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Worth Fighting For (Hope Harbor Book 4) Page 6
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“No, let me. My room is that way. You have a good night’s sleep, Mia.” He stared into her eyes but couldn’t move away. He wanted to savor the closeness for as long as possible.
“Thanks for today, Matt. I really enjoyed it.” She touched him on the arm and smiled. “And that fish was amazing—one of the best dinners I’ve had for ages. You don’t get takeout like that in Seattle.”
He’d bet she ate more frozen meals than anyone he knew. It made him want to cook for her more. “Arlo will be pleased. But you can tell him when you see him on the weekend.” He moved to the counter and picked up the flashlight he’d put there for her earlier.
“Just in case. The storms on the island can get pretty fierce. Call me if you’re scared.”
“Thanks. Night.”
She headed up the stairs and Matt stood where he was until she shut her bedroom door. Then he banked the fire, made sure the screen was in place and headed to the kitchen. Once the glasses were in the dishwasher, he turned it on and headed to his room, which was tucked off the back of the kitchen. When they’d renovated the old house, the servants’ quarters had seemed like the perfect bachelor pad for him. He had his own bathroom and a large enough bedroom. Plus, it was close to his favorite room, the kitchen.
Matt pulled his shirt over his head and threw it on the chair in the corner of the room. What Arlo had said was digging at him. He really did like Mia but they weren’t well suited. It wouldn’t work. Couldn’t work. Not with her being who she was and the position she was in. She was a company mogul who lived and breathed work and he was a small town B&B owner who wanted a wife, kids and a happy life.
Hilary’s move had been easier because everything she did was possible on her computer so long as she had internet access. Not so with Mia’s job. She had to be on site, visiting stores and doing buying trips from what she’d told him over dinner. Everything that went into the stores was personally chosen by her. And it was obvious that she loved doing it too. That would hardly work if she stayed here with him.
But he was getting ahead of himself. He wasn’t even sure of his feelings toward Mia and yet there he was, already dreaming of the future. They hadn’t shared a kiss or a romantic word and he was thinking of how she could live here and continue her work. Slow down, Matt, before you dig yourself into an emotional hole you can’t get out of.
* * *
Mia turned down her bed and walked into the bathroom to brush her teeth. Matt was the perfect host and despite her initial reaction, she was starting to enjoy being here. She pulled her hair back, then washed her face, started her nightly cleaning routine of toning and moisturizing, and let her mind wander.
The longer she was there, the more she found she was enjoying herself. The company was good. Better than good actually. If things were different, she could be interested in someone like Matt. He was a nice guy, kind and considerate. Handsome too. He already seemed impressed with what she did, based on having listened to him talk about her interviews and blogs. He was concerned that she was well looked after, which was lovely compared to how she lived now. She could do worse than fall for a sweet guy like Matt.
Once Mia was finished, she flicked off the bathroom light. Her flashlight was on the nightstand in case she needed it but the darkness didn’t scare her. She enjoyed a good storm, especially from the safety of her own room.
She opened the drapes and looked out at the view. The darkness swallowed everything, even the moon. The wind whistled around the trees and up the street. The chimes in the back garden tinkled madly, like an organ grinder going crazy. She climbed into bed and lay back, listening to the howling outside and, for the first time in forever, felt comfortable.
Was it the island life, the break from her crazy ridiculous schedule? Or was it the man with the gorgeous warm brown eyes that seemed to see her—the real her. Not the homewares mogul but the woman she could be.
As the wind rattled the glass panes, Mia snuggled under the blanket and closed her eyes as the first bolt of lightning lit up the room. She decided to watch the light show for a little while before going to sleep. Storms had never scared her. Emotions, on the other hand, were a different matter. She had no idea how to handle them. Eventually she couldn’t keep her eyes open and let her mind wander off as she drifted off to sleep.
When she woke the following morning, the air was still, the sky was clear, and the sun was bright. During the night, the storm had blown itself out.
