Read Online It's a Wonderful Wife by Janet Chapman - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Janet Chapman
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would appear she knew him better than he knew himself. He hadnât even realized what heâd been looking for when heâd asked Stanley Kerr to design him a home that would instill lasting memories in children rather than impress adults.
Jesse looked down at her sketch of the room magically rising up from what should be solid granite, and wondered if Stanley didnât have Cadi sit in on his meetings with clients so he could tap some of her own obvious creativity.
Had Owen Glace realized his daughterâs talent and done the same?
Jesse turned the page and read the notes sheâd made.
Exactly how many kids in a passel, anyway?
One clubhouse for girls and one for boys, or a single hideaway with separate wings?
Hidden? Or a towering, impenetrable fortress?
Jesse couldnât stifle a snort. Apparently the woman felt that even after shelling out several lifetimes of salaries on the main house, he should still have enough money left to build his kids an elaborate clubhouseâor twoâcomplete with moving walls and rising rooms.
But then, what does true creativity care about costs? Jesse glanced toward the stairs leading to the bedroom, then pulled the pencil out of the notebookâs spine and turned the page.
Iâm thinking a passel is at least four kids, not counting cousins.
Definitely two clubhouses, if only to keep the peace.
Boysâ should be hidden.
Girlsâ should definitely be impenetrable, with Dad having the only key once theyâre teenagers. (Isnât Maine known for its pink granite? That would make a girly fortress.)
Preferably situated at opposite ends of the islandâagain, to keep the peace.
He studied what heâd written, then added:
No television or electronics except for an intercom to the main house.
He thought for a minute, then tacked on:
Plumbing, though, so they donât have to keep running home to use the bathroom. At least in the girlsâ towering pink fortress; the boys can whiz in the woods.
Jesse closed the notebook and slipped the pencil back in the spine, then slid it out of the way. He then spent a full minute wrestling the chicken container open and ten minutes stuffing his face before he felt his eyelids growing heavy. He carried his mess to the kitchen sink, washed his hands, and put everything in the fridge. He grabbed the notebook off the table, quietly walked to the bedroom, then carefully leaned over his softly snoring stowaway and tucked the book beside her.
But seeing her cell phone peeking from a pocket on the purse, he gently pulled it out, then powered it on as he walked to the bathroom. Figuring he wasnât doing anything Miss Snoop wouldnât do if given the chance, Jesse pulled out his own cell phone while hers booted up, then opened his contacts. Relieved but not really surprised that Cadi didnât have password protection, he went into her settings, found her number, and added it to his phone. And to be fair, he added his contact info to her phone so it would show on her screen when he called to see how she was doing in . . . well, a gentleman would probably wait at least two weeks before beginning his pursuit in earnest, but Jesse gave himself four daysâfive, topsâbefore he caved in and called.
He returned to the bedroom and slipped the phone back in her purse, then just stood there grinning down at her. Damn, she looked soft and inviting and . . . vulnerable. The lady might think sheâd gotten to know him over the course of building his house one wall and window at a time, but heâd learned quite a bit about her just todayâwhich is also why he wasnât surprised sheâd helped herself to his bed. Oh yeah; despite her boast that sheâd had
lots
of boyfriends in college, Cadi Glace was an innocent. She was also way too trusting for his peace of mind.
Regretting that he couldnât join the real-life Goldilocks sleeping in his bed, Jesse lifted the corner
Jesse looked down at her sketch of the room magically rising up from what should be solid granite, and wondered if Stanley didnât have Cadi sit in on his meetings with clients so he could tap some of her own obvious creativity.
Had Owen Glace realized his daughterâs talent and done the same?
Jesse turned the page and read the notes sheâd made.
Exactly how many kids in a passel, anyway?
One clubhouse for girls and one for boys, or a single hideaway with separate wings?
Hidden? Or a towering, impenetrable fortress?
Jesse couldnât stifle a snort. Apparently the woman felt that even after shelling out several lifetimes of salaries on the main house, he should still have enough money left to build his kids an elaborate clubhouseâor twoâcomplete with moving walls and rising rooms.
But then, what does true creativity care about costs? Jesse glanced toward the stairs leading to the bedroom, then pulled the pencil out of the notebookâs spine and turned the page.
Iâm thinking a passel is at least four kids, not counting cousins.
Definitely two clubhouses, if only to keep the peace.
Boysâ should be hidden.
Girlsâ should definitely be impenetrable, with Dad having the only key once theyâre teenagers. (Isnât Maine known for its pink granite? That would make a girly fortress.)
Preferably situated at opposite ends of the islandâagain, to keep the peace.
He studied what heâd written, then added:
No television or electronics except for an intercom to the main house.
He thought for a minute, then tacked on:
Plumbing, though, so they donât have to keep running home to use the bathroom. At least in the girlsâ towering pink fortress; the boys can whiz in the woods.
Jesse closed the notebook and slipped the pencil back in the spine, then slid it out of the way. He then spent a full minute wrestling the chicken container open and ten minutes stuffing his face before he felt his eyelids growing heavy. He carried his mess to the kitchen sink, washed his hands, and put everything in the fridge. He grabbed the notebook off the table, quietly walked to the bedroom, then carefully leaned over his softly snoring stowaway and tucked the book beside her.
But seeing her cell phone peeking from a pocket on the purse, he gently pulled it out, then powered it on as he walked to the bathroom. Figuring he wasnât doing anything Miss Snoop wouldnât do if given the chance, Jesse pulled out his own cell phone while hers booted up, then opened his contacts. Relieved but not really surprised that Cadi didnât have password protection, he went into her settings, found her number, and added it to his phone. And to be fair, he added his contact info to her phone so it would show on her screen when he called to see how she was doing in . . . well, a gentleman would probably wait at least two weeks before beginning his pursuit in earnest, but Jesse gave himself four daysâfive, topsâbefore he caved in and called.
He returned to the bedroom and slipped the phone back in her purse, then just stood there grinning down at her. Damn, she looked soft and inviting and . . . vulnerable. The lady might think sheâd gotten to know him over the course of building his house one wall and window at a time, but heâd learned quite a bit about her just todayâwhich is also why he wasnât surprised sheâd helped herself to his bed. Oh yeah; despite her boast that sheâd had
lots
of boyfriends in college, Cadi Glace was an innocent. She was also way too trusting for his peace of mind.
Regretting that he couldnât join the real-life Goldilocks sleeping in his bed, Jesse lifted the corner
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