Windswept Way (Hope Harbor #9)(28)
Author: Irene Hannon

 

“. . . unless you disagree?”

 

Whoops.

 

How was she supposed to answer a question she hadn’t heard?

 

Curses on her inappropriate mind wandering.

 

“Um . . . sorry. I zoned out for a second.” She lifted her mug. “The caffeine is taking a while to kick in today.”

 

Lame—but it was all she could come up with on the fly.

 

Thankfully, he didn’t question her explanation.

 

“I was saying that I think we should widen the stone path leading to the gazebo, in case one of your brides decides to go with a Scarlett O’Hara–type dress.”

 

“Those aren’t popular anymore.”

 

“Styles could change.”

 

She wrinkled her nose. “Let’s hope hoopskirts never come back into vogue. Comfort trumps fashion in my book.”

 

He gave her long fleece sweatshirt and leggings a swift once-over and retreated a few steps. “I try to plan for all contingencies. Adjustments later can be expensive.”

 

Dollar signs flashed through her mind, helping her refocus.

 

“I’m open to any modifications that will conserve cash now or in the future, as long as they don’t impact the ambiance I’m trying to create. Here’s an alternate idea. Why don’t we forego the path entirely? As long as the grass is kept manicured in that area, a paved path shouldn’t be necessary. And a grass aisle would also give us more flexibility.” Not to mention the fact that it would save a fair number of dollars. Hardscaping didn’t come cheap. “We could always add the stone path later if I decide we need one.”

 

“That’ll work. Are you on board with my other ideas?” He lifted the schematic.

 

“I think so.” Even if she hadn’t heard all of his suggestions. But the preliminary designs he’d sent with his bid had been impressive. If he’d made adjustments, they’d been well thought out. “May I keep a copy to review again later this morning?”

 

“This one is yours.” He handed it to her as a car appeared at the entrance and crunched down the road. “That’s Kyle, my foreman. I’ll introduce you as soon as he parks. Any other questions?” Jon turned back to her.

 

Oh yeah. A dozen. None of which were appropriate or business related.

 

Like . . . what color were the eyes he hid behind those dark glasses?

 

She frowned.

 

Where on earth had that come from?

 

Dipping her head, she pretended to brush dust off her pristine leggings.

 

Who cared about his eye color? The only man’s eyes she’d ever noticed were Jason’s.

 

She snuffed out an image of the baby blues that had sucked her in and spit her out. Gritted her teeth.

 

Jon’s eye color was of no concern to her.

 

And the tiny tingle in her nerve endings had nothing to do with attraction.

 

She was done with men for the foreseeable future.

 

“No. No questions.” When Jon cocked his head at her sharper-than-intended tone, she softened it. “You were very thorough. I’m impressed with all the designs. I can tell you put a lot of thought into them.”

 

“This is a beautiful place and a plum job. It deserves an extra effort.” The car parked in the circle drive, and Jon motioned the driver over as the man opened the door and stood. “Either Kyle or I will be on-site while the work is underway here. Probably both of us, most days. But if I’m not available, don’t hesitate to speak with Kyle.”

 

As the foreman joined them, Jon did the introductions.

 

Kyle held out his hand and gripped her fingers in a firm clasp. “It’s a pleasure. Jon’s told me about you.”

 

What did that mean?

 

With most of her landscaper’s features covered, it was impossible to tell. But from the flat line of his lips as he spoke to his foreman, it was clear he didn’t appreciate the man passing along that tidbit. “You ready to work?”

 

It wasn’t a question.

 

“The crew’s not here yet.”

 

“We’ll get started without them. I want to tackle the circle garden today. Ashley, we’ll regroup at eight after BJ arrives.” Without waiting for a reply, he strode toward the front of the house.

 

Kyle watched him, his expression . . . amused?

 

Why? What had he found funny in that exchange?

 

“I guess we’re clocking in early today.” Kyle shifted toward her with a grin. “He can be a tough taskmaster. Watch out, or he’ll put you to work too.”

 

“Not happening. I have a whole list of appointments today with vendors who may be interested in recommending Edgecliff for weddings and other events. I’ll escape before I can be recruited to wield a shovel. Jon said one of the two of you would always be on-site, so if you ever need to speak with me, try the carriage house or the main house. Or call my cell.” She motioned toward the caretaker’s cottage, tucked farther back among the coniferous trees, on the fringes of the property. “That’s Rose’s domain. Consider it off-limits.”

 

“Got it. But I expect Jon will be here most days, given all the opportunities this job represents.” He hooked a thumb toward his boss. “I better get over there. When the man says it’s time to work, he expects all hands on deck.”

 

As Kyle walked away, Ashley pretended to study the new gazebo garden rendering while keeping surreptitious tabs on the two men.

 

Once Kyle reached his boss, they talked for a moment. After glancing her direction, Jon fisted his hands on his hips and leaned toward Kyle, his words too faint to hear. But Kyle’s laugh in response carried clearly in the quiet air before he walked toward the truck. A few seconds later, Jon followed.

 

Within minutes, they were hard at work marking the perimeter of the garden that would grace the center of the circle drive.

 

Ashley lingered as long as she could, but with nothing to do until BJ arrived, she had no excuse to hang around outside. The guys would think she was watching them, and earning a reputation as a micromanager wouldn’t be wise.

 

Garden rendering in hand, she returned to the new digs that were a huge upgrade from her old apartment. And the smell of fresh paint, the pristine carpet, and the spic-and-span appearance that had greeted her Saturday night were the nicest welcome Rose could have given her, as she’d told the woman during the scone delivery on Sunday.