Free Beneath the Patchwork Moon (Hope Springs, #2) by Alison Kent Page A

over Luna’s head, beyond Angelo’s shoulder. “Seeing the place in this light, we may have gotten it wrong, thinking we’d have to raze the house.”
    And here, after saving it, she’d come to terms with losing it for the cause. “I thought you decided there wouldn’t be enough room for the center otherwise.”
    “That’s because we’re thinking about the plans as they are,” Will said. “Not as they could be.”
    “You want to keep talking in circles? Or maybe you could spell things out straight,” Angelo said.
    Luna rolled her eyes, but Will wasn’t fazed. Not surprising. In the months she’d known him, she had yet to see him ruffled, even when working on a ladder three stories high replacing Kaylie’s shutters.
    “Ditch the utilitarian schoolhouse look. Keep the homestead, farmhouse vibe. Build the center around it, and use the rooms already here for administration, or whatever.”
    Luna glanced from Will to Angelo, got a
don’t look at me—it’s your house now
expression in response.
    “It’s an interesting concept,” she said, turning her back on the grump to respond to Will. “What do you mean, utilitarian schoolhouse look?”
    His arched brow said she’d missed the obvious. “You’re building an arts center. Don’t you think putting some
art
into the
center
would help your cause?”
    He had a point. Still… “I don’t want to buy frills when the money would be better spent on the supplies. And the instructors.”
    “Thinking of aesthetics as frills is your first problem. You’re an artist. Why would you do that?”
    “I just told you why. It’s a
nonprofit
. We’re not made of money here.”
    “I’ll do you up a new design gratis. And I’ll toss in my hours with Ten for free.”
    “Why would
you
do
that?
”
    “Because I
am
made of money,” he said, taking off on a tour around the house.
    Luna wasn’t sure whether to follow, or to let him do whatever he was doing on his own. She’d wondered in the past about his roots, especially after the first time they’d met, when he’d told her he’d been raised by wolves. And the night he’d cooked for her she’d been made well aware that he wasn’t hurting financially. But this?
    “What do you know about him?” Angelo asked, cutting into her musings.
    “Just what I told you,” she said, keeping her thoughts to herself. “I met him a few months ago, the morning he came to work for Ten.”
    “Did you date him?”
    Not
Is he from here
or
Does he have family nearby
or
What’s with the haircut
? “I had dinner with him one night.”
    “Did you sleep with him?”
    And, of course. “That’s not any of your business.”
    “Embarrassed to admit that you did? Or that you didn’t?”
    “I’m not embarrassed about anything,” she said, crossing her arms as she looked up at him. “Except you being rude to and dismissive of Will.”
    He snorted. “My being rude is hardly anything new.”
    Nice to see he recognized that about himself. “No, but for some reason I keep forgetting.”
    “Because you want to civilize me?”
    “I’m no Saint Jude,” she said, and waited for another smart comeback.
    What she got instead was a confused frown, and after an uncomfortably long moment, “You think I’m a lost cause?” just as Will finished his tour and returned.
    “Well?” Luna asked, happy for the distraction. She wasn’t ready to analyze the emotion she’d seen on Angelo’s face.
    Will was nodding. “I think it’s doable.”
    “How much more is it going to cost me?” She wasn’t totally naive. Adding on to the house and the current structure would not come as cheap as the utilitarian concept Will eschewed, even with his throwing in the design and his hours for free. And especially since the house itself would make up such a small portion of the finished center.
    “That part’s up to Ten. I’m just the idea man.”
    “Didn’t take you long to come up with that one,” Angelo said.
    A shrug. A hair flip. A wolfish