Dakota Love Read Online Free PDF Page B

her, and her shoulders sagged. Disappointment filled her pretty blue eyes and pulled her lips into a grim line. Her body language said that she had tried her best with the website. Caroline’s talent lay in creativity with fabrics, not website design. No shame in that.
    Rodney, pulling a trick from his adman’s hat, flashed a reassuring smile. He’d lead with all the appealing things her website had going for it, and then he’d talk about improvements. “Sorry, it’s the adman in me. For a first attempt, your site is eye pleasing—easy-to-read font that’s black on white with no loud colors or music.”
    “Do I hear a
but
floating around in there?” Caroline raised her eyebrows in question.
    She was pretty and intuitive. No use in sidestepping around issues. “But this layout won’t sell your business and bring in customers if that’s what you want it to do.”
    Caroline sighed and placed one elbow on the computer desk, then rested her chin in her hand. “It is. I ran an ad in a couple of quilt magazines, but everyone at the quilt conference I attended insisted websites attract customers.”
    “It’s true. We live in a computer era. After all, where did you go to look up the quilt block name?”
    “The Internet.” Caroline nodded. She lifted her cup and took a sip. “Since this is how I earn my living, I guess I should hire someone to design my website. Trouble is, I don’t know anyone who does that. Do you?”
    “I know someone who can do it.”
    “Do you know what they charge? Is it expensive? I can’t afford too much.”
    Rodney fought the urge to use his thumb to rub away the worry indent that formed between Caroline’s brows when she frowned. The deep crease indicated she wore that expression often. To keep his hands busy, Rodney slipped his fingers into the front pockets of his blue jeans, hooking his thumbs in the belt loops. “Well, I work pretty cheap. Maybe a home-cooked meal or two.”
    Caroline shook her head. “You’re retired from that type of business. I can’t ask you to do that.”
    Rodney’s insides wrenched at the word
retired
. He enjoyed his life now but seldom felt the vibrancy that came with selling a product, especially one he believed in. He believed in Caroline’s products and her business. It had nothing to do with his interest in her personally. She was a good quilter and deserved to succeed.
    “Caroline Baker, are you a hard sell? Because I must warn you that was my favorite kind of potential client when I worked in the ad game.”
    “Hard sell?” Caroline’s eyes began to twinkle. “You say that like it’s a bad thing.”
    “Not a bad thing, but I’m afraid my persuasive skills are rusty and I’m tired of eating my dinners perched on the arm of the sofa while I watch the news. So what do you say? Let me punch up your website. Please.” Rodney clasped his hands together in a begging fashion.
    Caroline laughed out loud. “All right, but no backing out if you don’t like my cooking. And don’t even expect pie for dessert, because there is no way I can compete with your mom’s.”
    Laughter relaxed the tense expression Caroline usually wore. Her curly hair, touched with gray, framed her face. She looked carefree. An expression she should wear more often. It suited her.
    “I like chocolate cake, too,” Rodney offered with a wink.
    “Thanks for that subtle hint.” Caroline continued to chuckle. “Any other requests?”
    “Yes. That you work with me on the website. I’ll need to study the template; then I’ll update and add links. You’ll need to supply the pictures of quilts you’ve made or repaired, your studio, a price list—” Rodney stopped when Caroline held her hand up.
    “I meant food requests. I make a mean pot roast.”
    “Oh.” Rodney smiled sheepishly. He’d kicked into autopilot on this new project, a habit he thought he’d broken. In his excitement to work on Caroline’s website, he’d forgotten about his diet restrictions. Good