Read Online Sand Castles by Antoinette Stockenberg - Free Book Online
Authors: Antoinette Stockenberg
Tags: Romance, Contemporary
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right. Zack, you and Billy can start pulling off the siding on the old outside wall. I'll be back."
Off Pete went, muttering ominously. Zack sympathized. He'd been there himself, riding herd on a crew, which is why he'd gotten out of house building and into furniture making. He was a loner by nature, skeptical of the very concept of teamwork; and besides, he'd never yet tried to call himself in sick.
The fact was, he loved having complete control of a project. Sculpting wood was one of the most satisfying highs he'd ever known. The thought that right then he had a half-carved corner chair waiting in his workshop for him to finish was almost as painful as the thought of a woman waiting in his bed for him to return and bring her to climax.
Damn. He had to get through this and get back to his real life.
He climbed through a roughed-out window onto the first floor of the addition and, while Billy went searching for a prybar, sized up the task at hand. Years ago the plastic siding had been attached over peeling clapboard, undoubtedly to save money. Big mistake. Whatever modest, New England charm the house had possessed was covered over in a mass of featureless vinyl strips that trapped moisture and encouraged rot. Hopefully the house was going to be returned to its original look.
Not that it mattered to Zack either way; he didn't plan to be there long.
Billy came back with a prybar, and together he and Zack began pulling off the siding that surrounded the two original kitchen windows. They were standing in what was going to be the family room; Billy explained that the entire outside wall they were working on would eventually come down, creating an open floor plan between the old kitchen and the new family room.
The kitchen windows were fitted with miniblinds, but these were hauled all the way up. Apparently the Hodenes weren't too shy. Sure en ough, as Zack worked, a sleepy- eyed kid came moping into the kitchen and headed for a cupboard, oblivious to the two men on the other side of the windows. Behind him came his mother, apparently fresh from a shower. Her hair hung in dark wet ringlets around her clean, shiny face, and although she'd thrown on a T-shirt over tattered jeans, her feet were still bare.
The windows were old and anything but soundproof; Zack heard every word of her motherly harangue.
" Tyler , if you think you're going to a sleepover tonight and leaving behind that sinkhole you call a room—"
"What's the difference?" the kid shot back as he took out a bowl. "The whole house is a pit."
"Maybe so, but in this pit, the laundry is clean and the dishes are done. So you just march right back up to your room and collect all the dirty plates in there, and then march right back down to the sink and wash them."
"I'll be late for school!"
'Tough. Move it."
Fists parked on shapely hips, she was focused on the confrontation, with her back to Zack and Billy. Zack had a flash of that same awareness he had when he saw her jump down from the SUV: of a woman with strength to spare and a will to match. It occurred to him that he wouldn't ever want to tangle with her. And then it occurred to him that he'd probably have no choice.
"Ma—"
"And bring your dirty clothes down, too. It smells like a beach at low tide in there. Good grief, Tyler . Shape up, will you?"
Head low, the boy slunk past her in a full-body pout. The woman turned to watch him go, and that's when she saw Zack with what had to be a fierce look of attention on his face, because she did a double take, and her cheeks flared up in a very flattering way. She marched right over to the windows and slid one of them up.
"Good morning," she said, a little tersely. It sounded exactly like, "What's it to you ?"
Zack gave her a sheepish hint of a smile and said, "Mawnin'."
"You're new here. I'm Wendy Hodene."
"Zack," he said in minimal response.
It was a weird sensation, having her talk to him through the double glass of the thrown-up window while from the
Off Pete went, muttering ominously. Zack sympathized. He'd been there himself, riding herd on a crew, which is why he'd gotten out of house building and into furniture making. He was a loner by nature, skeptical of the very concept of teamwork; and besides, he'd never yet tried to call himself in sick.
The fact was, he loved having complete control of a project. Sculpting wood was one of the most satisfying highs he'd ever known. The thought that right then he had a half-carved corner chair waiting in his workshop for him to finish was almost as painful as the thought of a woman waiting in his bed for him to return and bring her to climax.
Damn. He had to get through this and get back to his real life.
He climbed through a roughed-out window onto the first floor of the addition and, while Billy went searching for a prybar, sized up the task at hand. Years ago the plastic siding had been attached over peeling clapboard, undoubtedly to save money. Big mistake. Whatever modest, New England charm the house had possessed was covered over in a mass of featureless vinyl strips that trapped moisture and encouraged rot. Hopefully the house was going to be returned to its original look.
Not that it mattered to Zack either way; he didn't plan to be there long.
Billy came back with a prybar, and together he and Zack began pulling off the siding that surrounded the two original kitchen windows. They were standing in what was going to be the family room; Billy explained that the entire outside wall they were working on would eventually come down, creating an open floor plan between the old kitchen and the new family room.
The kitchen windows were fitted with miniblinds, but these were hauled all the way up. Apparently the Hodenes weren't too shy. Sure en ough, as Zack worked, a sleepy- eyed kid came moping into the kitchen and headed for a cupboard, oblivious to the two men on the other side of the windows. Behind him came his mother, apparently fresh from a shower. Her hair hung in dark wet ringlets around her clean, shiny face, and although she'd thrown on a T-shirt over tattered jeans, her feet were still bare.
The windows were old and anything but soundproof; Zack heard every word of her motherly harangue.
" Tyler , if you think you're going to a sleepover tonight and leaving behind that sinkhole you call a room—"
"What's the difference?" the kid shot back as he took out a bowl. "The whole house is a pit."
"Maybe so, but in this pit, the laundry is clean and the dishes are done. So you just march right back up to your room and collect all the dirty plates in there, and then march right back down to the sink and wash them."
"I'll be late for school!"
'Tough. Move it."
Fists parked on shapely hips, she was focused on the confrontation, with her back to Zack and Billy. Zack had a flash of that same awareness he had when he saw her jump down from the SUV: of a woman with strength to spare and a will to match. It occurred to him that he wouldn't ever want to tangle with her. And then it occurred to him that he'd probably have no choice.
"Ma—"
"And bring your dirty clothes down, too. It smells like a beach at low tide in there. Good grief, Tyler . Shape up, will you?"
Head low, the boy slunk past her in a full-body pout. The woman turned to watch him go, and that's when she saw Zack with what had to be a fierce look of attention on his face, because she did a double take, and her cheeks flared up in a very flattering way. She marched right over to the windows and slid one of them up.
"Good morning," she said, a little tersely. It sounded exactly like, "What's it to you ?"
Zack gave her a sheepish hint of a smile and said, "Mawnin'."
"You're new here. I'm Wendy Hodene."
"Zack," he said in minimal response.
It was a weird sensation, having her talk to him through the double glass of the thrown-up window while from the
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