If for Any Reason (Nantucket Love Story #1) - Courtney Walsh Page 0,43
warmed into a familiar smile. “You wouldn’t be you if you weren’t nosy.”
“Ha-ha.” She rolled her eyes, but secretly, she was thankful for the ease of tension between them.
“So is this guy a contractor?” Hollis had probably been stalking her house with a pair of binoculars the entire time Jack was there.
“He’s an investment banker,” Emily said.
Hollis only stared.
“Look, he’s nice. He said he gets bored easily and needs a summer project.” Emily was losing confidence. “And he was the only one who called me back.”
“Emily—” Hollis was about to say something sensible; Emily could hear it in his tone.
She cut him off before he could go on. “The goal is to get it on the market and sell it as quickly as possible.” The sooner I can get out of here and put this all behind me, the better.
Hollis looked away. “Maybe you’ll want to keep it.”
“I would never keep it,” she said. “It’s not practical.”
“Why?”
“Because I don’t want a house, Hollis.” Was the third degree payback for bringing up baseball?
“It’s a summer home,” he said. “You wouldn’t have to live there year-round.”
“I don’t want a home here at all,” she said quickly. Not that I could afford it.
Seconds ticked by and Hollis held on to her gaze, and for a moment, it was as if every fear she’d buried were on her face—and Hollis could see it all.
“So glad you could join us today, Emily.” Nan had reemerged from the cottage with another armload. “You’ve been hiding away over there all week—it’ll be good for you to get out in the sunshine.” She smiled.
“Thanks for inviting me,” Emily said.
Hollis finally released her from his eye prison and took the stack of towels his mother was holding, then loaded them into the car without a word as Nan raced off to fuss over something in the other car. Emily tried not to notice the muscles in his arms—even his forearms were well-defined. Who had muscles in their forearms? Baseball players, that’s who. Emily found it terribly distracting.
So far, retirement had done nothing to harm his physique.
“I can help,” Hollis said without looking at her.
Emily frowned. “With what?”
“The house.”
“Not this again.” Was his goal to keep her under his watchful eye until she was ready to leave the island for good?
“Why not?”
“It’s a silly idea.” She looked away.
“Why?”
She searched her mind for any practical-sounding reason and came up empty until she heard Jolie chatting in the house behind her. “You should spend the summer with your daughter.”
“I am spending the summer with my daughter.” There was an edge to his voice. “But I’m guessing she wants to do more than hang around with me for the next three weeks.”
Did she? Maybe all she really wanted to do was get to know her dad. Couldn’t he understand that?
“Besides, I hate to break it to you, but putting a crew together this late in the season isn’t going to be easy.”
“Late?” Emily felt her pulse quicken. “It’s barely summer.”
“People line up their summer help months in advance. Most of the really good workers are already booked—are you sure this guy is legit?”
Emily screwed her eyes shut and pinched the bridge of her nose. No, she wasn’t sure. She’d been moderately concerned about Jack Walker being a serial killer, but she’d never considered he might not actually be able to get the job done.
But Hollis had her mind spinning.
Emily inhaled a deep breath and gathered herself. “Jack was going to make some calls. He’s supposed to start Monday. If he doesn’t have enough help, then we can talk about me hiring your family.”
“Hiring us? Emily—”
But Jolie cut him off. “Found it!” she called out, handing the bottle to her dad, then turning to face Emily. “You’re riding with us. There’s no room in the other car.”
Emily turned her full attention to the girl. “Sounds great to me.”
But it didn’t sound great. So far, nearly every interaction she’d had with Hollis had been filled with tension. How was she supposed to hold it together when he seemed able to slice through her pretense with a single glance?
They all loaded into two vehicles and made their way from the house to the Town Pier, where Hollis said a guy he knew would be picking them up in a Boston Whaler.
“That’s a nice boat,” Emily said.
Hollis quirked an eyebrow as if to challenge her—did she really know what a Boston Whaler was?
“I’ve spent a lot of years by the ocean,” she said.