SETH ARRIVED AT Kylee and Mai’s house before his father. Deciding his old man must’ve gone fishing—he’d been talking about wanting to get out on the rivers and it wasn’t as if he was needed today—he walked through the rooms one last time, making sure everything was in order. Which it was. All it needed now was a final cleaning and polish, which was about to happen when the bright blue Highlander with The Clean Team written on it pulled up outside.
Megan Larson, who’d been a couple years behind him in school, jumped out, wearing a T-shirt with her business’s logo on the front and a pair of crisply pressed jeans.
“So, you finished ahead of schedule,” she said as she popped open the back of the Highlander and began pulling out a bucket, mop and various other tools. “Never thought that would happen.”
“You doubted me?”
“Not you,” she said. “But I’ve watched Kylee and Mai in action just choosing what movie to go to while standing in line. I figured you’d spend a third of your time in negotiations.”
“They were great clients.”
She laughed at that. “I’ll bet you say that about everyone.”
“Of course I do.” He helped her get the rest of the stuff out of the SUV. A toddler’s car seat was strapped down in the back seat. At the moment it was being used to hold a mesh bag of microrags.
Megan had dated Gabe for a few weeks, but since his goal had always been New York City, she’d ended up marrying a local guy shortly after high school. Jake Larson seemed to spend a lot of time at the casino while she’d attended Clearwater CC, taking business courses, because it was obvious that her husband, who was always into some crazy get-rich scheme he’d read about on the internet, was not going to be able to support a family on his own. Or at all.
She’d been three months pregnant when Jake had left town with the female partner in his latest venture, flipping houses after he’d cleaned out their savings account and maxed out their credit cards paying for seminars assuring him that he and his partner/lover would be the next HGTV stars. Leaving Megan with an empty bank account and creditors calling day and night until Quinn, who was still licensed to practice law in Washington, had written a cease-and-desist letter for what had been harassment. He’d also used some legal eagle stuff to extricate her from the expenses Jake had taken on after he’d run off, and he handled her divorce pro bono.
Megan had moved back in with her parents, and from what he’d seen, she was a lot happier than she’d been when married to the dickwad.
“I’m lucky that all my clients are good ones,” she said. “The ones who aren’t, I fire because they’re not worth the effort, you know?”
“I definitely know that.” Looking back on it, there’d been something sketchy about both couples who’d bailed on Herons Landing. But at the time he’d been so eager to get his hands on the house that he hadn’t paid enough attention to those inner alarm bells. He glanced around as he took the mop and a bucket stuffed with cleaning supplies from her. “Are you on your own today?” She ran a tight ship of five employees, was always on time and left a finished project so clean you could probably perform surgery on any of the floors or counters.
“Betty’s coming right after she gets back from taking her mom to the doctor for her annual exam. But, unlike some contractors on the peninsula, you leave a house so clean, I could’ve polished it up by myself.”
They both turned as Brianna’s convertible pulled into the driveway. She jumped out, dressed more like the native she was in a T-shirt, khakis and a pair of bright sneakers that suggested she’d paid a visit to the Dancing Deer.
“I thought we were meeting at your place,” he said, trying not to notice how her breasts bounced beneath that gray shirt as she ran over to them.
“We are. I was just passing by and saw the truck, and...” She paused, narrowed her eyes. “Megan?”
“About time you made it home,” Megan said. “I heard you’d come back and hired our local hunk with a tool belt to fix up that old haunted house.”
“Geez,” Seth complained.
“If you’re going to have to deal with all the hassles of remodeling, it’s a plus to have a good-looking hottie to watch hammering and other building guy stuff.” She flashed Seth a smile. “And you don’t have to look so embarrassed. You know you’re hotter than Sven Olson, who’s the only other contractor in town.”
“I hope so. Sven’s thirty years older.” And was bald with a beer gut.
“Age doesn’t necessarily matter,” Megan said. “I’d do George Clooney in a heartbeat.”
“He’s married. And a father of twins,” Seth pointed out.
