“I’ll have to watch it, too,” he said, letting the pizza cool while pulling a couple plates from the cupboard. He walked over to set one in front of her, then reached back to switch it with his. “Sorry, that one’s chipped.”
She stayed his hand. “It’s fine. It doesn’t bother me.”
Tonight was her first time inside the farmhouse. From the outside, if one overlooked the listing roof of the front porch, the two story brick house was quite impressive. The inside was another story. Outdated. Worn. Run down. Peeling wall paper, scuffed floors, old appliances and older furniture.
Not that she cared, but Logan clearly did. He’d invited her for dinner, then seemed to regret the offer the moment they reached the house and he had to warn her about the rotting second step.
His tense expression hadn’t eased since they’d stepped through the front door.
Joy wrapped her fingers around his and pulled herself up to put her arm around his neck. She drew his head down at the same time she rose on her tiptoes to press her lips to his. “You should know by now I’m not the spoiled princess you thought I was. I’m here to spend time with you, not judge your house.”
“And yet, you’ve noticed the house.”
“Kinda hard not to when you’re so obviously uncomfortable about it.”
“Usually I don’t mind it much. I’m not in here much. But with you here, I realize how awful it all looks.”
“With all your family has been through, it’s understandable that you haven’t been able to update. At the sale, you can just tell everyone it’s retro chic.”
Thankfully, that drew a smile. “More like retro shit.”
“Don’t say that.” She pushed him away, turning to survey the large kitchen, and the dining room turned storage area beyond. “This place has a lot to offer.”
“Yeah. A lot of work.” Logan brought over some glasses and a couple sodas from the fridge, then moved back to cut the pizza.
“I’m serious. It’s got great bones. Strip and refinish the hardwood floors and they’ll be gorgeous. Then there’s the crown moldings, the fieldstone fireplace, and that carved railing going up the staircase. Not to mention the detail work around each window is unique. Once the paint is gone, and all the woodwork is stained and varnished, it’ll be amazing.”
Warming to the vision, she moved to stand in the opening between the kitchen and foyer/living room. “I’d keep all those great features and gut the rest. Open things up so if someone is cooking in here, they’re not separated from the rest of the family. And on cold winter nights, everyone could spend time together by the fire. Read, play games, snuggle.”
She let her gaze travel from right to left, envisioning the changes and wishing she’d be the one to make the house come alive again.
But she wouldn’t, so no sense indulging the fantasy. Any future she and Logan had together wouldn’t be in this house. There was no way she could even bid on it after the way he’d reacted to her going to the bank.
With a soft sigh, she put the idea away and turned back to find Logan watching her, the pizza cutter halted mid-slice. His gaze met hers, then shifted away to travel across the main floor. She imagined him picturing the revitalization. Maybe, like her, he could see them sitting by the fire together, with a couple kids…
Chapter 19
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Logan suddenly saw the house through Joy’s eyes. Not the shabby, poor version, but one where everything was new and beautiful. Her description of the family scene turned the old house into a home.
A tempting vision—
That’s going to be sold in two days.
He shook his head and abruptly turned back to their cheap dinner. It was impossible, is what it was. No sense imagining what could never be.
“Like I said, a lot of work.”
“Yeah, I know.” Resignation weighed her tone as she returned to her seat at the table. “I hope someone sees the potential.”
“Most likely, it’ll be the Persky’s bidding at the sale.” He brought the pizza over and sat, waiting for her to take a slice before sliding two hot triangles onto his plate.
“Are you going to be here for it?”
The idea of standing by while people bid on his family land—Edna and her husband, Robert, in particular—made his gut clench in protest. However, the thought of not being there for the sale of his history was just as bad. “I haven’t decided yet.”
“Do you want me to be here if you are?”