That Holiday Feeling (Virgin River #8)(44)

Oh, well, this was her job, not his, she thought with a sigh. And a man she barely knew was hardly in a position to disappoint her.

Besides, the painting was going very well, she decided, as she stood back and surveyed the room. There was an elegance and warmth to the result. Once the finishing touches were in place—probably after she could hit the January white sales at the Boston department stores—it would be perfect.

Satisfied, she snapped the lid back on the can of paint and prepared to move on to another room, the one she thought of as the blue room, though at the moment it had faded wallpaper that needed to be stripped. It was already late afternoon, so she probably wouldn’t get much of the stripping completed before they left for the caroling in town, but any progress on the messy task was better than none.

She was about to peel off her first chunk of paper when something that sounded a lot like a big-time power tool kicked on downstairs, followed by a muttered curse, then giggles and deep, booming laughter. Savannah went to the top of the stairs and looked down just in time to see Hannah and Trace cast a furtive look in her direction.

“Uh-oh, we’re busted,” Trace said.

“If she heard you cussing, she’ll probably send us to our rooms,” Hannah said, looking downcast.

Hands on hips, Savannah scowled at them. “What are you two doing?”

“Nothing bad, Mom. Honest.” Hannah’s expression was filled with sincerity.

“Trace?”

“She’s right. It’s just a little surprise,” he said.

Savannah remained skeptical. “, or a shock?”

Hannah giggled. “Mom’s not real good with surprises.”

“Maybe because I’ve had so many bad ones,” Savannah said. “By the way, I’m not hearing any reassuring explanations. Do I need to come down there?”

“No,” they both said at once.

The quick chorus only roused her suspicions further. She started down the steps, only to have Trace take the bottom steps two at a time and meet her when she was less than halfway down. Putting both hands on her shoulders, he gazed into her eyes.

“Do you trust me?” he asked.

Now there was a sixty-four-thousand-dollar question. “I suppose,” she said, hedging. Only Mae’s faith in him was giving him her current benefit of the doubt.

“Well, you can,” he said, clearly disappointed by the less than wholehearted response. “You need to go back to whatever you were doing and let Hannah and me finish up what we’re doing.”

She returned his gaze without blinking. “I was thinking of quitting for the day, maybe coming downstairs for a snack.”

“I’ll bring you a snack,” he said at once. “Anything you want.”

“An entire pint of your ice cream?”

“If that’s what you want,” he said at once.

“Okay, that’s it. Something bad is going on down there, isn’t it?” she said, trying to brush past him.

“Mom, please,” Hannah wailed. “You’ll spoil everything. It’s not bad. I promise.”

Savannah told herself that it was her daughter’s plea, not the pleading expression in Trace’s eyes that won her over. “You can’t keep me up here forever, you know.”

“Just another couple of hours,” he said, looking relieved. “Still want that ice cream?”

“No, that was just a test.”

He grinned. “I figured as much.”

Savannah sighed. “I’m going back to strip wallpaper.”

“Maybe you ought to take a break,” he suggested. “Maybe take a long, leisurely bubble bath or something.”

“Who has time for that?” Savannah grumbled. “This place isn’t going to get fixed up by itself.”

He tucked a finger under her chin. “When you start saying things like that, it’s exactly the time when you need a break the most.”

“This from a workaholic like you?” she scoffed.

“Actually that’s something your aunt used to say to me every time I protested that I couldn’t get away from the office to come visit. It got me up here every time,” he said, an unmistakable hint of nostalgia in his voice. “And she was always right. I always felt better after a few days with her. I even got so I barely cracked open my briefcase the whole time I was here.”

“Did she talk you into taking a bubble bath, too?” Savannah teased.

“Nope, but you probably could,” he retorted, then added in an undertone, “especially if you were joining me.”

Heat and desire shot through Savannah like a bolt of lightning. “Any bubble bath I take, I’ll be taking alone,” she told him, keeping her own voice muted.

“Too bad.”

Before she made the fatal mistake of agreeing with him, she whirled around and went back upstairs. She started toward the room where she’d been about to work, then changed her mind and headed another floor up to her bathroom, where she poured some lavender-scented bubble bath into the tub and turned on the water, knowing that the sound would be enough to keep Trace’s imagination stirred up. He wasn’t the only one under this roof who had a wicked streak, she thought with satisfaction as she sank into the warm water. Hers had just been on hold for a while.