Yours for Christmas (Fool's Gold #15.5)(6)

Kenny got out of his SUV and started toward her. The sun had been playing peek-a-boo with some clouds, but obviously shared her fascination with the man. It slipped into view and cast warm, golden light on the object of its affection. Kenny’s hair gleamed, his smile was easy and Bailey felt her heart give a little jump of appreciation.

Even if he didn’t know anything about construction or houses or the difference between a screwdriver and a wrench, he would be a nice distraction if she started to freak out, she reminded herself.

“Nice house,” Kenny said as he approached.

“Thanks.” She waited until he stopped in front of her. “So, do you know anything about houses?”

He grinned. “Regretting your impulsive request I be here?”

“Not at all. Just wondering if my assumptions are correct.”

“That because I’m a guy, I know something about electricity and plumbing?”

“Um, yeah. That would be it.”

He put his arm around her and turned her toward the house. “I am more than a pretty face. Growing up I helped my dad with all kinds of projects. I can lay tile, replace a light fixture and repair most plumbing leaks.”

“Good to know.”

The words sounded so normal, she thought. But on the inside, there was quivering and shrieking. Mostly because of how close she was to Kenny and how warm his arm was around her body. He made her feel small and delicate. Like an ordinary woman, as opposed to the widow and single mom she’d been for the past couple of years.

Before she could do much more than breathe in the scent of him and indulge in a little PG-13 make-out fantasy, a small pickup drove into her driveway. Bailey recognized the name of the inspector her real estate agent had suggested. All thoughts of Kenny fled as the enormity of what she was doing crashed in on her.

“I want it to be perfect,” she admitted in a whisper.

“Be willing to settle for sound,” Kenny advised. “Everything else is a bonus.”

Good advice, she thought as she walked over to meet her inspector.

Paul Jennings was a man in his fifties. He was pleasant, but seemed more interested in the house than making small talk. He had a large rolling toolbox with him and began the inspection by walking around the outside of the house.

“We start from the ground up,” Mr. Jennings told her. “Foundation to roof. I’ll tell you what I find as I go, then get you a written report via email by this time tomorrow. But before I leave, you’ll already know everything I’ve found.”

“I appreciate that,” she told him.

“Then let’s get started.”

Three hours later Bailey knew more about the house she wanted to buy than she’d ever known about any other building in her life. Even better, she was comfortable with her decision. There were a couple of small problems. The chimney needed to be cleaned before she and Chloe could use it, there were three electrical outlets that didn’t work and the faucet that connected the water to the washer had lost its turny thing.

A small list of easy repairs, she thought as the older man drove away. There hadn’t been any roof leaks, the basement was dry and the furnace put out plenty of heat. Even better was the series of stickers on the side of it, showing that it had been serviced regularly.

“Feeling better?” Kenny asked as they stepped back inside.

She nodded. “Thank you so much. You were great.”

He had been. He’d let her take the lead, but had stayed close by and asked plenty of sensible questions. He’d insisted she go into the attic herself to see into the deep corners so she understood about the insulation and venting. Because of him she now knew where the water and gas shutoffs were.

“As soon as I get the inspection report, I’ll contact my real estate agent,” she said. “We’ll get a list to the seller.”

“Don’t forget about the chimney cleaning,” he told her.

“I won’t.” She glanced at the big fireplace. “I’m going to have to read an article on how to build a fire. There’s a special way, right? With twigs and regular wood?”

Kenny sighed. “It’s kindling and I’ll show you.”

“You know how to build a fire?”

“I’m a man of many talents.”

His voice was teasing and maybe a little sexy. While Bailey appreciated the thrill of her crush, right now practical Kenny was even more appealing.

“I’d like you to teach me,” she told him. “I wonder if the local hardware store has classes on basic home repairs. I don’t want to be one of those women who has a house and doesn’t know how to do anything. I should be able to learn, right?”

“It’s not hard. There are a couple of really good books on the subject. I’ll get one for you.” He winked. “Along with a set of pink tools.”

She laughed. “I’d love pink tools. One of my favorite mystery books has a heroine with pink tools.” They wandered into the kitchen. Mr. Jennings had checked all the appliances along with the drains. “My expertise is more cosmetic. I can patch and paint with the best of them, but anything behind the walls makes me nervous.”

“What do you want to do before you move in?” he asked.

“The usual. Clean, paint.” She set her large tote bag on the counter and pulled out a folder. “Chloe and I have been picking out paint colors.” She fanned the squares onto the counter. “Usually I’m a big believer in painting a sample on the wall, but the seller probably wouldn’t like that. I’ve talked to a few friends and they’re open to a couple of days of helping me out. The plan is to close on Thursday, then start the intensive patching and sanding on Friday. We’ll be painting by Saturday. The move will be Tuesday.”