Draw Me Close

Book 3: Hearts and Crafts

by Nicole Michaels

Genres: Romantic Comedy; Contemporary Romance

Synopsis

SOMETIMES LOVE IS STRONGER
Lindsey Morales is a beautiful, talented decorator with a popular lifestyle blog. She always knows just how to make things look perfect. But when it comes to her love life, there’s no design trick she can use to cover up the obvious: Her broken heart.

THE SECOND TIME AROUND
Eight years ago, Derek Walsh just wasn’t ready to choose a long-term relationship over his career. But now that the handsome, hot-shot architect has the chance to see Lindsey again—working with her to renovate an old farmhouse—he will do everything he can to repair the damage of the past. But is he finally ready to build a real future…if Lindsey is willing to take him back?

“Sexy and exciting...this is a book that makes falling in love even more fun.”—RT Book Reviews

Release date: March 1, 2016

Publisher: St. Martin's Publishing Group

Print pages: 320

Sample

One



It was bad enough being single on Valentine’s Day, but Lindsey Morales was single, alone, and working. By her own choice, of course. Work was always her escape from the pressures of the world. Besides being incredibly broke, she had the additional pressures today of lacking heart-shaped candy, cards full of meaningless drivel, and overpriced flowers. Things she’d never received from a man on Valentine’s Day before. But it was fine. Candy went straight to your thighs, meaningless drivel was, well … meaningless, and flowers wilted and died. No reason to feel sorry for oneself. None at all.

Lindsey let out a sigh and stared through her windshield at the turn-of-the-century, light yellow farmhouse that she’d been hired to help renovate. The headlights of her SUV cut through the night, illuminating the wraparound porch. It was in the process of being rebuilt and everything was coming along nicely. She’d been very specific that it needed to look just like the original and thankfully her instructions had been followed. But it still … needed something. Maybe a swing. Or a pair of rocking chairs. She would suggest that to her friend Anne, since this was going to be her house when the work was finished.

And what a gorgeous house it would be. The property was incredibly serene and beautiful. Although it was now dark, Lindsey had been here enough times to perfectly imagine the picturesque landscape. The big barn in the back that nestled up to a wide-open field and the mature line of trees that ran the perimeter of the extensive yard. It certainly would be lovely to wake up to that kind of beauty and peacefulness every morning.

Lindsey turned off her engine, collected her bag of home magazines and cutouts, laptop, the little cooler she’d packed for herself, and got out of the car.

The February wind was brutal, biting at her cheeks as she walked up the front porch steps. This morning’s weather forecast had mentioned a cold front was moving in and that could mean snow—not her favorite. It wasn’t even six in the evening, yet it was already pitch-black outside. Thankfully whoever had worked here last had left the porch light on. Lindsey laid down her cooler in order to pull the key from her jeans pocket and unlock the front door.

She stepped in and took a deep breath of paint fumes and pine, then went back for her things before shoving the door shut against the bitter cold. It had been nearly a week since her last visit and she was excited to see what had been done.

Flipping on the entryway light, she turned and took in the space with pleasure. It was spectacular. The stairs had been rebuilt with the bannister and spindles she and Anne had chosen, and the large entryway chandelier—full of vintage Swarovski crystals she’d repurposed—sparkled. Despite Lindsey’s disdain for the contractor on the project, she had to admit that he knew what he was doing. Or at the very least he knew how to hire good tradesmen. It was difficult to give the man too much credit, even if it was due.

It wasn’t that Lindsey had a problem with contractors on principle, just this one. She and Derek Walsh had a history, one she’d have preferred never to think of again. That was easier said than done, but not seeing his face helped. Hence the main reason for her nighttime Valentine session.

As she stood here, ready to do manual labor in jeans and an old T-shirt, he was probably wooing some unsuspecting woman with a fancy dinner and flowers. No doubt he was dressed to entice—easy to do for a wealthy man who was too handsome for his own good. She could imagine him in dress pants that perfectly molded his butt and a well-tailored suit jacket that hinted at barely restrained muscles. He probably had no use for sappy cards, chocolate, or overpriced bouquets. It wouldn’t take much convincing to lure a woman back to his place.