Over breakfast, she offered to help Matt in the attic. “If you’re only going to clean it out and use it, fine, I can help move stuff. But perhaps you’d like to vamp it up a little, make it into a gorgeous usable space. Seriously, that’s my thing.” She gave him what she hoped was an encouraging smile. “At least let me have a look and see what I think. Nobody said you have to take my advice. You can ignore me or you can let me help.”
“If you’re sure. I don’t want to take up your time.”
She shook her head. “Seriously. Listen to you. I don’t have anything to do and I’d be honored to have my say. It’s been a while since I actually got to design or decorate anything. Even my shop fronts are all the same, which is easy for set up and stock control but boring now I think of it.” She screwed up her face. That didn’t sound good to her. It sounded downright mundane. Might be time for a switch up when she got back to work.
Matt put down his cutlery and wiped his mouth with a napkin. “Cool. After breakfast, I’m all yours.”
An hour later, Mia stood amongst the pile of boxes and glanced around the space. “This is gorgeous. So much potential up here.” She ran her fingers over the wallboards, imagining how they would look after they refurbished them. Shiplap was one of her favorite things. “These are fabulous. I adore old timber with a fresh touch of paint. I can just see the room coming to life.”
She stood at the window, taking her fill of the view. Then she turned back to Matt. “This window screams for someone to sit here and stare out, don’t you think?”
“I think that’s a brilliant idea. But”—he pointed at the boxes—“before we can make it nice, we have to empty this lot out.”
“Easy. Won’t take us more than a couple of hours.”
Matt stood beside her, a look of disgust on his face as he surveyed the mess. “You think?”
She nodded, warming up to the idea of renovating the space. It was what she needed to do—to get her hands dirty and put in the work herself. It would also give her time to think about what Matt had said about doing other things. Perfect timing, in her mind. “Yep, I do. Let’s get started and before you know it, it’ll be done.”
“Sure. I’ll get a dolly and we can take it all down to the garage. I can sort through it later. Or not.”
Mia lifted a cardboard flap. “What’s in these boxes anyway?”
“Family stuff nobody can bear to throw away.” He paused as she pulled out a school yearbook from the first box. “Dad did a big reno job a few years back and wanted to get rid of it all and tried to get us kids to take what was our stuff. Nobody else put their hand up to take it, so I did. Couldn’t bear the idea of it all going to the dump. Now I’m kind of regretting it.”
She crouched down and had a quick look in another box. A pile of very old children’s books were stacked in tight. “We might be able to use some of these for decorating.”
“Have at it. You can use anything you like.” He walked over to the door. “I’ll grab a dolly and be right back.”
* * *
Three hours later, Matt wiped his forehead. He was exhausted from all the trips up and down to the attic. All the boxes were in the garage and the attic was clear. He stood in the middle of the room with Mia as she gave him ideas.
“First, I’d shiplap the end walls for texture so they match the ceiling. Paint the whole room white to brighten it up. Rip up the old carpet. I’m guessing the wooden boards underneath are in good shape, like the rest of the house. If they are, polish them. If not, lay new flooring.”
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nbsp; “But that will make it noisy up here.”
She shook her head. “No it won’t. Rugs. I have just the perfect ones in my shop. Nice and thick and luxurious. They’d look amazing in here. I can order some to be shipped over on Monday.”
Her enthusiasm was starting to get to him. If only she knew how gorgeous she was with that smile lighting her face. Watching her get excited over the attic made him hopeful that there could be something between them. For now, he was loving the change in her since she’d arrived on the island. Matt was going to make the most of her happy mood and willingness to help him out. “Furniture?”
