Fleur House was a true treasure with its many porches and porticos, the arched windows and terraces and that garden, lush with possibilities. This man had bought it, commissioned Nick Santiago to renovate it and had managed to put a big intricate iron fence around it to keep everyone out.
But all of that added up to a lot of money.
“No, but how does that make me different?”
“Have you really taken a look at this town? We’re hurting. Between storms, oil spills and a bad economy, we’re barely hanging on. But you—you seem to have it all together. You get to live in a beautiful, historic home. You obviously have money since you poured a lot into renovating this place. And you’re paying me a hefty fee to spruce up the property. So yes, you’re different. You don’t have to worry about where your next paycheck will come from.”
He leaned close to her, his gaze heating her skin. “I am different, but not in the way you think.”
Callie took a breath and dug right in. “You want to explain that?”
“No,” he said. Then he glanced out the row of kitchen windows. “Oh, look, the rain’s stopped.”
Callie knew a dismissal when she heard one.
“My cue to leave,” she said. Grabbing her tote and her pride, she turned at the back door. “I’ll be back tomorrow. Hopefully, the ground will be dry by then. I’ll try to stay out of your way.”
“I’d appreciate that—you coming back to finish the job and you staying out of my way.” He nodded, glinted and then turned and walked out of the room.
Chapter Two
“So you will be at the wedding?”
Tomas walked with Brenna and Nick to their car. They’d come by to take one last look at the house that they’d both helped renovate. Tomas always enjoyed meetings that involved Brenna. She knew her art, and she had fallen in love with his right-hand man, Nicholas Santiago.
He stared at Brenna now. She was different from her sisters. All auburn and fire, lots of emotion and drama. Alma was maternal and earthy, with golden-brown hair and flashing eyes.
And Callie. She was earth, wind and fire, water and sunshine. The total package. Sunlight-golden hair and gray-blue eyes. He hadn’t seen her since they’d met the other day, but he’d seen traces of her work in the garden. Would she only come around when he wasn’t here?
“Earth to Tomas?” Brenna grinned over at him. “I think we lost you there for a minute. Did you think of something else we need to do for you? For the house?”
“No.” Tomas kept smiling. “The wedding? Yes, I plan to be there. Wouldn’t miss it.” Dreaded it with all his heart, but...he’d promised Nick.
Brenna let out a little squeal. “Good. You know, everyone in town is dying to meet the mysterious man who bought Fleur House. You’re a hot topic around here.”
Nick shook his head. “Anybody new here is a hot topic. Don’t let her tease you.”
Tomas enjoyed the way they glanced at each other. So in love. He thought of Callie, dancing in the rain. Remembered he didn’t want her dancing in his garden. Remembered her laughing in his kitchen. Remembered that he didn’t want her laughing in his kitchen. Or in his garden, for that matter.
“We’ve lost him again,” Brenna said, opening the trunk of her car to put away some folders. “Tomas, please don’t disappoint me. I want you to be at my wedding. I owe you a lot, you know. If you hadn’t bought this house, I wouldn’t have met Nick.”
“That’s true, sí,” Nick said, nodding his agreement. “Say yes, so she’ll quit pestering you.”
Brenna tilted her head. “My sisters are my bridesmaids. Callie will be wearing a pretty blue dress.”
That got his attention. “Ah, Callie. I met her the other day. She was...in the garden.”
“She loves that job,” Brenna replied, a twinkle in her eye. “She told Alma and me about how you’d caught her playing in the rain.”
He was sure she’d told them more—that he was brooding and scary and that she had a total disdain for his lofty lifestyle.
“She’s a very...interesting woman.”
Nick grinned and winked. “These Blanchard sisters, Tomas. Have to watch them.”
Brenna didn’t even bat an eye. “It’s Callie Blanchard Moreau now, but she is the last Blanchard woman standing. The strongest of us. You need to ask her to dance at the wedding so she won’t feel like a wallflower. Okay?”
“I don’t dance,” Tomas replied, already imagining Callie in a blue dress, in his arms. Definitely not a wallflower.
Brenna shook her head at that. “You might change your mind.” She was about to shut the trunk when Tomas stopped her.
“Wait,” he said, spying a painting lying in the trunk underneath a blanket. The blanket had slipped away to reveal long blond hair and one sky-blue eye. “May I see that?”
Brenna pulled at the blanket. “I painted it.” She beamed and sent a glance to her amused fiancé. “For Callie’s birthday, last December. Papa and I have been working on the frame. Only Callie is a bit embarrassed about it. She didn’t want people to think she’s vain so she asked Papa to keep it.”
Tomas lifted the painting and held it up. It was a portrait of Callie laughing in a garden. It reminded him of the other day. The day his heart had beat faster. “How much?”
Brenna frowned over at him. “Excuse me?”
“I want to buy this. How much?”
Nick cleared his throat. “Uh, that’s not for sale. Brenna gave it to Callie as a gift.”
“But she refused to accept it.” Tomas held tight to the painting. Brenna had captured her sister’s essence, the same essence he’d seen when she was in the garden. “I understand that and I appreciate it. But I’d like to buy this painting.”
Brenna started to speak, then stopped, then started again.
“I...I don’t know what to say. I mean, I worked on it for months, sometimes right here in the sunroom, before the house was finished. Papa said he’d like to hang it by our mother’s portrait.”
“How much?” Tomas asked again. “Name your price.”
Brenna dropped the blanket into the trunk. “But...what will I tell Callie? And Papa? Have you met my papa?”
“No. But I’ve met your sister. Just quote me a price.”
Brenna walked over to Nick. “Will you please explain to your boss that this portrait is not for sale?”
Nick grinned again. “I think Tomas has finally met his match.” He leaned close to Brenna. “And I’m not talking about you and your papa.”
Brenna smiled at Nick, a gleam in her eyes. “Tomas, I can’t sell you the portrait. But I’m flattered that you like it.”
Tomas put the portrait back in the trunk. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make demands. It’s just that—”
“This would be perfect in one of the bedrooms,” Brenna replied, her eyes lighting up.
“I had thought the sunroom.” Tomas shouldn’t have said anything. He didn’t like the feelings Callie seemed to stir. And he did not like the way Brenna’s eyes were gleaming now. She obviously thought he’d gone mad, or she’d sensed his hard-to-explain interest in her older sister.
“The sunroom.” Brenna’s eyes filled with tears. “Perfect.”
“I’m sorry,”