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Juniper slowed her steps. “Wow! These are so nice. And there are so many. I thought my family was snap happy, as my mom would say.”
“Yeah. I know. My mom and sister are responsible for at least ninety percent of all these photos. I can’t say I’m against it. Family is everything to the Blackwoods. Upstairs there’s another wall like this but of older generations.”
Before she could take in what he’d said, Marshall stopped in front of large oak doors with golden handles.
“From what I saw at your shop I think you’ll love this. Ready?”
Now he had her curiosity really piqued. What could be on the other side? A vault of boots? Stetsons?
Her heart fluttered with anticipation as she nodded. It had a bad habit of doing that when he teased her or looked at her with so much intensity.
The handles gave as he pushed the double doors wide.
Sunshine poured like honey into the room and smothered everything in its bright light. Twice the size of her office, the room opened up to a view of rolling grass and horse stables in the distance.
A faint hint of lemon polish with a tinge of scotch from late-night work carried along the sun-warmed air.
Cozy and masculine. She could definitely see Marshall spending late nights or even early mornings with a hot cup of coffee here with how the sunshine touched every single inch of the room. She eyed him, but he was busy pretending he didn’t watch her reaction, though she was certain he was taking in everything with how his gaze kept coming back to her.
He led the way in.
“It’s beautiful, Marshall. I can’t imagine ever wanting to leave. Not that your office isn’t elegant and nice. But.” She gestured to the beautiful view.
“No truer words. I prefer working from here, but that can’t happen nearly as much as I’d like. Plus, when I’m married and have work to do, I want to know I can get it done and still be available for my family.” He pointed a look at her as though he meant them for her.
Though she knew better, her heart fell in love with the man a tiny bit and she didn’t blame the darn thing one bit. She was along for the ride anyway, whether she liked the idea or not.
“I have a home office too,” she said absently as she drank in her surroundings. “There’s too much to do in a day to limit it to nine-to-five, you know. But yours is much nicer. Mine is made up of two tables pushed together to form a motley resemblance to this. You see, half of the upstairs of the old building is my apartment. When everyone is gone for the day, I like to spread out everything for the current project I’m working on and consider every angle. To do that I have to detach myself from the workplace mentally and view all the details as that bride would.”
He nodded in understanding. “I knew you would appreciate it here.”
She twirled, taken aback and it took every ounce she had not to run over to the bookcases that took up not one side of the office but two complete walls. Columns much like you would see on old Southern homes were scaled down and sculpted to fit on either side of the office as anchors to the heavy shelves. A rolling ladder was pushed to one side. She couldn’t read them from this angle, but brass plates gleamed in the sunlight, marking sections along the front of the shelves.
Her eyes widened when she caught sight of a twisting staircase from the right of his desk that led to a second level and row after row of more books. Small sitting areas were spaced out with tables and lamps that made the perfect cozy reading areas.
“Okay, I’m officially jealous.” Sweet heaven. “What kind of books do you have here?” From where she stood a few feet away she caught the titles of classics, some poetry and some of law and business.
He placed a light touch to the small dip of her back which brought her gaze to his.
“I have a little bit of everything. Ever since I could read, I’ve collected. Some are antiques.” He pointed to a section of the bookshelves where three volumes were held behind glass. “Others are anything from the Iliad from college to research on corporations and my line of work.” Sporadically placed picture frames decorated the lower shelves.
He walked over to the bookcases and plucked one thick black-framed box from one of the shelves and flipped it around.
“Oh my God! You were not kidding. Aww. They are the cutest little booties I’ve ever seen—and I mean booties. Your mom even put a tiny boot heel on them.” Blue and green hand-knitted boots were perfectly positioned behind crystal. The love and dedication shone through with every stitch.
She handed the case back.
“And you? I can just see the ten-year-old version of you in her mom’s fancy stilettos and pearls,” he teased, touching the end of her nose with a tap of his finger.
“I was born with a planner in my hand, true, but I had a hell-raiser kind of attitude. I had to grow into stilettos, sundresses, and wedding bells.” No hiding the blush that hit her cheeks. That was one admittance she didn’t verbalize all that often. Hell, at all. “My mom isn’t entirely convinced of my reformation though.” She kicked a heel out and dipped a curtsey. “My college days were filled with wild parties, blue-dyed hair and a nose piercing I no longer have.”
That pulled a warm laugh from him in reply. “I wouldn't mind seeing you with blue hair.”
She shuddered. “Yeah, that’s not gonna happen, cowboy.”
“Our parents tend to see past all our smoke and mirrors.”
“Speaking of, how long have you lived here?”
