Read Online Stick in the Mud Meets Spontaneity (Meet Your Match, book 3) by Rachael Anderson - Free Book Online Page A

wandering through the tiny cottage. She crossed the creaky floor, opened the squeaky bedroom door, and looked inside. A queen-sized bed was covered with a worn and dusty patchwork quilt that Colton’s grandmother had made. Two simple nightstands flanked each side, leaving the rest of the room barren.
    “Quaint,” Sam said before moving on.
    The bathroom door was already open, revealing a stained, yellow tub, a toilet, and a small vanity. An ancient stacked washer and dryer unit sat in the corner.
    “No shower?” she asked.
    “That’s going to be one of the improvements I make after I move in. I don’t like baths.”
    “After a day like today, a hot bath sounds heavenly,” said Samantha. “But I couldn’t live without a shower either.”
    She peeked in a small storage closet next, opened a few of the knotty pine kitchen cupboards, ran her fingers across the time-distressed wooden table, and finally looked Colton’s way.
    “It’s charming,” she announced. “Or, at least it will be once you fix it up.”
    “You think?” They must be looking through different colored glasses, because all Colton could see were the dead critters, cobwebs and problems.
    “Yeah.” She glanced around again. “I could help, if you want.”
    His eyes snapped to hers. Did she really just offer to not go away? To do something with him that could turn into a story?
    “I do want,” he said quickly. “I mean, if you’re sure you have the time, I would love some help.”
    She waved off his concern. “I’ve got the whole summer to kill. My job doesn’t start until the fall.”
    Colton liked the sound of that—spending the entire summer with her, that is. “What job is that?”
    “A junior graphic designer,” she answered. “I’ll be creating everything from images for t-shirts to CD labels, advertisements, invitations, and brochures. I can’t wait.”
    That career choice seemed to fit her perfectly. Creative, interesting, and fun.
    She sat down on one of the two wooden dining chairs and smiled when it squeaked and swayed under her lightweight frame. “I think you could use some new furniture.”
    “Nah, I could never get rid of this stuff.” He wiggled the other chair and decided it would be safer to remain standing. “This house was built by my great-great-grandfather nearly one hundred years ago. He purchased the land from the government when Colorado Springs was nothing more than a baby. Together, with my great-great grandmother, they lived here for about five years while they got the ranch going. Then they built a larger home down the road where ours now stands. Forty years ago, my grandfather grew tired of living in a home with endless problems, but he liked the location, so he leveled the old house and built a new one in its place—where my family lives now. This house, on the other hand, still has the same walls and most of the original furniture.”
    Colton looked around him, feeling the pride that came from a long legacy of hard-working family members who had labored to make something lasting out of nothing. Even though they called this place The Shack, Colton didn’t smell the must or rotted wood. He smelled history and a really good place to call home. “When my parents first married, they modernized it with indoor plumbing and electricity and added on that bathroom and laundry area. They lived here until they had me, then moved into the big house to take care of my grandparents before they passed.”
    Sam’s finger followed the grain lines on the table, rising and falling with the waves of the distressed, warped wood. “Is that what you’re planning to do? Live here until you’re ready to move back to the big house and take over?”
    Between Colton and his brothers, one of them was expected to carry on the McCoy legacy, but for Colton, instead of feeling like a no-way-out responsibility, it felt like a privilege—the grand prize for being born a McCoy and learning what it meant to work hard. Ranching