“True. But since the chances of me ever having an opportunity with the guy are slim to none, if you don’t mind, I’m going to overlook the wife and kids in order to maintain a good fantasy life.”
If there was one thing Seth didn’t want to talk about, it was any woman’s fantasy life.
“So, you saw the truck, and...?” he asked Brianna, trying to steer the direction back to the original topic.
“I thought I’d stop and talk to whoever it belonged to. I don’t mind changing beds and cleaning bathrooms, but I realized that if I want any kind of life that doesn’t revolve totally around business, I’m going to need someone to do a deeper clean, probably once a week.”
“Well, you’re in luck. Because I’m your girl,” Megan jumped in. “And you don’t have to worry about it being such a big place, because I have five women working for me now, so there will be no problem handling it. You’re going to be a B and B, right?”
“Right.”
“In the middle of the day guests will be mostly out and about, which means we won’t be disturbing them. I’ll wait to give you an actual quote until I see how many rooms you and Tool Guy here end up with, but I think you’ll find me reasonable.”
“The Clean Team is the best on the peninsula,” Seth said. “Probably the state.”
“Make that the entire Pacific Coast, and you won’t get any disagreement from me,” Megan said with a bold, strong laugh. Then turned thoughtful. “Do you think you could use any help with the daily stuff? Like dusting, making those beds you were talking about, light housekeeping?”
“I might. Especially in the beginning because although I grew up cooking with Mom, I think I’ve got a pretty big learning curve ahead of me turning out a B and B worthy breakfast for a crowd.”
“I sure as hell couldn’t pull off it off,” Megan said. “Then again, I figure that’s what Cops and Coffee’s for. Anyway, I know a girl who’s attending the college and needs to make some extra money. She couldn’t commit to what I needed because one of the reasons I keep everyone happy is that I’ve got all my employees and jobs tightly scheduled. But if you were willing to let her be flexible during the week, working around her classes, it could turn out to be a good deal for both of you.”
“That sounds appealing,” Brianna said, reaching into her pocket and pulling out one of the brand-new business cards she’d gotten on her trip to Seattle. “Let me give it some thought. Meanwhile, if you can fit in a project as big as Herons Landing, that would be great.”
“I’ll fit it in if I have to hire more people.” Megan pocketed the card and handed Brianna one of her own. “Not only have I always loved that place, taking care of it would be a feather in my cap and undoubtedly draw in even more business.”
“Super. What a lucky coincidence to run into you.” She turned toward Seth. “I’ll meet you over there in about ten, fifteen minutes?”
“Works for me,” he agreed. “I’m pretty much finished up here.” He took a spare key off his ring. “Just lock up when you’re done,” he told Megan. “And thanks a bunch.”
“Thank you,” she said. “I always love doing your homes. They’re like polishing up a jewel box.” She looked over at Brianna, then back at him. Then back at Brianna. “That poor house has been through so much. But now that you’ve come back home, all the problems were leading up to you two working together. I know you’re going to do amazing things together.”
As color drifted into Brianna’s cheeks, Seth wondered if she could possibly be contemplating some of the amazing things he’d been dreaming about.
Which then had him wondering, what would happen if she had been?
He’d locked his emotions in a deep freeze for over two years. But now, as he watched her walk back to her convertible, Seth could feel the ice melting.
* * *
“I WANT HERONS LANDING to feel like a sanctuary,” Brianna said as she and Seth entered her house. And didn’t that just give her a thrill, thinking that, after all these years, it truly was her house? “People will be coming here to get away from their daily lives. So, they should feel any stress they’re carrying just melt away the minute they walk in the door.” She heard the familiar sound announcing the arrival of the ferry.
“Of course, I’m lucky to have a head start,” she said. “I was excited and admittedly a bit apprehensive about taking this on, but coming over here on the ferry, looking at the water and mountains, just made anything seem possible.”
“It can be like going back in time,” Seth agreed. “Which can admittedly get a little frustrating when you’re in a hurry.”
