Read Online Husband Under Construction by Karen Templeton - Free Book Online

Didn’t exactly make me want to hop online to search for cruise clothes. Now, though, things are making more sense.” She laughed again, more softly. “He listened to you, Noah. Whatever issues the two of you might have, he listened. So thank you, honey. From the bottom of my heart.”
    The coffee ready, Noah filled a mug already sitting on the counter, wincing when a single, grudging shaft of light pierced the kitchen blinds. The first hit of caffeine sent off to swim through his veins, he said, “It doesn’t bother you that it wasn’t Dad’s idea?”
    â€œAre you kidding? If left to his own devices, the man would be perfectly content going to work, coming home, eating, watching TV and sleeping. Rinse, repeat. With maturity comes the ability to be grateful for the what, and not worry so much about the how. You might have annoyed him no end, but in one conversation you pushed him further out of his comfort zone than I’ve been able to do in twenty years.”
    She rang off after that, about ten seconds before Noah’s bladder exploded and a good two, three minutes before the ramifications of his father’s actions sank in: that maybe, finally, Noah’d gotten through to the old man. That maybe, finally, he’d earned the old man’s trust.
    A smile spreading across his face, he yanked up the blinds to let in more light. His date last night had gone better than expected—enough that the prospect of meeting Roxie at Lowe’s later to hash out tile and paint selection and such wasn’t even bothering him—and his father trusted him.
    Was this going to be a great day, or what?
    Â 
    â€œWhat the hell do I know about any of this?” Charley barked. Loudly enough to make everybody in the tile aisle turn their heads. Roxie was briefly tempted to say, “I haveno idea who this guy is, never saw him before in my life.” Instead, she lugged a large square of veined slate tile off the sale pile and held it up. “This would go great with the new countertops, don’t you think?”
    Her uncle grunted, as cranky as a three-year-old who’d missed his nap. In theory, a field trip to Santa Fe to choose the decorative materials for the renovation had sounded like the perfect thing for a beautiful fall morning. In reality…not so much.
    â€œWhatever you pick out is fine,” Charley muttered. “I don’t care. Actually, why don’t I go wait in the car until you’re finished?”
    Replacing the tile before it somehow found itself shattered over the old man’s head, Roxie sighed. “Charley. It’s your house. Where you’re going to be living for a long, long time. I’d think you’d want to be in on the decision making.”
    His face set in a mulish expression, her uncle shoved his hands in his baggy khaki pockets. At least they were an improvement over the god-awful coveralls. He’d been a good-looking dude once upon a time, when he actually took pride in his appearance.
    â€œAnd why would you think that? Never did when Mae was alive, still not interested now.”
    Roxie opened her mouth to make him see reason, only to realize at this rate they’d be here until Christmas. Ten years from now.
    â€œIf you really don’t care—”
    Charley’s eyes snapped to hers, full of hope. “I really don’t.”
    â€œFine. Why don’t you wait in that Burger King we saw when I parked the car? I’ll meet you there when I’m done. But no complaints about whatever I choose!” she called to his rapidly retreating form as she fished her ringing cellphone from her purse. Noah. She told herself the funny, fluttering sensation in her midsection was a hunger pang.
    â€œJust walked through the door,” he said, damn his bone-melting voice. “Where are you?”
    â€œTile. I think I found something that could work.”
    â€œCool. Um…is that Charley headed