Jasmine knew exactly what she was doing—keeping him on his toes.
Resigning himself, he gestured for her to continue down the hall. “Everything else on this floor has been completed, except the kitchens.” He hoped. “That’s what I need to check on today.”
As they made their way down the hall, he opened various doors. She got to explore. He got to maintain forward momentum. Win-win.
Only every peek into a room elicited the same excitement as a child opening presents on Christmas morning. The first gasps jumpstarted his heart, even though he tried to ignore them—and his physical reaction.
“Are these fixtures original?” she asked.
He nodded, warming to one of his favorite subjects outside of business. He and his mother had had two things in common—antiques and cooking. Their shared interests had strengthened their bond.
“All of the fixtures are original, unless they were broken beyond repair. Some of the back rooms had busted windows and weather damage, so we had to do some extensive replacements there. Everywhere else, I had what I could refinished. Some of the electrical components had to be updated. But the feel of the original should be maintained wherever possible—”
He noticed her watching him and felt a moment of unfamiliar self-consciousness. “In my opinion,” he added. An opinion he had only shared with his contractor and his mother when she was still alive. Not only was it no one else’s business, Royce had always found himself extremely protective of projects that he was full-on enthusiastic about.
Projects that sparked his creativity and drive, instead of the logical side of his brain. Only certain people who shared that drive were let in. He wasn’t ready to let Jasmine in. These softening tendencies she inspired in him made keeping things strictly business with her an absolute must.
After what seemed like hours, they finally made it to the kitchen. Jasmine took herself off to pepper the workers with questions while Royce checked in with the foreman. He almost laughed at how short and to the point their discussion was, compared to the last hour with Jasmine. He had a feeling he would hole up in his office when he got back and communicate only by email. He’d used up his allotment of spoken words for the day.
It wasn’t until they were on their way back out that Royce’s relief was busted.
Jasmine’s frequent glances warned him something was up. It didn’t take her long to get to the point.
“One of the workers said your mother lived here.”
Ah. Well, it wasn’t like he’d told them to keep it a secret. “Yes. She lived in the carriage house for a few years before she died.”
“I’m so sorry.”
Royce just kept walking. He didn’t want to get into how much he missed his mother, or how he hadn’t felt he’d done everything he could for her before she died. There wasn’t much point to those types of conversations.
“Was she interested in the renovations?”
Maybe they weren’t done with this subject. “She definitely was. I bought the property for her, and she helped plan every facet of the renovations before she passed away. She was a history and museum buff.”
“My sister loves history, too. She teaches it at the community college. She’s the one who told me about this place.”
The personal nature of the conversation set off alarms in his brain, but his sudden desire to talk to someone who understood the house and his love of it overrode his caution. “We discussed everything about the direction of the renovations. How much to save. How much to gut and start over on. She loved every minute of it.”
He could almost feel Jasmine’s warm gaze on his face. Then she said, “I bet she did. That must have been a wonderful thing for her.”
He shrugged. “It was the least I could offer her. She was a single mother my entire life. She sacrificed more than any woman should. To make her comfortable and happy was a small gift in comparison.”
He remembered watching Jasmine with her daughter, and how it had given rise to the uncomfortable memories of his own childhood. He’d told the truth. His mother had sacrificed a lot. So had he. Which had fostered his attitude on single mothers and the workplace.
As they walked back down the front steps, the burning question Royce had ignored for days finally surfaced. “Jasmine, do you regret being a single mother?”
She halted abruptly. The gorgeous, expressive face he’d been surreptitiously watching all morning shut down. He should have known—should have kept his mouth shut. Reason number two that he avoided social gatherings...he wasn’t great at handling casual conversation.
Then her words hit him like bullets. “Never,” she said. As she turned away, she added, “Without me, she’d have no one at all.”
* * *
Jasmine sprinted around the corner of her regular event photographer’s house, groaning when she saw Royce sitting in his car at the curb. She’d had her sister drop her off at the side of Dominic’s, hoping she wouldn’t have to explain how her morning had gone. The last thing she wanted to get into was why she’d needed a ride here instead of driving herself. Of course, the fact that she was fifteen minutes late and running in her heels probably raised eyebrows.
At least she’d texted Royce and Dominic to let them know she was running behind.
She took a few seconds to straighten her dress as Royce climbed out of his sleek car. The chaos of the morning made it a little harder to pull on her professional demeanor. She would blame that on the difficult circumstances rather than the effect every meeting with this man had on her.
Regardless, it didn’t bode well for being in close proximity with Royce this morning.
Hopefully her smile wasn’t strained enough to show the lack of sleep and worry. Rosie was teething again, so she hadn’t slept well. Then Jasmine had worried about leaving her with Auntie when she knew her daughter would be more than a handful. And then...she’d gone out to find her car dead as a doornail.
Her frustration levels were maxed out.
She thought she’d masked her feelings pretty well, but Royce’s double take as he approached her told her otherwise. For once, she prayed he’d stick to his strictly business MO. Even if she’d felt inclined to share her situation, his attitude about single mothers and the workplace gave her pause.
Instead, she tried to concentrate on the bright sunshine in hopes it would chase away her worries and gloom. Other than a brief good morning, she remained silent as they waited for Dominic to answer the bell. Unfortunately, the one day she wished Royce would stick to his robot impersonation, he had to deviate from the norm.
“Everything okay?” he asked.
This must be payback of some sort for her nosiness...
“Yes.” She knew her tone would give away that she was lying.
“You seem upset.”
Lord, why did she have to have such an expressive face? Why couldn’t she just hide behind a stone facade?