“That hurrying part of life is what I want my guests to forget.” She walked into where they’d planned the kitchen to be. “Mom says that our gray skies and evergreens bring out green and blue tones in colors. So she suggested balancing soft but warm whites and grays in the cabinetry and wall colors. Mixing cool and warms.”
“Definitely make a difference from the deeper colors the original owners would have had.”
“I love Victorian homes,” Brianna said. “But I have to admit that all the oversize furniture, ornaments, heavy drapes, lace and dark colors would have been overly depressing.” Her Girl Scout camp had toured one of the local Victorians back when she’d been in middle school, a few months before Zoe had arrived, and even then, although she’d come to understand many people found the interior style comforting and elegant, it had given her claustrophobia.
“I’ve been studying kitchens on Pinterest.”
“Of course you have.” There was something in his tone that had her glancing up from where she’d been imagining an island. Something not at all positive.
“There are a lot of good ideas there,” she said.
“I know.” He dragged a hand through his hair. “Zoe bombarded me with links to photos when I was fixing up our place while she was in Afghanistan.”
Damn. Brianna had accepted that having feelings for her old crush could be a problem. But not if she kept her thoughts and emotions to herself. If she stayed professional, he’d never have a clue and they’d be able to work together as a team.
But already the simplest topic was turning out to be a conversational minefield. And wasn’t that a horrible metaphor considering what had happened to the person who’d always been at the center of their triangle?
“We have to talk about it,” she said.
“I thought we were.” Seth jammed his hands into the front pockets of his jeans and glanced around. “Blending warm and cool tones to balance the greens and blues. Got it.”
“Not the color palette. Though yes, it’s going to be important. But we have to be okay about working together.”
“We’ve already agreed on that.”
“In principle. But you can’t deny that the reality is already turning out to be more difficult.” When he failed to respond to that comment, Brianna decided this was no time for polite evasion and beating around bushes. “How are you doing? Honestly?”
“I told you, we’re crazy busy. I have volunteer work I enjoy and that keeps me out of trouble. I talk with your brother every night, and visit my in-laws every week, which isn’t going to be happening anymore because they’re leaving for Arizona.”
“That’s a surprise.”
“Yeah. I wasn’t expecting it, either. Helen’s brother turned his restaurant over to one of his kids, so now he and his wife and Helen and Dave are going to be spending their retirement traveling.”
“How do you feel about that?”
He shrugged. “It’s their life. I just want them to be happy. And it’s not like I can’t find another way to spend those nights. The truth is, the last year I’ve turned down a lot more jobs than I’ve taken on.”
“That’s a list of what you do,” she pointed out. “Not how you’re doing.”
He gave her another of those long looks. “Dumping personal stuff on you could get in the way between us. Maybe even screw up work.”
“Or make it easier, because working as closely as we’ll be is going to require honesty on both our parts. But that’s not why I asked. I asked because Zoe was my friend. I loved her, too, Seth. And I care how you’re doing because she loved you.”
“Okay.” He rubbed the back of his neck. Rolled his shoulders, then looked up at the ceiling she’d been picturing covered with a warm white beadboard, as if seeking answers. Which apparently didn’t come, because he took a deep breath, blew it out and cursed.
“The truth is, I’m fucked up. Everyone keeps telling me it’ll get better with time. But what the hell do they know? It’s been two years, and sometimes, when I’m out washing my truck, or Zoe’s car—”
“You kept her car?”
She saw his jaw clench. “Yeah.” His hard look asked her if she had a problem with that.
“It’s a cute car. I love the red. And I’m sorry for interrupting.” And wasn’t that an understatement? She was trying to help here. Not criticize his life choices. “What about when you’re out washing it?”
“Not always, but sometimes I see the notification officers walking up. Just like that day.”
“A flashback.”
“Yeah. I guess. But it seems real. Like that Groundhog Day movie. Which, since you’re asking for honesty, is pretty much what my life’s become. But without the romantic ending.”
“I can understand how routine could be helpful, but also keep you stuck in time. Maybe you should try therapy. Do you think seeing them could be a sign of PTSD?”