Lindsey knew his routine all too well, and now that he was divorced it was probably serving him well once again. Men like Derek were exactly the reason Lindsey was better off working and not dating.

And she’d keep telling herself that until she believed it.

With one last glance around the entryway Lindsey headed down the little hallway toward the kitchen. She stopped and peeked into the living room. It was dark, but the hall light cast enough of a glow that she could see the progress. The old shag carpet was gone and the hard floors they’d found beneath had been sanded down and were ready for stain. The large marble mantel stood majestically at the far end of the room. It was one of both Lindsey and Anne’s favorite things in the entire house. An original piece that Lindsey had covered in sticky notes that read DO NOT TOUCH.

She’d left similar sticky notes on other pieces, too. The bookcases in the upstairs hallway, the original pocket doors that led to the dining room, the upper cabinets in the kitchen, and of course all of the trim work and hardware.

The house was over a hundred years old, which made it special and incredibly unique. Not that there weren’t other old houses, but homes of this era were not prefab, mass-produced, or worst of all … modern. They were built with hard work, love, and attention to detail. Full of treasures that were worth preserving.

Lindsey was pretty certain that she and Derek didn’t share this philosophy. This project wasn’t the norm for the hotshot architect. He was used to building fancy office buildings with lots of metal and glass. Boring. Every time she came back to the house she was afraid he’d have approved the removal of one of the home’s treasures and her sticky notes were her way to remind him that he was being watched.

The arrangement between the two of them, and of course their friends Anne and Mike, had been very clear. Being the general contractor, Derek would do the foundation work: structural, electric, plumbing, and so on. He was responsible for moving some walls, making everything safe, efficient, and sturdy. The crews he hired did the necessary work, then she’d come in and make it lovely.

Normally their two roles would be symbiotic, requiring lots of discussion and throwing ideas back and forth to come to a mutually agreeable plan of attack for the reno. However, that arrangement wasn’t really ideal for Lindsey since she’d have preferred not to hear his voice again for as long as she lived. But so far it seemed the sticky notes and short-but-to-the-point e-mails were doing the trick. She was pleased. Along with getting her way, she was avoiding the man altogether.

Lindsey stepped into the kitchen, flipped on a light, and immediately grinned. The bottom cabinets were new and custom-made just for the space. They were currently unfinished, waiting to be painted and stained. But the uppers were the crowning jewels of the room. They were original to the home, and the white paint had aged and worn in just the right places to create a lovely patina. The same look that people scoured Pinterest to learn how to re-create on their eighties-era garage-sale finds. She appreciated that, heck she did it, too. Even sold pieces like that. But these cabinets were the real deal and she was in love with them. The juxtaposition of these originals with the newer lowers was going to be fabulous, especially when she reinstalled the bubbled glass doors. She could already imagine how Anne would fill them with beautiful dishes and glassware.

Running her hand along the roughened wood, Lindsey wondered about all the wonderful memories these cabinets had witnessed. The preparation of Christmas dinners, first-day-of-school breakfasts. Definitely days of sadness and despair. That was what she loved about old things, their stories. Knowing that these had been used for generations, served their owners well, made it her pleasure to give them a new life. A second chance. A light glaze would protect and polish the wood, hopefully helping it to last another hundred years.

Her eyes caught on a giant Ziploc bag resting on the cabinet shelf. She reached for it and read the sticky note at the top. DO NOT THROW THESE OUT!!!

It was one of hers, she’d left it on the original cabinet hardware. Written below it in a meticulous boxy handwriting that she knew all too well, she read, YOUR BOSSY VOICE IS SEXY.

Lindsey sucked in a shallow breath. This was another one of the reasons she’d avoided Derek. It may have been eight years since she’d been in love with him—give or take. But as much as she hated to admit it, she was not immune to his charms. Derek was potent. Dangerous.

Gently laying the bag on the counter, Lindsey allowed herself a minute to collect her thoughts. He was just messing with her and she couldn’t let it be a distraction. It was time to get some things done. She settled her cooler on the island, which was currently two sawhorses covered with a large piece of thin plywood. That was another project she was rather excited about because she had big plans to surprise Anne with a custom island.