Mia stepped to the far side of the attic. “I’d go for two different zones in here. By that end window, I’d put in a reading nook. A couple of old leather chairs, a small table between them and lots of shelving floor to ceiling. Use some of your father’s old books. Old books are incredible to give a space instant character. Low lamps for ambience, standard ones for reading.” She turned and faced the other way, taking a couple of steps toward the dormer window. “And over here, I’d section it off with low cabinets and have a desk under this window overlooking the view. I can just imagine writers coming here for inspiration and getting more done than they thought possible. This is a gorgeous space, Matt.”
He could see it clear as day. The woman had natural talent. “You really do have the knack, don’t you?”
She blushed. “Thanks.”
“Why didn’t you go into the design business instead of the retail side of things. You’d make a killing.”
She blushed and looked down at her hands. “I thought of it but it was a lot of work. I started collecting furniture and statement pieces when I was young because my goal was to design using my own styled pieces. But I didn’t have the training, and soon I decided to see if I could be the supplier of homewares instead. It made sense to buy and sell what I loved and people seem to agree. It kind of just happened. And everything boomed from there.” She shrugged.
“Well, if you ever get sick of the shops, you can always do hands-on design. I bet people on the island would love to have you remodel for them. Lots of people are moving here for the summer and doing renovating jobs.” He folded his arms. “Heck, I’d pay you to do my place over, starting up here.”
“So you like what I suggested?” She chewed on a fingernail as she waited for him to answer.
“I love it. Now I just have to put it into practice.” He didn’t have any more guests for at least a week, so he had the time to bury himself in paint and use his basic but passable carpentry skills to get the job done.
Mia rubbed her hands together. “I’d like to help if you can stand for me to boss you around. I’m pretty intense once I start a project.”
What a bonus that would be. He’d love nothing more than to have someone of her expertise helping him. “Really? You want to help?”
“Sure.”
Matt held out his hand and took Mia’s. Her skin was warm against his, and she had a pretty flush on her cheeks. His heart skipped and he held back the shout of joy bubbling in his throat in case he scared her off. This felt like a big moment, at least from his point of view. “Accepted. And you can be as intense as you like so long as we get the job done.” He let go of her hand and jammed his in the pockets of his jeans to keep from fidgeting.
Later that afternoon, his father arrived with a trailer load of supplies. “Dad, thanks for this.”
“No problem, son. I had to pick up something from the lumberyard anyway, so it wasn’t a problem when you called and asked me to pick up your order too. Plus, I wanted to see what you have planned, and if all it took was delivering this to you, I was willing to do it.” He undid the tie-downs on the trailer and grabbed the pails of paint. “Let me help you get this upstairs and you can show me what you and that lovely lady have planned.”
Matt helped carry the goods upstairs where Mia was ripping up carpet. She had on goggles and a mask and an old tea towel on her head like a scarf. She paused when Matt walked in with his father.
She pulled off the mask and goggles and wiped a hand over her face leaving streaks of dust on her cheeks, but nothing could take away the glow of happiness on her face. “Hello.”
His father stepped forward, holding out his hand. “Hello. You must be Mia. I’m Atticus Hope. Nice to finally meet you.”
“The pleasure is mine, Mr. Hope. I have to thank you for suggesting this place to my uncle, even though I might not have appreciated it at the time. It’s working out better than I could have hoped for.”
His father laughed. “Call me Atticus. We don’t stand on formality here. And you’re more than welcome. Best place in the world to regroup as far as I’m concerned.” He glanced around and nodded his head. “So. You and Matt have this under control, I see. Tell me what your plans are.”
Mia gave his father a quick rundown of what they’d decided to do while Matt watched. She was so animated compared to when she arrived. The change of pace was obviously doing her a world of good. Matt wondered if she realized how much better she looked now than the pale, stressed out business executive who had arrived at his door. Her lips had been pinched and dark shadows had ringed her eyes. That woman was now gone, banished by fresh sea air and relaxation.
“I like it, Matt. This young lady has the perfect solution for the attic.”
“She does.” He moved forward and stood next to Mia, their shoulders touching. She didn’t move away and Matt let go of the breath he was holding. “Can’t believe it’s taken me so long to get around to doing it though.”