Another mistake from the flash of anger, and something else in his dark eyes. “I went to a therapy group and hated it because all anyone wanted to talk about was feelings. Because PTSD doesn’t happen to guys who remodel houses. It happens to men and women who put themselves through hell so the rest of us can stay home eating burgers, drinking craft beer and living our lives without worrying about being blown to bits at any moment.”
Oh, wow. There was more than pain and anger here.
“You’re feeling guilty.”
“Wouldn’t you?”
She managed a faint smile at that. “I’m Catholic. Guilt is in my blood. Like a virus.”
She watched as his shoulders relaxed. Ever so slightly. “Zoe wrote that in her journal. Not the guilt thing, but about being Greek. It was a journal I didn’t know about. One she’d written while away at that Greek summer camp her parents sent her to.”
“I remember that. She came home and said she’d had a great time.” But she’d been unusually quiet for a couple weeks afterward, Brianna remembered now. “Did you find the journal after she, well...”
“Helen asked me to go through her stuff and see what I wanted to keep,” he said, saving her from having to say that horribly fatal word.
“That couldn’t have been easy.” How about terrible?
“No shit, Sherlock.” He shook his head. Took off his Harper Construction cap and swept his fingers through his hair. “Sorry.”
“You don’t have to apologize.” This was about him. Not her. She might not be able to hammer a nail into a two-by-four. She might not be able to hang Sheetrock or tile a roof. And she definitely couldn’t bring his wife and her friend back. But she’d always had a talent for soothing troubled waters. Which, hopefully, she could do for him.
“I should have been there. In the war,” he said.
Deciding that using soft soap wasn’t the way to get through this conversation, Brianna opted for bluntness. “And how would that have changed the outcome? When she’d have still gone into the Army?”
“She wouldn’t have had to. I would’ve sent money home for her to go to school.”
“She’d already determined to do it her way. And we both know that when Zoe got an idea into her head, there was no changing it.”
“She said that in her journal. But it’s a husband’s job to protect his wife.”
“Even if you had been in the Army, even if, by some miraculous chain of events, you’d been in that Kabul hospital, you couldn’t have protected her from what happened. The only thing that might have changed is that your parents would’ve lost their only son and your mother would have a gold star hanging in her window.”
He gave her a hard look. “You’re tough.”
“I guess I am.” Even knowing her skills of persuasion, Brianna was a bit surprised to discover that she could be. She’d always been a soother, not a fighter. “About people I care about... You were telling me about how angry it makes you when people tell you it gets better with time.”
“Yeah, I guess I was. Which, by the way, your brother doesn’t do, so I appreciate that along with the burgers and beer. But FYI, they’re flat out wrong because it’s not getting any better. It’s all I can do to drag myself through the day. If I hadn’t had people counting on me to finish their jobs, I just might have said the hell with it all—”
Alarm shot through her. “Are you suggesting—”
“No.” He shook his head. Closed his eyes for a moment. Brianna could almost envision the word cloud swirling above his head as he carefully sorted out his emotions, choosing ones to most safely frame his response.
“I’m not going to say there weren’t weeks, even months, when it was tempting,” he admitted. “In the beginning. But I knew Zoe would never forgive me.” Brianna was not surprised that she’d be his first reason. Zoe Robinson had always been first place both in his mind and heart. And probably always would be, she reminded herself firmly.
“I could also see, even from the bottom of the pit I was in, that I’d break my mom’s heart if I took the easy way out, and there’s no way I’d ever do that.”
“And now?”
“Now I don’t think about it. Or talk about it, even with your brother, because, well...”
“He’s a guy,” she guessed, even as she knew Quinn, especially, would be an empathetic listener.
“Yeah. And since my mom’s going through her own problems right now, there’s no way I’m going to dump more family drama stuff on her. And then there’s Kylee and Mai, who are counting on me to finish their house for their wedding. Which I just did.”
“And yay for you for that. Especially since while you were doing that, I bought a dress for the wedding. And, bringing out my inner tough girl, I’m telling you that it would tick me off if I couldn’t wear it because you decided to commit suicide, which would result in the wedding being called off, which, in turn, could cause Kylee and Mai to lose their chances of adopting, which would then result in some child not being able to grow up in a loving family.”
