A Kiss to Build a Dream On Read Free Page A

eyebrow. For some reason, the motion sent a shiver through her.
    “Sounds expensive,” he said.
    Willa squared her shoulders. “It will be elegant. Lovely. ”
    “Suit yourself,” he said, his eyes returning to his notebook.
    Willa had the distinct impression he wasn’t convinced. Which was fine, she supposed. She needed a contractor, not a consultant.
    “There are a few outdoor issues as well as indoor,” she said, pressing forward with her project list. “Some rotted wood on the front porch, though I’m not sure—”
    Burk held up his hand. “No need to go into any of that yet.”
    Willa blinked. She wasn’t used to being shut down like this by anyone, much less Burk. In high school, he had once driven to the next town over for ice cream when it turned out that White Pine’s own Lumberjack Grocery was out of rocky road, her favorite. She would have settled for vanilla, but Burk told her she deserved to have what she really wanted. When he came back with the rocky road, she kissed him so hard that they wound up entwined together for hours, and the ice cream had melted into a puddle on the counter.
    “You under a deadline?” he asked, jarring her back to the here and now.
    “Not strictly. Certainly the sooner the bett—”
    “Well, I’m always on deadline. And I like to finish projects quickly. If I take this on, I’ll be at the site often. No screwing around. If I’m in your way, that’s just part of it. I aim to get it done fast. And right. Will that be a problem?”
    Willa sat back, shocked by his tone. She suddenly debated hitting the yellow pages, maybe trying to find someone else to do the work. But if it had been Burk caring for the house all these years, then he’d know it better than anyone. It would only make sense to keep him on the job.
    “No,” she replied.
    He scratched something on his notepad, then shoved it back into his flannel pocket. When his eyes met hers again, she thought she saw a softness there—a spark of kindness. Her heart fluttered in anticipation. He was going to tell her how good it was to see her, and that it made sense for them to collaborate on this project together. Finally.
    Instead, he stood up. “We’ll get started tomorrow. Eight o’clock sharp. I was late today, but it’s only because my truck wouldn’t start. That’s the exception, not the rule.”
    Willa pressed her lips together, more disappointed than she wanted to admit at his gruff manner. It shouldn’t matter to her whether Burk Olmstead was glad to see her. She didn’t need him to be nice to her, for heaven’s sake. All that mattered was that he was willing to work on the house.
    Or so she thought until he gave her a small smile. Instantly, her breath caught. She leaned forward, tensing with an inexplicable desire to hear him say how glad he was to have her back in White Pine again.
    “You have melted cheese on your upper lip,” he said instead.
    Willa raked her napkin over her mouth, her cheeks flaming with embarrassment as he strode out of the diner. As she heard the cowbell clunk over the door, she suddenly wanted nothing more than to be back in New York, breathing in the dense air of the city as she threaded her way down packed sidewalks, past galleries and shops and restaurants where she could pop in and get sushi anytime she wanted. She rubbed her forehead, knowing that if she asked for an eel roll here, they’d probably send her down to the Birch River with a pole.
    Taking a breath, Willa flattened her palms on the table’s slick wood top. Two days in, and she already wanted to flee Minnesota. It wasn’t a good sign, that was for sure, but New York was in the past. She was going to have to make White Pine work now. She was going to have to make her bed-and-breakfast work, for that matter.
    She paid the bill, marveling at how little her meal cost and at how the waitress, Cindi, had dotted her i with a heart on the handwritten ticket.
    People like Cindi-with-a-heart needed what she