seen her. What was her name? Maggie? No, Megan.
“Hi.” The girl smiled up at him with blue eyes reminiscent of her mother’s and waved. In her other hand she held a small plate covered with plastic wrap. “We brought you cookies.” She handed them to him.
So these were Carly’s weapons of choice. Children and food. Ranked right up there with little old ladies.
His conscience mentally kicked his backside. Dad was right. Carly wasn’t the type to try to steal his grandmother’s house. However, that didn’t mean he was simply going to hand it over.
While Megan wandered off as though she lived there, he set the plate on the counter and helped himself to a cookie. “Snickerdoodles. How did you know I was in need of a snack?” He took a bite.
The feisty blonde watched him suspiciously. “What brings you back here?”
He chased the first homemade treat he’d had in a long time with a swig of coffee. “I’m—”
“Uh-oh.” Megan’s voice echoed from the next room. “Somebody made a mess.”
After a moment, Carly tore her gaze away from him and started into the front room.
Andrew set his cup on the counter and followed.
Rounding the corner into the home’s only living space, he saw Megan pointing at the small stack of baseboards he’d begun to remove this morning. Before his plans were rerouted by Carly.
“I was doing a little work.”
Carly lifted a brow. “I’m not sure what kind of work it was, but you need to put those back.”
Irritation sparked. Who was she to start giving him orders?
“Whose is this?” Now on the other side of the room, Megan rocked back and forth in his grandmother’s glider, pointing to the duffel he’d left by the front door. He wouldn’t go so far as to call the kid nosy, but she was definitely curious. Not to mention observant.
“That would be mine.” He turned to find Carly watching him.
Both brows were up in the air this time. “Planning to stay a while?”
This was ridiculous. He should not be interrogated in his own house. “As a matter of fact, I am. For several weeks. Which reminds me—” he crossed his arms over chest “—I think we need to set up a time to talk.” Glancing at Megan, he lowered his voice. “Privately.”
Mirroring his stance, Carly said, “I was thinking the same thing.”
“At least we’re in agreement about something.”
“I’m going upstairs.” A sigh accompanied Megan’s announcement, quickly followed by the clomping of boots on the wooden steps.
Andrew knew just how she felt.
With Megan gone, Carly addressed him. “I’m curious. Before you learned that you were not the sole owner of this house, what were your intentions for it? I mean, were you planning to move in?”
“Temporarily, yes. I’m going to update the place and use it for rental income.”
Seemingly confused, she said, “Where will you be?”
“Denver, of course.”
Lines appeared on her forehead. “Let me get this straight.” She perched both hands on her hips. “You don’t want me to use Livie’s house for my bed-and-breakfast, yet you want to turn it into rental property?”
“In a nutshell, yes.”
“Why not just rent your half to me?”
It wasn’t that he didn’t like Carly. He wasn’t purposely trying to thwart her plans. But this house was supposed to be his and his alone.
He dared a step closer. “Because, should I come back to Ouray, I want to be able to stay here. Without having to share it with someone else.”
She shook her head. “So you’d rather pay me half of the rent money you get? That makes no sense.”
“Pay you? Why would I—?”
“Mommy?” Megan hopped down the stairs, one loud thud at a time.
Carly seemed to compose herself before shifting her attention to her daughter. “What is it, sweetie?”
The girl tugged on Carly’s sleeve, urging her closer, then cupped a hand over her mother’s ear. “We should invite him for dinner.” For all her implied secrecy, Megan had failed to lower her voice.
A look that could only be described as sheer horror flitted across Carly’s face. Her eyes widened. “Oh, I’m sure Andrew already has plans for—”
“Nope. No plans at all.” Fully aware of her discomfort, he simply shook his head, awaiting her response.
Clearing her throat, Carly straightened, looking none too happy. “In that case, would you care to join us for dinner?” She practically ground out the words.
He couldn’t help smiling. “Sure. Why not?”
Watching them leave a short time later, he knew good and well that Carly was no more excited about having him for dinner than he was about sharing his grandmother’s house. But as Grandma was fond of saying, it is what it is.
Who knew? Maybe they’d have an opportunity to talk. And if all went well, by the time this evening was over, Grandma’s house would belong to him and him alone.
Carly removed the meat loaf from the oven and put in the apple pie she’d tossed together at the last minute. Throw in some mashed potatoes and green beans and it was comfort food all the way. She’d need all the comfort she could get if she hoped to make it through an evening with the man who had once been able to read her every thought.
Using a pot holder, she picked up the pan of meat and headed for the island. Nope. No plans at all. She all but flung the pan on the counter, sending spatters of tomato sauce across the butcher-block top.
She grabbed a rag and wiped up the mess, knowing good and well that Andrew was simply trying to get her goat. And enjoying every minute of it, no doubt. Just like he did back in high school. Only she was no longer the timid girl who was afraid to stand up for herself.
After throwing the rag into the sink, she returned to the stove to check the potatoes. Fork in hand, she lifted the lid on the large pot.
It irked her that Andrew was planning to use Livie’s house as a rental. Why wouldn’t he just let—Wait a minute.
Steam billowed in front of her.
She was half owner. That meant she had a say in what went on next door. He couldn’t use it as a rental without her permission.
Smiling,
