7

William stole a glance at the side of Jenna’s face. She stared straight ahead, hands clutching the steering wheel with a grip strength that would be the envy of many men. She drove meticulously, as if paying attention to the details of the road freed her of the responsibility of conversation.

A strange combination of relief and dread sparred inside. Relief that she was actually giving him a ride to Linda’s trailer, as Becky suggested, and dread because she so clearly didn’t want to be here. The sudden shift in the temperature between them was unexpected, considering her apology yesterday.

Partnering with her was beginning to feel like working with a dull saw blade; he never knew what kind of kick-back to expect. But, no matter what drove her to accept responsibility for his transportation, he was thankful. Thankful for a lot.

After the rocky way they started their partnership, they seemed to be settling into an acceptable, albeit fragile, rhythm. He shouldn’t torture himself by noticing things like how her purple jeans hugged her curves, right down to her shapely calves. He shouldn’t care how her fitted blazer was likely meant to look professional but, left casually unbuttoned, it gave him tiny glimpses of her trim waist. He shouldn’t, but he did.

He cleared his throat. “So, thanks for driving me.”

She threw him a sideways look. “You couldn’t very well walk carrying this box of pantry items.” She quickly refocused on the road ahead of her and changed lanes. “When will you get your truck back?”

“Tucker seems to think that he can get it running well enough to save me the tow charge to the garage. But I’ll still have to take it in and get it looked over.”

She didn’t comment, but her gaze flicked his way.

He changed topics. “Linda’s insurance money should come in soon. The crew will start to clear the land for the rebuild.”

Her perfectly shaped eyebrow arched. “Are you heading it up? How will you manage that and your responsibilities at the church?”

“I’ll manage.” Honestly, he didn’t know how he would manage. But Jenna didn’t need to know that.

“You know,” she said, while checking her blind spot and switching lanes, “you should use her house as your season one project for the reality show. Rebuild it with a modern twist. Reproduce all the original heritage features while adding hidden modern conveniences.”

His stomach lurched at the mention of his show. He was scheduled to meet with the producer later today. They’d either offer him a contract or the boot. They had requested he come prepared to pitch a season one idea, and he had nothing but substandard ideas. As her suggestion rolled around his mind, he sat straighter in the small-sized bucket seat. Re-build Linda and Paul’s place. Of course. It was brilliant. A smile spread across his face.

The station would cover the additional expenses of the heritage features and make up for what the fire insurance didn’t cover. And if the pitch was good enough, it might seal the deal on the spot allowing him to sign the contract and free up his monetary advance, further easing his money troubles.

Jenna’s idea might fix everything.

“Or not.” She misinterpreted his silence as disapproval and roughly shifted the car into fourth gear. “Whatever you think is probably best.”

“No, no, it’s great. Perfect, really. I’m not sure why I never thought of it.” He rested his hand on her hers, which remained on the gearshift. “Really. Thank you.”

The appreciative look in her eyes stunned him. He didn’t realize until just now how much she craved approval. He withdrew his hand and shifted in his seat. Her little sedan didn’t provide a lot of space. The front bucket seats were so close together that he caught a tantalizing whiff of her delicate perfume. Vanilla? A shot of attraction skidded through him and crashed into his ribs. He folded his hands in his lap and tried not to think about how perfectly her smaller hand had fit underneath his.

“It’s the next right.” He pointed ahead and Jenna put on her signal light.

“Should I come in or wait in the car?” Her vivid eyes widened as she waited for his response. “I don’t mind, you know, in case you guys want a few minutes alone.”

Where was that coming from? He had never given any indication that he wanted to be alone with Linda.

She slipped out the driver’s side before he could answer and opened the back door. She pulled some items off the backseat. He unfolded from the car and peered over the rooftop. Her feet crunched through the frosted snow as she shifted her weight from side to side.

Warm breath puffed in front of her face. “Mrs. Fenwick gave me these for Linda. They were at her place.” She hoisted up a few photo albums giving him a glimpse of the books.

Ahhhh, it all made sense now. The meddling Mrs. Fenwick made no secret of her opinion in regards to his relationship with his sister-in-law. She went as far as telling him that marrying Linda was his biblical responsibility as Paul’s brother.

Jenna broke eye contact and walked around to the trunk, popping it open with her key fob. He circled back and stood toe to toe with her, waiting to speak until she lifted her head and met his eyes. “Did she say something to you?”

“Nothing much.” She held out the albums.

“Enough to make you think there was something between Linda and me?” He took the albums from Jenna, laid them on top of the box of goodies in the trunk, and hoisted the full box out of the trunk.

She rubbed her toe in an arch across the crusty white covering the ground and folded her arms across her chest. “It’s none of my business, William.”

“She’s my brother’s wife. I love her like a sister.”

“Of course you love her.”

It was the way she never challenged him, but just accepted his statement that made him sure she’d hung onto the wrong word in that sentence.

