Gil arched a brow, sat back and checked the board. “What aren’t I seeing?”
“Opportunity.” Ozzy casually lounged against the front of the hardware store. “Sometimes it’s best to take the easy move while you can.”
Gil frowned, his dark blond eyebrows Vee-ing. “I don’t... Oh, wait. There it is.” Gil clicked one checker straight into place. Harvey smiled, snatched up the die and rolled, before knocking Gil’s blot into the center of the board.
“Hang on.” Gil straightened in the low hardback chair. “I thought—”
“I said sometimes,” Ozzy said. “It’s luck and strategy, remember. You should be looking at his pieces just as much as you do your own. And now—”
“Game over,” Harvey announced sweetly and moved his final checker into the winning spot.
Gil deflated, his shoulders slumping. The mayor sagged back in his seat.
“Sorry, kid.” Harvey winked.
If Gil took offense to the moniker Harvey had tagged him with decades before, he didn’t let on. Instead, Ozzy watched as irritation was quickly replaced by acceptance. “Obviously, I need more practice.”
“Only one person in this town’s ever bested me consistently,” Harvey said.
“I’m guessing it wasn’t my father,” Gil said and got to his feet. Something in his tone caught Ozzy off guard. Not just Gil’s tone. It wasn’t often that Gil mentioned the former mayor and town patriarch, either by name or inference.
“Your father was never particularly interested in the game,” Harvey confirmed. “He used the time as an excuse to smoke those cigars of his and drink Scotch.”
“Given those cigars are part of what killed him, he should have paid closer attention to the board,” Gil said. “So, who did beat you?”
“Who do you think?” Harvey jerked a thumb at Ozzy, who felt his face go hot. “Not every time, mind you. Boy had his own learning curve. You know he competed at the state level through high school, right?”
“I...” Gil frowned, as if this was indeed news to him.
Never mind the fact that Ozzy had made the town paper, as well as the ones in the surrounding areas. He’d even been interviewed for the Monterey news station. “Competed,” Ozzy emphasized. “I didn’t win.”
“Winning isn’t everything.” Harvey began to reset the board and gave them a pointed look. “Don’t you go downplaying your accomplishments, Oz. You made it to the state finals two years running. That’s nothing to sneeze at.”
“No one’s sneezing,” Ozzy replied. His mother still had his finalist trophies sitting on their own shelf in her living room.
“Seeing as I’ve been beat. Again.” Gil moved to go. “I’ll see you for another game next week, Harvey. Oz? Do you have a minute?”
This day was chock-full of surprises. “Yeah, sure. I’ll take black this time, Harvey.” Ozzy shoved his hands into his pockets and followed Gil a few feet away. When the mayor pivoted toward him, he had that familiar determined look in his eyes. “What’s up?”
“I heard you went up to greet the new construction supervisor. It probably should have been me, but I wasn’t expecting—”
“She was early. Wanted to get settled in before she got to work.”
“She?” Gil was quick, but not quick enough that Ozzy didn’t catch the flash of surprise—or was that shock—on his face. “Jo Bertoletti’s a woman?”
Ozzy pressed his lips tight. If Gil didn’t know Jo was a woman, he was really in for a surprise when he got a look at her. Still, it wasn’t typical for Gil to be caught off guard. Clearly Gil wasn’t at the top of his game—in more ways than one. “She is indeed. Looked ready to get down to work, if you ask me.”
“It’s funny, it never even occurred...” Gil scrubbed a hand across his forehead. “Okay, that’ll make things interesting. How did you find her?”
“I drove straight up Monarch Lane.”
Gil snort-laughed, which set Ozzy’s nerves on edge. Since when did his jokes land with Gil? “I found her impressive, actually. If you really want my opinion.”
“Of course I do. You’re a good judge of character, Ozzy. It’s not going to be an easy job, supervising this project. Especially if we’re going to push to still get it done on schedule.”
Ozzy knew what Gil was asking. He was wondering how much of a pushover Jo Bertoletti might be. Ozzy couldn’t wait for Gil to find out the answer to that himself. “I think if you let her do her job everything’s going to be fine. She doesn’t strike me as someone who likes to be micromanaged.” But Ozzy would bet good money Jo was used to people at least attempting it.