Opening the cooler, Lindsey pulled out the small feast she’d prepared for herself. Hummus and carrots, chicken salad on a croissant, peanut butter cookies, and three bottles of raspberry wheat beer. She might not be on a Valentine’s date but that didn’t mean a girl couldn’t treat herself. Munching on a carrot, she arranged the rest of her spread to her liking.

Plugging headphones into her cellphone, she popped the top on her first beer and then loaded up her favorite Aerosmith playlist. Tonight’s goal was all about taking precise measurements. Things like backsplash tile, stain, paint, even window treatments needed to be ordered.

One of the most exciting parts of the renovation was that the entire process was being featured on the lifestyle blog Lindsey contributed to with her two best friends. My Perfect Little Life had originally been started by Anne, the future homeowner. The next to join was Callie. She owned an adorable—and incredibly successful—bakery in town. Nearly two years ago they’d invited Lindsey to post about repurposing and crafting. She loved every minute of it, and in the past few years the blog had become extremely popular. Their loyal followers were invested and excited to watch “Anne’s Dream House Renovation” continue to unfold.

“Cryin’” blasted away in her ears as she pulled out her tape measure. She hated using the thing, with its cheap metal case and flimsy tape. But currently it was all she had. Fine for carrying in her purse, but as soon as she could Lindsey had plans to invest in some nice tools.

Setting to work, Lindsey focused on measuring the space between the upper and lower cabinets. A beautiful glass tile would be nice. Or maybe a beveled white subway tile. She smiled as she imagined all of the possibilities. This was what brought her joy, taking something tired and worn, and making it beautiful. Hopefully this job would lead to others like it. When she was finished with this house, it was going to be spectacular. If she couldn’t have her own happily ever after, then the least she could do was help her friends create theirs.

* * *

Derek Walsh wasn’t in the habit of ambushing innocent women, but Lindsey Morales had left him little choice. She’d done everything short of seeking a restraining order to keep them from encountering each other during this project. After tonight that might be her next step, but that was a chance he was willing to take.

He’d been using the barn at the back of his friend Mike’s property as his makeshift office while he oversaw the renovation, and tonight he’d hung around to do busywork.

Waiting.

Quietly he pulled the barn door shut and headed through the yard toward the front door of the house. He’d heard Lindsey pull up and go in about a half hour ago and he wondered what she might be doing right now. He was nearly aching to see her face, but more importantly the two of them needed to hash a few things out. At the very least he had some things he needed to say to her. Things he’d been too much of a coward to say eight years ago, and as much as he knew she would not want to listen, he was intent on them having a long talk. They owed it to each other.

It didn’t surprise him that she’d chosen a holiday—and a Sunday night—to come out and work. She assumed that she’d have the place to herself. But when Mike let the news slip-on-purpose that she’d be here, Derek had quickly processed three thoughts. One, Mike was a really good friend. Two, why the hell didn’t a gorgeous woman like Lindsey have plans on Valentine’s Day? Third, thank God Lindsey didn’t have plans on Valentine’s Day. The thought of her out with another man … well, his feelings on that were not something Derek was ready to process just yet.

A snowflake fell in Derek’s path, glowing in the moonlight, as he made his way up the porch steps. The wind had picked up in the past hour and the screen door pushed against his hand as he lifted his key to the lock. The door opened at his slight touch and he frowned. How could she leave the door unlocked while she worked alone? Did she not watch the news? Or horror movies?

He stepped lightly into the entryway, not wanting to scare her. He wondered if he should call out her name, but before he could consider his next move, he heard … singing.

A stupid grin spread across his face as he listened. Lindsey was no nightingale, but he was pretty damn sure she wasn’t trying for great. Maybe a sweet voice lingered underneath there somewhere, but no, this was a woman who thought she was alone, trying to impress no one. He recognized the song instantly and it surprised him a little bit. Slowly he made his way down the long hallway, his body humming with the knowledge that she was near.

The first thing he saw when he peeked into the kitchen was her long brunette ponytail. He couldn’t help remembering what it felt like between his fingers—so silky and thick. It was a living thing, her hair. He loved the way it complemented the warmth of her skin and her sparkling hazel eyes. Every inch of her was ingrained in his memory, always had been. That didn’t say much for his ex-wife, but she’d never been Lindsey. No one had.

