Needs A Little TLC (Spinning Hills Romance 2) by Inés Saint Read Free Book Online

grandmother’s old yard and a neighbor. The thought that walking up a ravine in heels was a bad idea occurred to her too late. As usual. Her pumps were muddy by the time she reached the backyard.
    She went around the front and halted, needing a moment to breathe past the angst that filled her the moment she looked up. The cottage was in tatters. Chunks of stucco were coming off the exterior, stones were loose, and the vertical wood trim was dull.
    She’d been told the new owner had bought it months before. Maybe they hadn’t had time to get started. Or maybe they regretted their purchase.
    Cassie looked around and listened carefully. The street was empty and quiet. She made her way up the winding brick path that led to the porch. Heart beating in a rhythm that told her what she was doing was risky, she tried the door. It was unlocked. She pushed it open and quickly stepped inside. Everything in the living room, from the high beam ceilings to the brick wood-burning fireplace, was run-down. There was soiled carpet where hardwood floors used to be.
    When her grandmother had been diagnosed with Alzheimer’s ten years before, her family had rented the house out to help defray her health-care costs. From the looks of it, her uncle had done a lousy job picking tenants and watching over the property. She wondered what the new owner was planning. Would they love it as she and Grandma Maddie had loved it?
    She smoothed her hand against the old, chipped and scraped laminate kitchen countertops and peeked into the powder room. Both would need to be gutted. She closed her eyes and conjured up what it once was. When she opened them, the dinginess faded and warm memories filled her.
    The wall of windows and French doors that led to the yard afforded a second-story view to century-old trees. Her grandmother had always said that her grandfather bought the house, while she’d bought the view.
    She made her way to the doors, pulled back the puke-pink curtains, and looked out into the small yard that stopped abruptly at a line of boulders that signaled the ravine. Cassie pressed her nose to the window and looked out. It had always been her favorite feature. A house that backed up to a stream that led to a park. So much of her childhood had been spent running around in that park.
    Now the yard was overgrown with dandelions. She absentmindedly traced the backyard with her finger on the window. In her mind’s eye, she could still see her grandmother kneeling down over the garden, weeding the dandelions out, smiling at her as she ran to and from the park. Welcome home .
    She was happy to see that although it was faded, her grandmother’s favorite quote was still stenciled onto the space between the sliding doors and the ceiling.
    There is a magic in that little world, home; it is a mystic circle that surrounds comforts and virtues never known beyond its hallowed limits.—Robert Southey
    Cassie leaned her forehead against the quarter-sewn oak frame and breathed in. The house had always smelled of oak. Despite its condition, it still felt like home. But she felt sorry for the house. While she’d been out getting it together, the house had been falling apart.
    “Cassie?” Sam’s soft voice stole her breath and a few beats of her heart.
    What was he doing here? This was the last place she wanted to meet him. She straightened and turned around, feeling stiff and unnatural. It was different seeing him here. Alone.
    They stared at each other for a long moment, without a word. She schooled her features into what she hoped was indifference. The more she looked, the more his presence filled the space between them. It was impossible to look away. He had the arms, shoulders, and build of a man who hefted, heaved, and hammered for a living.
    She swallowed hard and looked past him. “What are you doing here?”
    “I could ask you the same thing.”
    “This is my grandmother’s old house. I’d think it’s obvious why I’m here.”
    “Why I’m