“I’ll take that under advisement,” Gil agreed as behind them, Harvey cleared his throat. “Wait. Before I go, Oz, there’s something else I’d like to ask you. I didn’t know you played backgammon.”
“I also have my grandfather’s old comic collection.” They could play this game of “I didn’t know” all day.
“I was thinking—could you maybe help me learn to play? I mean, really play and not just pretend to know what I’m doing?”
“You want me to teach you to play a game?” Ozzy had the sudden urge to check for hidden cameras. His radar pinged and for a moment, he was back in high school, the geek who had just been asked to sit at the cool kids’ table before becoming the victim of some prank. “Why?”
“I told you,” Gil said. “And, to be honest, I kind of like the routine Harvey and I have gotten into. Taking a walk after lunch to come here. It’s helping with my physical therapy, too.” He pointed to the leg he’d seriously injured last Christmas during a fire at his office. A fire he’d almost died in partly because of his proposed cuts to the local fire department. If there was one thing Gil seemed to excel at, it was learning lessons the hard way.
“I guess I can give you a few pointers.” Ozzy considered his schedule. “I’ll be off next Monday afternoon and Tuesday. Either of those days work for you?”
“Tuesday would be great. Come by the office? I can order lunch in.”
“How about I bring lunch. I’ll be there around twelve thirty?”
“Perfect. Thanks, Oz. I appreciate it.” Gil slapped a hand on Ozzy’s arm and walked away, leaving Ozzy standing there, blinking.
“What just happened?” he asked aloud.
Harvey chuckled as Oz took Gil’s vacated seat. “You’ve never seen someone try to make friends before?”
“Not since my playground days,” Ozzy muttered.
“Take it for what it is. Gil’s reaching out. Ah, thanks, Shelly.” He accepted the can of soda one of his employees had brought out. “You’re a peach.”
“No problem. Hey, Ozzy.”
“Hey.” Ozzy didn’t look up at first, but when he did, he found the twentysomething redhead watching him with one of those secret female smiles he could never interpret. Tight jeans, an equally tight green T-shirt with the hardware store logo, she also wore a black apron around her waist to keep her notepad, pencils, pens and tape measure handy. She was cute, with freckles dusting her nose and bright blue eyes that were clearly saying something. Instead of attempting to interpret that something, however, he found himself thinking of another pair of eyes he’d looked into early this morning. Gold-flecked amber eyes that carried humor and confidence. Teasing eyes.
Tempting eyes.
“Do you want a soda, Ozzy?” Shelly asked. “I can bring you one, no problem.”
“Ah, no, thanks.” He cleared his throat as images of Jo Bertoletti swam through his mind and, oddly, cleared his foggy brain.
“Water, then?” Shelly shoved her hands in her front pockets, rocked forward on her heels. “Or coffee? I could go get you one.”
“Leave the man alone, Shelly,” Harvey admonished. “Water would be fine, I’m sure. Right, Ozzy?”
“Yeah, sure, water’s great. Thanks.” Instead of smiling after her, h
e frowned across the board at the older man. “Am I missing something?”
“Yes. As usual.”
“Does this have to do with that bet thing? About Monty and Sienna’s upcoming wedding?”
He kept his tone casual, as if he wasn’t fishing for details and focused his attention firmly on the board as he arranged the black pieces for a new game.
“Surprised you’re so calm about the whole thing,” Harvey said. “It’s not every man in this town who has a price on his head.”
“A price?” He’d almost squeaked.
“Last I heard there are four eligible females hoping for an invite to the wedding from you. Word is Ursula started a pool for betting on who you’ll ask.” Harvey shrugged. “That’s just the rumor, though.”
The very idea he was the focus of some feminine betting pool left him rather unsettled. That was the kind of thing that happened to other guys, not to Ozzy.