His father stroked his moustache and smiled. “Timing, son. Everything happens when it’s supposed to and not before.” He nodded his approval once again. “How about I help you get rid of this carpet and then we can bring those boards upstairs?”
By late afternoon, all the contents of the attic including the carpet were down in the shed and everything his father had brought over from the mainland was up in the attic. Both Mia and Matt were exhausted and filthy, while his father was only a little dusty. They sat in the kitchen holding onto cold glasses of iced tea.
“You two kids should come over to the house for dinner tonight. It’s Gigi’s turn to cook.”
Mia frowned. “Oh, I couldn’t intrude. But you go, Matt. I can look after myself.”
“Now don’t be silly, Mia. You’re more than welcome to come for dinner. Matt’s Aunt Gigi is well known for her large meals. Woman doesn’t know how to cook for two after having the whole family to look after for so long. Gets kind of lonely with nobody at home these days, so it’d be a pleasure to have you both.”
“Are you sure?” She glanced at Matt who nodded. “Okay, then. Give me time to have a shower and get rid of this grime.” She winced at the dirt under her nails.
His dad stood and stretched. “See you when you’re ready. There’s no hurry.” He tipped his chin and walked out, leaving them standing in the kitchen.
“I feel like a bit of an interloper going to your family’s for dinner and your brother’s for the baby shower. Honestly, just because I’m staying here doesn’t mean you have to drag me along to your family gatherings.”
Matt brushed it off. “Don’t be silly. I’ve told you we’re not like that on the island. Everyone will be thrilled to see you. It’s what we do, and it’ll be good to meet some of my family before the weekend when we go to the housewarming and baby shower.” His family could be over the top compared to what Mia was probably used to. “I’m heading for a shower too. See you when you’re ready. It’s only a short walk up the road. The exercise will prevent our muscles from cramping after today.”
“Slave driver.” Mia grinned as she walked away.
Chapter 8
Mia found it hard to feel like a stranger at Atticus Hope’s house. He welcomed her in, gave her a glass of wine and urged her to take a comfortable chair while his sister bustled around the kitchen like a bright butterfly in her flowing caftan.
Matt had explained the family dynamic
s on the walk further up the hill. As predicted, when he introduced her to Gigi, Matt’s aunty greeted her with wide open arms. Mia wrapped her arms around Gigi and hung on tight as emotions she hadn’t felt for years rose up and threatened to choke her. The softness of Gigi’s cheek, the lovely way she held Mia close, the delicate and familiar perfume—it all brought tears to her eyes. It was as if the woman understood what she was missing and gave her an extra squeeze before letting her go.
Mia hadn’t had that connection with anyone since her mother passed away and it rocked her to the core. Mia made excuses about being tired and dust in her eyes and moved on, making the conversation about the renovations, not her. Something about this family made her defenses fall around her feet and left her feeling surprisingly vulnerable.
Gigi patted her on the arm and Mia resisted the urge to lean in for another hug, talking to her instead. “You’re an artist, Matt tells me.”
“Yes. I began painting when I lived in New York and slowly made a name for myself.”
“I actually have one of your paintings in our managing directors office. I didn’t connect you to Matt until he told me about you on the way here.” It seemed like fate that she’d ended up on Hope Island. Especially with such a handsome and interesting host.
A smile broke out on Gigi’s face. “Really. Which one?”
“It’s very red and orange and when I look at it I feel warm, happy too. That’s what struck me the first time I saw it, and then I couldn’t resist buying it. I can’t remember the name of it, sorry. But I can look when I get back to the office.” Mia sipped her wine and felt her shoulders relax.
Gigi waved her hand. “No bother. But it’s nice to hear you have one of my pieces.”
“Have you ever thought of mass producing them in print form?”
Gigi tilted her head. “I didn’t think that far ahead, to be honest.” She glanced over at Atticus. “Had you thought of that, Atticus?”