything was okay. Damn. Foot. Mouth. Insert here.