Dire Threads Read Online Free PDF

was hard to see over the two of them, though. They sat on my lap.” He stood. I’m tall, but he had to look down to see into my face. His teasing grin made me wonder if he was telling the truth. If he was, my dogs had good taste in men. He untangled a rope looped through both collars, then held out his right hand. “Clay Fraser.”
    I let his warm hand engulf mine. “Willow Vanderling.”
    “You’re freezing.” He frowned toward the back of the room. “Your woodstove’s nearly out.”
    So it was. I turned on lights, strode to the stove, and tossed in a piece of firewood. The cider on the stove’s soapstone top still radiated heat. “Want some cider?”
    “Sounds good.”
    I poured us each a mug and passed him a plate of molasses cookies, my favorite recipe.
    “Your shop looks great,” he said, chowing down. “You’ve arranged everything the way I pictured it.”
    The way he pictured it? Understanding beginning to dawn, I dodged past bolts of cloth for a better look through my huge front windows at the words on his truck. Fraser Construction . “Did you have anything to do with the renovations here?” I asked.
    “Haylee described what you wanted, and I carried it out.”
    I had to admire Haylee’s nerve. The first time I ever heard about this building was after it had been renovated, when Haylee told me I had to fly up from New York to see this store that had just come on the market. I arrived the next day, and as Haylee must have planned, I’d known immediately that I’d needed to open the embroidery boutique I’d always dreamed of owning.
    In Threadville.
    I’d fallen in love with the empty store and with my dogs at first sight. I sternly told myself I wasn’t about to fall in love with any man at first sight.
    However, if I ever changed that rule, this might be the man I’d want to catch sight of. It was too late for first sight, I supposed, but I could fake it.
    Standing near this obviously strong and capable man, I felt brave enough to tackle anything. “Would you be interested in renovating my cottage, the one beside the hiking trail?”
    “Blueberry Cottage? Sure, if the inside’s anything like the outside.”
    “Falling into disrepair?” I prompted.
    “Architecturally important. It’s a great example of carpenter gothic.”
    Important, Blueberry Cottage? How dare Mike Krawbach deny me that building permit!
    Apparently, Clay knew about that, too. “I’ll help wangle permits. Krawbach gave Pete DeGlazier, Uncle Allen’s brother, a permit to build a gazebo upstream. That gazebo is on the flood plain. It’s also closer to the river than Blueberry Cottage is.”
    That figured. Mike’s real reason for rejecting my application had been to commandeer some of my land for outhouses.
    “We’ll go over Krawbach’s head,” Clay said.
    “You can do that?” No wonder Haylee kept this man a secret.
    “Mike was appointed zoning commissioner by the mayor, Irv Oslington. We’ll tell Irv about Mike’s favoritism.”
    I shoved the plate of cookies at Clay.
    He polished off the cookies and let the dogs lick his hands. “How did these two escape?”
    “Someone opened my gate.” My voice became hard. “Mike Krawbach, probably. I wish the hardware store wasn’t closed for the night. I need padlocks so he can’t let my dogs out again.”
    “In the evenings, the hardware store is more like a men’s club, but you can buy things. I’ll come with you.”
    I wasn’t used to leaning on anyone and would have to be very stern with myself about relying on Clay Fraser. “Okay,” I said, planning to be stern with myself later, like maybe tomorrow. I locked the dogs into my apartment and zipped my parka. “Did you renovate the downstairs apartment, too?” I suspected I knew the answer.
    Clay tilted his head like he was trying to figure something out. “Haylee relayed your instructions, and I followed them. Do you like it?” He opened the front door and held it for me.
    “It’s gorgeous, all