“I’m not saying anything,” Harvey declared with far-too-innocent eyes. “But if I were to speculate, I’d say you aren’t on the wrong track with Shelly.” When Ozzy didn’t respond, Harvey chortled. “You’ve transformed yourself, Ozzy. You’re a new man. New and improved according to what I’m hearing. And you’re a firefighter now. A hero, day in and day out. That’s its own kind of feminine appeal.”
That phrase new and improved didn’t sit particularly well. “I’m the same Ozzy I’ve always been.” The packaging was a bit different that was true, but on the inside he’d like to think he was still the decent, hardworking guy he’d always been. He felt like an idiot for even dwelling on it.
He was proud of what he’d accomplished. Because of the weight loss, he’d been able to go after dreams that had been out of reach for most of his life. But that didn’t change who he was. His character, his principles... Why didn’t people understand that?
“Fact is,” Harvey said, “we’re all proud of you, Ozzy. Making those changes really shows what you’re made of. You can’t hold it against some who maybe want to do more than just appreciate in silence. Something that might lead to even more changes in your life? Hint, hint.”
When Shelly returned with his bottle of water, he accepted it with a friendly smile. “Thanks, Shelly.”
“Anytime, Oz. I mean that.” She turned and flipped her wavy hair over her shoulder.
Darn it! Harvey was right. Opportunity was walking away. “Hey, Shelly?” He pushed to his feet and nearly knocked the backgammon set over. “Sorry, Harvey.” The older man grunted as Shelly turned expectant eyes on him. “Ah, Shelly, I was wondering, they’re starting a retrospective of Bogart and Bacall films this weekend. Would you be interested in—”
“I’d love to,” Shelly blurted. “I’m off tomorrow. You are, too, right?”
“Yes, I am.” Was his work schedule common knowledge? “I’ll meet you at the theater at six? We can get something to eat after. If you want.”
“I’ll want.” Her smile took up most of her face. “Sounds great. I’ll see you then.”
“Huh.” Ozzy watched her head back into the hardware store.
Harvey drank some of his soda and pointed at the board. “You ready to play?”
“Absolutely.” Ozzy glanced over to where Shelly had vanished.
He had a date with a nice lady, the kind of woman he’d once never had the guts to ask out. This was good, he told himself as he waited for Harvey to make his first move. He was making progress.
Progress. A date with kind, sweet Shelly who worked at the hardware store. It was exactly what he’d always wanted. Regret niggled at the back of his mind.
Wasn’t it?
CHAPTER THREE
THERE WERE FEW certainties in life, but one thing Jo had never counted on was being kicked awake by a baby-to-be. Was it possible, she wondered, as she shifted in bed, that the kid could tell time?
Was kicked even the right word? The persistent fluttering going on in her stomach struck her as both reassuring and disconcerting. It just felt...weird. She reached behind her, yanked the pillow she’d shoved against the small of her back free and gave silent thanks that for the first time in ages she felt as if she’d finally slept. Except now she had to get out of bed. She flopped out an arm.
Ugh.
If she had to bet money, she’d say her baby was going to be a champion swimmer. Or more likely a kicker for the NFL. Jo pressed her palm against her belly, her lips curving in a sleepy smile before twinges of panic tickled her nerves. What did she know about kids’ swimming or sports lessons? Or even school, for that matter?
Other than math and science, she’d barely paid attention when she’d been a student herself, and she certainly hadn’t played sports. She’d much preferred spending time with her grandfather at construction sites or in his office. After he passed, she’d found her true home at the sites she worked. Some would say she had no roots, but she’d just made hers mobile. In a matter of months, she was going to have to start evaluating the education options for a brand-new life that would be utterly and completely relying on her.
“Stop it.” She pressed her fingers into her temples. She’d only make herself sick staying on this endless carousel of uncertainty. She’d figure it out. She always did. This was just one more challenge to overcome.
“And with that, it’s time to get another day started.” Jo had never been one to lounge around in bed, not even on holidays and especially not on weekends. Once she was awake, she was full steam ahead, and as usual, she had a list of things to do that needed to get tackled if construction was going to resume next week.
