I can’t let anything else distract me from that.
Not right now.
I’m leaning against the kitchen counter with my tablet, and I’ve tucked the estimates I’ve received behind it so I can scoop them up once the new contractor arrives. I sneer in disgust over some of the items. “Six thousand dollars to professionally clean the Oriental carpets? I rented a truck and I’ll end up paying half the price. You’re not making a fifty-percent markup on my client.” Using the pen I tucked behind my dark hair, I scratch the item off. “And another seven thousand for removing the wall-to-wall carpet? Give me a few days, the dumpster outside, and a box cutter and I’ll deal with it. After all, if I removed all that trash, the carpet will be nothing.”
“Not if you cut it up into small enough slices, no. I guess Covington wasn’t joking about the amount the two of you were being overcharged with your bids.”
I shake my head in disbelief. No, it’s not possible. I’m just imaging his voice since I was thinking about him earlier. I scratch off the item and say aloud, “New drywall in every single room? I don’t know enough about construction to know if the smells from down here would permeate the drywall upstairs, but there are those stains…?” I make a quick note to do some research online.
“If you’d turn around and ask me, I might be able to answer that for you,” Kody says calmly.
I whirl around, no longer able to blame my imagination for the sound of his voice.
And there he is. All six foot two of him leaning negligently against the front doorjamb in a blue chambray shirt with dark khaki pants that I take in with a single sweeping glance. With that quick perusal, I don’t miss the tool belt around his waist or the tablet beneath his arm.
When he steps inside, I want to be able to ignore the quiver around my heart when he says, “It’s been a long time, Meadow.”
Meadow
“What on earth are you doing here?” My heart aches at the mere sight of him, the same way it does every time it has since the night I told him Mitch and I were married.
When I stepped into my sister’s house last summer after Jed passed away and found Kody sprawled on her sofa, an easy grin on his face, all I could think was Leave. Fast. Before I succumbed to the same despicable behavior my husband did and threw myself at a man despite the ring I was still wearing on my finger.
No one but Rainey knew then the emotional upheaval that was occurring at home as I tried to process the emotions swirling inside. Mitch didn’t wound me with a onetime indiscretion that I might be able to forgive after clawing my way out of the hellish circle of pain. No, what Mitch did was life altering. And there I was, days after finding out, faced with the man who used to watch the Alaskan sun set over the trees with a look on his face that took my breath away. I was just short of rude to Kody, despite him losing one of his best friends. I went home and both laughed and cried because, damn him, he still managed amid his own grief to tease me enough to get that smile out of me.
Through Rainey, Maris, and Kara, I know his life turned out exactly how he imagined it. His brilliant imagination and incredible hard work put Laurence Construction on the map as one of the premier luxury custom home builders in not just the Pacific Northwest, but across the United States. Swallowing hard, I try to tamp down the jealousy I have no right to feel, recalling the amused stories they shared about Kody’s serial dating but “at the end they’re all friends.” Maris snickered.
“No kidding. Brad says it’s the strangest phenomenon,” Rainey laughed, oblivious to my grip on my wine stem, so hard I thought it would break.
His hand on my arm pulls me from a hundred flashbacks in an instant and instead sends chills racing down my spine. I deliberately take a step back, not missing the cool mask that drops down over his face. “I was with the guys when Rainey called Brad.”
Kody turns his back to me as he inspects the damage. I begin to fret. Damn, how much does he know? I’m about to open my mouth to ask when his next words stop me cold. “What a fucking disgrace. I spent twenty hours laying that backsplash. Each tile was imported from Italy. Well, that’s not important, now. We’ll find new sources. Did Covington get ahold of the insurance adjuster?”
“Wait, what? What do you mean ‘you’? What do you have to do with this house?”
“Meadow, don’t you know?”
“Know what?”
Turning slightly, his hand drifts down until it encases mine lightly. He gives it a gentle squeeze before saying, “One of the first construction jobs I worked on after I left Alaska that final summer was being part of this house build.”
I slap my free hand against his chest, hope returning in a flash so bright, I’m barely able to get out, “No way.”