“Wow. Not only did you use the forbidden S word everyone has been tiptoeing around, you also played the guilt card.”
She folded her arms. “No one plays the guilt card better than we Catholics do. We’ve had a lifetime of practice.”
“Now you’re being smug.”
She opened her eyes wide. Splayed a hand across her chest. “Who? Me? Smug?”
“Yeah. Tough and smug, though if you’re serious about staying—”
“I opened a construction account at the bank today, so I’d say I definitely am.”
“Then you could be right about getting things between us out in the open.”
“That’s always better than keeping stuff inside,” she said without hesitation. “And feel free to dump on me whenever you want without worrying about it getting in the way of working together. When I came up with the idea of coming home, I automatically pictured you doing the work. It never occurred to me to hire anyone else.”
“Because Harper Construction is the best restoration contractor in the state.” The spark of pride gave her hope that things weren’t as dire as they sounded. “Though there is this guy, Lucas Chaffee, down on the Oregon Coast, who’s good,” he tacked on.
“Who’s not as good as you.”
That drew a faint smile, although his eyes remained so, so sad. “We’ve never competed head-to-head in any kind of build-off, so I guess we’ll never know. For sure.”
“I’ve got the man I want.” And always had, not that still being drawn to him was at all appropriate right now. Especially after what he’d just told her about how much pain he was still carrying. Grief, she thought, remembering the elderly lady with her husband’s ashes, took its own time to overcome. “And I’m sorry I’ve been such a bad friend.”
“How?”
“I always thought of Zoe as my best friend,” Brianna said. “But you two were a pair for so many years that she would have wanted me to have been there more for you. I’d like to say I figured you had male friends to make up for your loss, but having four brothers, I should’ve realized that guys don’t talk about personal stuff like women do. If you and I had kept in touch better, we could have had this conversation sooner.”
Sooner and, if necessary, often. She’d long given up on the dream of Seth ever loving her. But she could have helped him.
“I probably wouldn’t have been ready before,” he admitted.
“And now?”
“I guess I am. But I do have one question.”
“Okay.”
“Did you ever have a thing for me?”
“What?” The question had hit like a bolt of lightning from the clear blue sky. At the same time, although she wasn’t about to complicate things by admitting to that, lying would be hypocritical after insisting he be honest. So Brianna did the only thing she could think of while an icy fog rolled through her mind. She hedged.
“I doubt there was a girl in Honeymoon Harbor that didn’t have a thing for you sometime growing up.”
“Seriously?”
She laughed at his surprise. “Seriously. Partly because you looked so hot in those shoulder pads and tight football pants. I guess you were too starry-eyed over Zoe to notice.”
He blinked. Slowly. Once. Twice. A third time, reminding Brianna of the great horned owl her brother Aiden had once found with a broken wing. He’d risked his hand being mangled to wrap it in his sleeping bag, then taken it to the Northwest Raptor and Wildlife Sanctuary, where he and Brianna had visited every day until the owl healed and was sent back into the woods.
“You could’ve probably had any girl at Honeymoon Harbor High. But we all knew that you and Zoe were a perfect match.” They’d moved through high school and even Zoe’s college years as if they lived in their own bubble of happiness.
“No relationship is perfect,” he countered. “But I loved her.”
“There’s not a person in Honeymoon Harbor who doesn’t know that. And no one will judge you when you decide to move on with your life.”
“It’d probably get a lot of people off my back,” he said. “But I’m not in the market for a new relationship. You realize with all the time we’ll be spending together, they might start talking about us as possibly being a couple.”
“You must’ve worked with other women clients.”
“Sure. But most of them have been married. Or older. You’re single. And sexy.”
Wasn’t he full of surprises today? She glanced down at her shirt, khaki pants and sneakers. “You think?”
“Yeah. I do. But you don’t have to worry, because I’m not sixteen. I can control my hormones.”