For a moment he stood watching her. Tight T-shirt, ass shifting in her jeans as she leaned across the countertop to hold her tape measure against the wall. He should look away, it would do him no good to remember all the ways he’d once wanted her. How beautiful that body looked bare. After many years of misery, he’d finally convinced himself that what he’d had with Lindsey was never meant to be. But goddamn, as he stood here drinking her in, he couldn’t help imagining his hands on her body, the feel of backing her up firmly against him.

Derek ground his teeth down and forced the unwanted thoughts from his mind. He’d be lucky if Lindsey welcomed his offering of friendship, let alone his touch. So far she’d made it very clear that she was completely uninterested in speaking with him, but this avoidance business had to end. They were adults. Their best friends were getting married, so the least they could do was learn to be in the same room together.

The fact that he’d purposely spent more time on a job site than he ever did was the first sign that he was committed to seeing her. And yet she’d never showed, despite the fact that all of the aesthetic details were her job. They’d exchanged a couple of very curt e-mails in regard to her choices for lighting and trim pieces, but that was the only communication. Not good enough for him. That needed to end tonight.

Derek bit down hard on his bottom lip—holding in a laugh—as she belted out another line, doing her best Steven Tyler impersonation. He was going to have hell to pay when she realized he was standing here watching. Worth it.

Leaning against the door frame, he folded his arms across his chest as her humming echoed through the room and straight through his body. His lips quirked as she leaned down to scribble something onto a sticky note and then slapped it on the wall. Clearly she took as much pleasure in her little notes as he did.

His crew had gotten used to seeing little neon sticky notes all over the house with very brief, very bossy instructions. She used a lot of exclamation points. Things like DO NOT PAINT THIS!!!!!! or PLEASE MOVE THE ELECTRICAL OUTLET OVER HERE!!!!

He tilted his head and gazed at the makeshift island. She’d brought herself an entire meal. Beer included. Huh. Was she drunk? No, didn’t seem to be drunk, just oblivious to the fact that she wasn’t alone. He didn’t like that thought, not at all.

Something in the air changed and he glanced up. Her body remained facing away from him, but she’d gone stone still. That’s when he caught her stare reflected in the window over the sink. She’d seen him.

Lindsey jerked around, her hands ripping the earphones from her ears. “What are you doing here?” Her eyes were wide, panicked.

There were a couple of ways he could play this, but instinctively he went for the route she no doubt expected from him. He smiled before he spoke. “Enjoying the show.”

The slight glare on her face didn’t deter him. Pushing off from the door frame, he stepped into the kitchen. The temporary island separated them and she looked like a scared animal searching for an escape route. Then suddenly, smooth as silk, she pulled a mask over her emotions. What irritated him the most was that she seemed intent on not meeting his eyes.

Lindsey cleared her throat and set her pen down on the plywood. “How long have you been standing there?”

He shrugged. Her bad attitude pissed him off. And also reminded him of his earlier annoyance with her carelessness. “Long enough to know that had I been a stranger you’d be dead right now. Or worse.”

“Well, had I asked for your opinion on the matter, I’d appreciate your concern. But since I didn’t, then I don’t.”

Derek let out a hard breath. He needed to collect himself before he said something that sent her running. He’d already allowed this to get started on the wrong foot. “Fine. I’m just saying, next time, lock the damn door.”

“Fine, you said. Now feel free to lock it for me on your way out.” She turned away from him and reached for her headphones.

“Linds … please.” He was shocked at the desperation in his voice. Apparently he wasn’t the only one. Lindsey’s hand stilled next to her side, but she didn’t turn. They were both quiet for a moment, waiting for the other to make a move.

“I’m working, Derek,” she finally said.

His eyes pinched shut at the sound of his name on her lips. It was the first time he’d heard it in eight years. If only it wasn’t coated in such hatred.

“I see that. Measuring for backsplash tile?” he asked, stepping a little closer ever so slowly.

“Obviously.” She lifted her cheap metal tape measure up to the wall again. It bent awkwardly where a crimp in the tape had formed. Derek instantly lifted his nice bulky one out of his jacket pocket and stepped around the island to lay it on the counter beside her.

“Here. Use mine.”