It was crazy to think there was anything more than a platonic love between Linda and him. He couldn’t, he wouldn’t apologize for loving his sister-in-law.

Crazy. That was all there was to it. And he was definitely crazy for caring what Jenna thought. He had no business investing emotionally in a woman, no matter how hard his heart thudded against his ribcage when she stepped into the room.

Nope. He didn’t need or want a woman. But unfortunately, whether he liked it or not, Jenna was fast becoming very important to him. Maybe too important.

~*~

William met television executive Jeff Foxshire’s eyes and accepted his offered hand, pumping it three time with a firm grip before letting go.

“Thanks for meeting with me, sir.” William fought to keep a straight face. Mr. Foxshire had nice hands. A man should never have softer hands than a woman. As quick as the thought came, rebuke followed. He readjusted his expression and attitude. Not every man was a physical laborer. Masculinity existed in both the office setting and on the job site. Besides, this man had the power to pull the plug on William’s new show and sink the dream of saving Paul’s farm.

He took in the many awards hanging on the office walls. This man knew television. If he didn’t believe in William’s show, then no one would.

“Happy to meet you, William. Please sit down.”

William sank into the chair.

Mr. Foxshire reclined behind his mahogany desk like a king surveying his court. He spread his manicured hands in front of him and flipped through the paperwork that littered his desktop in search of a particular file.

“We’ve reviewed the DVD of your work at the church,” Mr. Foxshire said. He retrieved his papers and tapped his fingertips together.

“And?”

“We like what we see.”

William exhaled hard. He could finally pay Paul’s missed payments and get rid of the stack of letters from the bank waiting to be opened on his kitchen countertop.

“But…”

He snapped up his head. Guys like this always had a “but.”

“…we also like your partner, Jenna.”

A million red flags went up. Yeah, he liked Jenna, too, but the feelings didn’t seem mutual. “What do you mean?”

“Meaning we like the sexual tension between you two. You sizzle.” He massaged his fingertips together. “Sizzle sells.”

William opened his mouth.

Mr. Foxshire held up his hand. “Every station has a decorating show these days, but one with a romantic twist between the hosts, now that’s new.”

“I think you’re reading too much into things,” William argued. “Jenna and I are not involved.” William dug his fingers into the leather arms of his chair. He couldn’t lose the show when he was this close to securing it.

“If there isn’t romance now, there used to be. I know what I saw.” Jeff winked and his upper lip curled, all but calling William a liar.

“I mean it,” William repeated. “We are not an item.”

“Call your relationship whatever you want, but I liked what I saw on this recording. That’s what I want. That’s what I’m willing to sign.” He tossed a DVD across his desk to William.

William caught it. He should have offered to meet the crew on Jenna’s day off, but no, he had to be a big shot and show off. The prideful part of him that he always fought against wanted Jenna to see how successful he’d become. He wanted to, ugh, impress her? His eyes slid shut for a brief moment. The Good Book warned that pride went before a fall. Maybe he deserved to lose the farm.

“I also like your idea about rebuilding homes and businesses in your neighborhood. It gives the show a nice community feel, and your area is historic enough to make it interesting.” Mr. Foxshire prattled on as if he had no idea how impossible his request was.

“Jenna is not part of the deal,” William said.

“Maybe I’m not making myself clear.” He leaned over his desk pressing his fingertips onto the surface. “Jenna makes or breaks the deal.”

Mr. Foxshire’s confident tone soured William’s stomach. Jenna’s self-imposed boundaries would not allow for a second partnership.

“I’m offering you a chance,” Mr. Foxshire continued as if the bottom hadn’t just dropped from the world. “Co-sign Jenna and show us that you can finish your current job on time and under budget, and you can have your show.”

William clung to a thin thread of hope as Mr. Foxshire outlined his demands in detail. Maybe Jenna would like to be in the show? She was certainly good with the crew. Besides, what up-and-coming artist wouldn’t love a chance at this kind of exposure? He shifted in the chair.

“I’m sure she’d love to co-star. I mean, what designer wouldn’t jump at this opportunity? But we’re not an item.” Jenna didn’t trust him any further than she could throw him. Even if he could get Jenna to sign, he couldn’t promise them romance. There was no way, after all they’d been through together, that she’d look twice at him romantically.

He tossed the DVD back across the desk and rose out of his chair. “I guess some things don’t transfer onto video.” Sin carried a high price tag, but he had hoped he wouldn’t have to pay with his brother’s farm. Please, God, let there be another way.

Jeff flapped his manicured hand with impatience. “Please sit down. Don’t insult my intelligence. I know what I see. This is an opportunity, William. Go make nice with the pretty girl and save your dead brother’s farm.”

His felt his eyes bug out of his head at the mention of Paul’s farm. His thoughts flickered back to the stack of letters threatening foreclosure. “How do you—”

“It’s my job to know.” Foxshire’s steely eyes reminded him of a predator hunting prey.

The farm. Foxshire had found his weak spot.