She shoved herself up, sat on the edge of the bed for an extra few moments, waiting for the morning sickness that had finally abated to take another swipe at her. She’d been pretty lucky in that regard. The few weeks of discomfort and nausea hadn’t hung around as long as the websites she’d visited had suggested. Of course, there were days Jo was convinced she’d willed it away. She didn’t have time to feel sick.
That didn’t mean, however, that she moved as efficiently as she used to. Not for the first time, it felt as if she had to readjust to whatever her body had done overnight. No two days felt the same. She hadn’t anticipated feeling quite so out of control where her body was concerned, and for a control freak like Jo, it was not something she planned to get used to.
It took her a while to get showered and dressed and peruse the meager contents of her refrigerator to rustle up breakfast. She topped the last leftover slice of pizza she’d had delivered from town—hey, it had veggies on it—with hot sauce and grabbed a bottle of water and her cell before heading over to the construction office to finish the last bit of organizing she’d tackled after Leah left yesterday.
Once outside, Jo took a long, deep breath and released it. She could definitely get used to that sea-kissed air every time she exited her house. Tucking her sweater tighter around her, she took a beat to greet the day. She walked the short distance to the trailer office, but before she pulled open the door, she found herself drawn to the thin patch of dawn light peeking in through the grove of eucalyptus trees. Leah had been right to entice her here. It was time Jo expanded her horizons. Besides, as her grandfather had always advised, You should see the space from every perspective.
She shoved her cell into her back pocket. Munching on her pizza, she ducked under the remnants of yellow tape. The widened path had erased a significant swath of trees and shrubs, enough to provide the soon-to-be-built structure the perfect view of the cliffs and ocean. A nature walk would be created, one that would include a natural barrier of protection along the cliff’s edge and a meticulously integrated path through and around the remaining flora and particularly the eucalyptus and redwoods.
A twig snapped. Jo swung around, heart jackhammering as she frantically scanned the tree line. The shadow that moved out from the thick trunks seemed oddly calm as the sun continued its rise beyond it.
&
nbsp; “Sorry,” the man said, offering a tight flash of a smile. She winced, tried to see through the playing shards of light. “Didn’t mean to spook you.”
She took in his lean frame, the shoulder length dark brown hair, and the way he shoved his hands in the pockets of his worn jeans, rocking back on his heels as he looked at her.
“The site is still closed,” Jo said, planting her feet hard in the ground. “Any particular reason you’re lurking?”
“Revisiting some ghosts,” he said after a quick glance toward the ocean. “Didn’t realize anyone would be up here.”
“Jo Bertoletti.” She didn’t offer her hand. She had the feeling that maintaining her distance wasn’t a bad idea. “I’m the new construction supervisor.”
The man’s eyebrows went up and after a moment, he nodded, ducked his chin. “So they’re going ahead with the build even after the accident.”
Jo could barely hear him, as if he was speaking more to himself than to her. “They are. Were you on the previous crew?”
“No.” His answer did nothing to make her feel better. “Just passing through. Heard about the trouble and got curious. You should be careful.” He gestured to the rocky ledge. “Cliffs like this can be dangerous.”
It seemed an odd comment to make. Was it a threat? The man started to walk away.
“I didn’t catch your name,” Jo called after him.
“I didn’t throw it.” He shouted the joke over his shoulder before he disappeared into the trees.
“Well, that was very strange.” Now Jo was the one muttering to herself as she shivered against a sudden chill. She shouldn’t have expected to be completely alone up here, but the fact that she hadn’t seen a sign of the man until she was well away from the main site had her nerves continuing to ping. She inhaled a calming breath, forcing the encounter out of her mind and her thoughts back to the task at hand: her job.
Having examined the designs, she could imagine the exterior of the sanctuary and education center butting right up to where nature refused to retreat, where butterflies would be drawn to during their migration season. She’d accepted this job because it came across as both a challenge and yet should be a fairly straightforward responsibility. That didn’t mean she took the task any more lightly than she did other jobs. But given the information she had on the forthright foreman and the hardworking crew, she’d be surprised if her stress level increased any more than normal.
Building a Surprise Family Page 4