“No, thanks.” She didn’t even look down. Leaning forward once more, this time she used two hands to hold the tape in place. Clearly the thing was such a piece of junk—or so old—that it didn’t have a blade lock. In her frustrated state she accidentally let the right side go and it bent at the crimp once more before the tape began reeling itself back into the case.

Derek took the opportunity to scoot his tape measure farther in front of her. “Quit being stubborn and use this.”

With a huff she slammed the old metal case down on the counter and picked his up. The chunky tool looked giant in her small hand.

“It’s heavy,” she said quietly. “Not sure how this will be any better.”

Derek nearly rolled his eyes. She was hell-bent on being contrary. “Well, trust me, it will be. This one has a strong blade lock so you only have to use one hand. Keep it. I’ve got several more of those in my truck.”

“Of course you do,” she said with disdain.

Unbelievable. “So now you’re even holding my tool collection against me? Perfect.”

He watched as she turned the gadget over in her hands, feeling the heft, pulling the tape out a few inches to inspect it. He would give anything to know what was going on in her brain. But more than that, right now he wanted her eyes on his.

“You know … if you’d just look at me, we could have a real conversation.” He forced himself to keep any bitterness out of his tone. The last thing she deserved was his anger, he knew that, but damn if her refusal to even glance in his direction didn’t piss him the hell off.

Her body tightened in response but her head turned in his direction. She glanced at the ground between them and it was all he could do to keep from placing a finger under her chin and guiding her gaze to his. How he missed her eyes, the most beautiful color of green fading into brown he’d ever seen. Like a mix of grass, honey, and chocolate.

She gently set the tape measure down, her hands quickly grasping the counter in front of her, as if she needed the support to stay upright. He hated knowing this made her uncomfortable, but he was at a loss as to how to approach this woman. Make her trust him. Maybe he needed to accept that she probably never would.

If she’d just look into his eyes, let him explain, she would see how sorry he was for the way he’d let her go eight years ago. Just the thought of that night made his insides ache. Not one day had gone by that he didn’t feel regret over the way things had ended between them.

There’d been no seeking her out over the years. Definitely not while he was married because he would not disrespect his vows like that, but not even after the divorce because he hadn’t deserved to see Lindsey. But now that fate had brought them together again, he saw it as a gift. A chance to right his wrong in this woman’s eyes, if just for an ounce of her understanding. If she’d only give him that.

“I never thought I’d see you again, Linds.” Despite himself, his voice held too much emotion, too much longing, and immediately he knew it was a mistake to say the words out loud. She sucked in a shaky breath and began to fidget with the black and red tape measure on the counter.

Damn. He’d meant to keep emotions out of this. The plan was only to talk, not try and seduce her. No good would come of that because he would not allow himself to hurt this woman ever again.

“I hoped to never see you again.” Her voice was cold.

That gutted him, but it wasn’t a surprise. “I don’t blame you,” he said.

“Then why are you here?” she bit out, her head still facing the counter. “There is no reason for us to know each other anymore. It’s just an unfortunate accident that our friends met and fell for each other. You have to stop doing this to me.”

Okay, now that she mentioned it, maybe he was making a habit out of the ambush approach. Last fall, he had found a way to be at the right place at the right time, which happened to have been Anne’s kitchen, in front of all Lindsey’s friends. It had been stupid, but damn it, he hadn’t known what else to do. At the time he’d just recently realized they were connected through friends and was desperate to see her. He’d wanted to explain, make her understand how sorry he was. Tell her that he’d thought of her nearly every day after he’d broken things off eight years ago.

And at night, God, at night, she’d haunted his dreams. He could never tell her that, but it might help if she knew that his feelings had been sincere. That although he’d never said it then, he had loved her very much. Had never stopped caring for her. She should know that all of it had been real.

“When Mike showed me the blog and I saw your face,” he said, his voice strained. Now that she stood this close—within reach—he wasn’t sure how to put it all into words. “I felt like I couldn’t breathe.”

Her eyelids fluttered for a moment, but she quickly turned and walked around the island in the opposite direction. She picked up her beer but didn’t drink, only squeezed it, as if it were to keep her hands from shaking. “I wish you wouldn’t say things like that.”

“Linds—”

“Don’t call me Linds,” she snapped. “That’s what my friends call me. We are not friends.”