She’d wanted to know how he was doing. To comfort him. How on earth had they gotten on hormones? “Um. That’s good to know. I guess.”
He lifted a brow. “You guess?”
She was not having this conversation. Not until she had time to sort it through. Brianna was not an impulsive person. She was thoughtful. She planned. Even though her idea to buy Herons Landing seemed like a spur-of-the-moment thing, she’d fantasized about it most of her life. And look, she was spending hours fussing over color palettes, instead of, as her mother kept suggesting, going with her instincts.
Which right now were telling her to jump Seth Harper and find out exactly how sexy she was.
Wrong choice. Wasn’t it?
“I think it’s best we just get back to work,” she said, suddenly realizing that as they’d been talking, they’d been inching forward until the toes of her new turquoise-and-lime-green shoes were nearly touching the toes of his scuffed work boots. He was not only in jumping range, all she’d have to do was go up on her toes, just the least little bit, and press her lips against his, and...
Do. Not. Go. There.
“Work,” she reminded them both before things got dangerous. “So, I was reading about kitchens. And what colors stimulate appetites. Turns out they’re red, yellow and orange.”
“So, you’re planning to open a McDonald’s in Herons Landing?”
She laughed, relieved to see that he’d lightened up, and hoped that she might have had something to do with his change of mood. “No. And although my stove actually comes in red, orange or yellow, I opted for the Provence blue. Many more formal restaurants use that color because it’s calming.”
“It seems you’d want people eager to start out their vacation adventures, rather than hang around the house all day.”
“I do. But not everyone’s a morning person, so I want to ease them into their day.” She reached into the case she’d put next to the blueprints on the plywood board balanced across two sawhorses. “I was considering sage green, but I’m so in love with the color of the stove, I decided to go with a bluish gray for the cabinets.”
“That’ll work with the water and fog,” he said, looking at her paint chip and the brochure for the range. “And I can see how it’d be soothing. But during the winter it could get a bit depressing.”
“That’s why I decided to do this white subway tile,” she said, pulling out a piece. “I was thinking of doing it in a herringbone pattern, but that costs more because it uses more tile and might look busy. So I went with this one with a wavy edge for interest. It’s popular now, which could risk it becoming trendy, but it should be okay because it also dates back to New York subway tiles in the early 1900s, which makes it a classic.”
“You’re going to do all the walls in tile?”
The doubt in his tone confirmed that Seth was more than a builder. That he had a visionary eye. “No, that’d be too hard and cold. I was thinking either a creamy white shiplap, or painting one wall yellow.”
“The shiplap, if you’re going with the ceiling beadboard like Kylee and Mai’s, would be a lot of wood.”
“You’re right. Then it’s yellow. But not obnoxious fast-food yellow, but a soft, pale shade to brighten up gray days.” She pulled out another paint chip and held it up to the one for the cabinets. “I was going to go with all white dishes, but now that I’ve chosen this, I think I’ll have you put in some open shelves and I can use some blue-and-white plates.”
She could tell she’d lost him with that when he merely said, “Sounds great.” Then studied the brochure she’d put on the plywood. “That’s one helluva big stove.”
“Fifty-five inches,” she agreed. “But we’ve room, so why not use it? I thought we could have this space over here—” she tapped on the blueprint “—for a marble slab for rolling out dough. And a wooden countertop next to the sink for cutting fruits and vegetables.”
“We can do that.”
There was a lot of back and forth, but she didn’t mind because he knew the construction end of it, and she knew, with help from her mom, how she wanted the kitchen to look and function. The oven was, admittedly, a luxury, as was the matching hood, but she’d fallen in love with it and knew that it would make her happy every time she walked into her kitchen. Once again, she compared the satisfaction she’d felt in her old job with the exciting expectations of this renovation. She wasn’t so naive not to think there’d be unwelcome surprises and setbacks. She had, after all, watched all those HGTV makeover programs.
Besides, all those renovation challenges would be worth it. They’d also require her mind to stay fully engaged on the house, which in turn should keep her suddenly mutinous lady parts in check.
Or so Brianna told herself.