Harlequin Love Inspired March 2021--Box Set 2 of 2 Patrice Lewis (i read book txt) 📖

bars. Each of those are a complete set.” She pointed behind her where several old doors leaned with cellophane bags on the doorknobs of each. “The spindles and corbels are in the bags. The plywood is over there, some already ready. The rest can be cut to fit with a router to round the edges. Are you familiar with coffee bars?”

“Just the one in your store, but I think I can envision what you have in mind.” He picked a door and went to work.

“They basically have a table with a shelf underneath the same size as the top, the corbels go under a thin shelf at the top.” She picked up a tablet, scrolled down and showed him some examples. “If you’ll assemble them, I’ll handle the primer and paint, along with the corbels for the shelf and hooks to line each side of the door to hang coffee cups. They go on last.”

“Got it.” He stood the door against the work table, took the parts and pieces she’d gathered out of the bag and lined them up along with the screws she’d supplied. “Did you come up with the idea for these?”

“I wish. I saw one in another store and tweaked the design.” Her face scrunched up as she sneezed.

“Bless you.”

“Thanks. Sometimes the dust gets to me.” She grabbed her sander, went back to work on the tub. “What type of furniture do you build for your parents’ store?”

“Anything wood.” He spoke loud enough for her to hear over the buzz of her tool. “Rocking chairs, headboards, log furniture. Their store specializes in cabin furniture.”

“Really?” Apparently satisfied with her work, she set the sander down. “There’s a store like that in Medina and one in Bandera, about fifteen minutes away. I love browsing there. How did your folks get into that?”

“My grandmother had a store similar to yours and my dad worked for her.” Ross chuckled at the memory her question brought up. “But the furniture store started when Dad found a cypress stump. He thought it would make a nice tenth anniversary gift for my mom since she likes unique pieces. He created an end table by cutting it to stand level and securing a live edge slab on top. She loved it.

“Until a month later, we were watching a movie on TV when I noticed a tiny praying mantis on my arm.” He inspected the coffee bar Maverick had built to see how the parts were attached. Looked like he’d built the table first. “Then Dad saw one on the couch and mom found one on her chair. There were eggs in the stump. The mantises had hatched and were crawling out in droves.”

“Oh no.” She shivered, obviously imagining the sea of tiny green bugs. “What did they do?”

“He set the table on the back porch for a week to make sure they’d all evacuated, then he sealed the stump.” He sank a screw to attach a spindle to the router-edged plywood that would serve as the table top. “Friends and family loved it and wanted him to build them tables, so he did. He learned to let stumps sit on the porch for at least six months before sealing them. He’d found his passion and several stores started selling his creations.

“Then one of them offered him a job in Houston, so we moved there. Eventually, the owner retired and my folks bought the business.”

The buzz of her air compressor started up and they fell into silence as they worked. Not companionable like it was when he worked with his dad. Every nerve ending he possessed was on high alert, all too aware of her presence.

* * *

True to her word, Stacia made nice in the workshop, until her head was about to explode.

She’d never appreciated the racket the compressor made, but today, it was her favorite thing. As long as the rumble filled the air, she could pretend Ross wasn’t there. Or maybe pretend to pretend. She’d been in such a tizzy about the twins, she honestly hadn’t thought a whole lot about his looks. Until Lexie had pointed it out yesterday.

His hair was longer than most cowboys, with curls flipping every which way. Paired with grass-green eyes that seemed to look straight through you. With today being the first time she’d been alone with him, the handsome cowboy was hard to ignore.

The air tank kicked off, launching them into silence. An uncomfortable silence.

With the bathtub stripped of rust, she put on a mask and handed him one. “I’ll be spraying primer, so put this on.”

He obeyed. If only the mask would cover those eyes.

“If you’ll assemble the coffee bars, I’ll do the painting.”

“I understand why you keep the doors open.”

“It gets pretty smothery in the summer, but at least we’re past the hottest days of the year.” She swiped the back of her hand over her sweaty forehead. Great, just what she needed, a great-looking guy in her workshop watching her freckles appear one by one as her makeup melted away and her hair turned into a frizzy mess.

But what did she care? He was Madison and Mason’s uncle. Her opponent, even if he was a Christian. She couldn’t afford to find him attractive. Not when she might be in for the fight of her life. No consorting with the enemy. She turned on the sprayer and focused on the bathtub.

“Smells like progress in here.” Daddy stepped in the back door. “The twins are successfully delivered on time.”

“You need a nap after that.” Stacia chuckled and stopped painting until Maverick slipped a mask on.

“No naps for the weary. Too many coffee bars to be built.”

“Morning, Maverick.” Ross set down his screwdriver. “The cattle are all fed and accounted for.”

“See, he’s paying off already.” Daddy shot her a wink, then got to work on constructing a coffee bar. “Can you paint, Ross? With a sprayer?”

“I can.”

“Another point in your favor. I’ve never mastered the sprayer. I drip more than a teething toddler.”

With Daddy in the