Derek felt tension take hold of his jaw and he moved it around to unlock it before he responded. “We used to be more than friends.”

“I barely remember that,” she said. They both knew the statement was false, especially considering her obvious reaction to his presence.

“You’re a very bad liar, Linds.” He cocked his head to the side, silently begging her to look up. And then she did.

He might have expected the hurt, even hate. But the cold disgust he found in the depths of her eyes could very well destroy him. Now that she’d locked on, she wasn’t letting go, and they stared at each other as she spoke.

“Well, you are a very good liar, and that I do remember. So forgive me if I don’t wish to speak to you anymore or ever again.” Her voice was steady but he was almost certain there was a strain of raw, painful emotion simmering just beneath the surface. Still, she didn’t look away, and as much as her words hurt him, they were also the truth. She had no idea what a good liar he’d been and he deserved every bit of her anger. But when he saw the sudden flash of pain in her eyes, he almost couldn’t bear it.

With slow deliberation Derek put one foot in front of the other and stepped in front of Lindsey. This close he couldn’t help himself. He gently touched beneath her chin with his finger, effectively tilting her face up to meet his. It was wrong and stupid, but God, it also felt so right. Her lips pursed but she didn’t take her eyes off him. Her pupils were wide and full of warring emotions.

“I’m not trying to upset you, Lindsey.” That was the truth. So why the hell was he pushing it like this? He knew better. And obviously so did she because she quickly pulled away.

“Then don’t touch me.”

“I’m sorry. I—that’s what I’m trying to do. Tell you I’m sorry.” He shoved his hands in his pockets to forcibly keep himself in check. “I just want a chance to show you—after all this time—that we could be friends.”

Lindsey shook her head, slowly at first, but it quickly became frantic. “No. No, we can’t be friends. Besides, you don’t even know me anymore. I’m not the same person and I’m sure you aren’t, either. It’s been eight years, that’s a long time.”

“Clearly not long enough for you to forget how much you hate me.”

A bitter laugh escaped her lips. “You’re right on that score. I’m not sure I could ever forget what you did. You had no reason to hurt me the way you did beyond the fact that you’re just a selfish asshole. So, no, we can’t be friends. Please just stop now because you’re wasting your time.”

Derek sucked in a deep breath through his nose, then another. Every moment in this woman’s presence was a reminder of how painful it had been to let her go. He could still picture the shock and devastation in her eyes as he’d lied to her face. Told her that he’d made a mistake—they shouldn’t be together. That he still loved someone else. God, just thinking of it now made him angry with himself.

And then how he’d ached for her, even while awaiting the birth of his first child. All of it had been so messed up, and it had also been his fault. He’d been young, stupid, and seeking the approval of people who didn’t matter. There was no way he could expect her forgiveness when he couldn’t even forgive himself. She was right, he’d been an asshole. Selfish? That was debatable. At the time he’d been certain he was doing the right thing, just as he always did. The voice in his head had been that of his father. Don’t be a fuckup, be a man.

She would have made him a better man, but it was too late to make the right choice now.

“You’re right. I fucked up everything, it was my fault and I hate myself for it. But the only time wasted was all the years of my life you weren’t mine. I think I can afford to waste a few more trying to make it up to you.”

Surprise flashed through her eyes, but he was certain he could see her forcing any reaction below the surface, holding herself in check. She’d always been strong, but she was even more so now. He hated to think that he’d contributed to that through the pain he’d caused her. A woman—this woman—should find strength through a man’s unyielding support and love. Not his betrayal. God, how he wished he’d been that man for her.

Derek stared into her eyes for a long moment, searching for the slightest hint that feelings lingered below the surface. The kind of feelings that might give him hope. All he could see was hatred.

“Good night, Lindsey,” he whispered. He couldn’t help it as he slowly ran the back of his knuckles down the length of her cheek. Derek clamped his eyes shut as he reveled in the softness of her skin, the hitch in her breathing.

Before she had the urge to slap him, he stepped away and left the kitchen. As he strode through the hallway fury overwhelmed him and he had a mind to throw something just for the pleasure of hearing it shatter. He was angry with himself for letting her go the first time, with her for being so beautiful and strong. He couldn’t fault her for it, but damn it, he wou