Texas Rose Forever (Texas Rose Ranch #1) by Katie Graykowski

root beer.
    “Okay.” As far as she was concerned, there was nothing to talk about. A long hot bath sounded like heaven and with any luck, she’d talk him into scrubbing her back . . . and maybe her front.

CHAPTER 7

    At six-fifteen that evening, Cinco opened the oven door, grabbed two potholders, and pulled out the pot roast, which looked a little too brown. He set it on the stove and tried to convince himself that it was blackened instead of burnt.
    A knock sounded on his front door.
    He threw the potholders down on the counter next to the stove, walked out of the kitchen, through the dining room, out into the reception hall, around the parlor, and finally to the front door. Nothing in this old house was connected by a central hallway. He opened the door to find CanDee holding two cold Shiner beer bottles. She had great taste.
    She held one out to him. “I didn’t know what you had planned for dinner and I’m not that into wine, but beer goes with everything.”
    He took the beer and moved aside to let her in. She’d changed into curve-hugging blue jeans and a light-green shirt that tied on one shoulder, leaving the other creamy shoulder bare. If he yanked on the bow at her right shoulder, would the shirt fall off? His hands itched to try it.
    She looked around. “Not what I expected.”
    “Edith’s will only stipulated that the outside remain pink. All bets were off on the inside.” He leaned against the ornately carved oak staircase. He’d painted the walls a creamy white so that the fancy woodwork around the door casings and the inlaid wooden floors really stood out.
    “Somehow, I thought the inside would be as girly as the outside. I imagined dainty velvet settees and needlepoint throw pillows.” She looked into the parlor.
    “Sorry to disappoint—nothing dainty here.” He liked overstuffed leather furniture and nothing fussy. “How about a tour?”
    He was proud of his house. He’d restored it, and based on his lack of haunting, Edith approved. He offered CanDee his elbow and she took it.
    “This is the reception hall.” He pointed to the staircase. “Not sure why it’s named that, but reception hall is on the house plans.”
    “You have the house plans?”
    “Edith drew them on a piece of paper that’s framed in the kitchen. You’ll see in a minute.” He pointed to the room across from the staircase. “This is the parlor . . . not to be mistaken with the sitting room, which is over there.”
    He pointed to the room that was catty-corner to the staircase. “Over here is the dining room and through that door is the kitchen.”
    He led her to the dining room and on to the kitchen.
    “I love the high ceilings, and all of the different rooms. It’s weird, I wonder when halls connecting rooms came into fashion?” She reached up and touched the scrollwork surrounding the door casing. “This woodwork must have taken forever to make.”
    “This house took five years to build. It has six bedrooms and one bathroom.”
    She looked around his kitchen. He’d kept the original cabinets and sink, but the appliances were commercial stainless steel.
    “I like how you’ve kept the history, but updated the house. It’s comfortable and it suits you.” She pointed to the marble-covered kitchen island. “Did you add that?”
    “It’s the old kitchen table. I added the marble, but,”—he leaned down and slapped the solid wood leg—“this is Edith’s kitchen table.”
    “It looks like the counter added a couple of inches, but isn’t that table a little taller than usual?” She looked around the kitchen. “Come to think of it, aren’t the cabinets a little taller than normal?”
    “Good eye. Most kitchen cabinets are thirty-five or so inches high. These are forty-eight inches high. Edith and Mel were tall ladies and liked their world to be their height. God knows, I can understand.” He was willing to bet that CanDee would be a fan of the taller cabinets. Most things were made for