The smile that still sets my heart pounding after seventeen years blooms on his face. “Way. Now, let’s do a walk-through of the damage to see what we can fix ourselves and what we’re going to need my crew for.” Pressing a friendly kiss to my forehead, he drops my hand and heads toward the stairs.
I don’t move, too startled by the uncomplicated affection Kody’s never demonstrated with me before, even when we were young and had nothing but sunsets and trees lying before us.
“Meadow?” His voice shakes me out of my trance. “Is something wrong?”
“No. Nothing. Let me just get the list I started.” I turn around to grab my clipboard and take a few deep breaths. Of course, with the stench still in the house, I immediately start coughing.
I hear a muffled curse. “Is something the matter?” Kody asks as I face him. He has one foot propped on the bottom step.
“I’m fine. You? Everything okay?”
“Trust me, there’s nothing that can’t be fixed over time. Are you ready?”
Inhaling a breath, this time not as deep, I nod.
“Then after you.” He gestures up the wide wooden staircase. “Thankfully the assholes didn’t trash this. I remember it took Dale, our site foreman, four months to get these custom-made. Let’s head upstairs.”
“Yeah. Let’s do that.” My voice is strained as I pass by Kody. Only I doubt it’s for the reason he thinks it is.
I just never imagined in my life there would be a time Kody Laurence would say those words to me in any context.
“Jed would be devastated if he could see this.”
“Why?” I ask. Kody and I are standing in front of a pair of shattered glass doors in one of the guest bedrooms that overlook Flathead Lake. The damage in my layman’s eye seemed to be minimal in this room, but hearing the heartache in Kody’s voice makes me concerned I missed something obvious.
“He loved this place from the moment he saw this view. We rented this place a few years back…”
“I remember, for one of your reunions. Rainey used to keep me up-to-date on how you were.”
“Did she? Remind me to give her hell later for not doing the same.” Confusing me with that cryptic remark, he confirms, “Yes. Thinking back, it was after Jed met Dean. Our trip here was a turning point in so many ways.”
I want to ask how, but I gave up the right the minute I said yes to another man. Especially when I’ve realized even way back to that very night, I experienced the first twinge of doubt.
“Now look where we are.” Carefully, I step over the broken glass to get a better view.
“Yes, look where we are, Meadow. Crazy we’ve come so far.” He leans against the other side of the ruined pane.
You have, but I don’t voice that. Instead, I ask, “I wonder what it was about this house that called to Jed.”
“I don’t know. He never said.” Kody runs a hand carefully around the frame of the door, frowning.
“Do you think it was because it was a part of you and he wanted to absorb that feeling for when he wasn’t with you?” My question obviously shocks him judging by the way he stills. Embarrassed, I step away from the breathtaking view and head back across the ruined carpet to the entrance. “Never mind. Let’s just do as much as we can so we can figure out what a
ll of this is going to cost.”
As I’m about to cross into the hall, I hear my name called out. I pause without turning around. “Yes?”
“I’d give up almost anything to know the answer, to be able to talk with Jed one last time to ask him that.” Measured steps bring Kody closer until I can practically feel the heat from his body wrap around me like a warm caress. “Maybe one day when the loss of him doesn’t feel as jagged as the glass in those panes, I’ll be able to figure it out.”
“I’m so sorry.” What else can I say?
“There are some days when…”
“When what?” I can’t help myself from asking.
“When all I can remember is the past. All I can see is his crazy face bellowing at me to throw an axe before a crowd of hundreds. I remember days of laughter and nights of dreams.” He faces the broken window once more, and the devastation on his face causes a pinch in the region of my heart. “Right now, I guess I’m still as shattered inside as that window.”
“Um, axe throwing?” Then I bite my lip. Crap. Totally the wrong thing to focus on.
That’s when I catch it—the small lip twitch. “I’m a world-champion axe thrower, Meadow. You don’t have to worry about needing any kind of weapon so long as I have an axe in hand,” he declares with enough arrogance to make me roll my eyes heavenward.
God save me from men who think they can do things better than women.
Feigning surprise, I arch my brows. “Oh please. Is that even a thing?”
“It totally is. I guarantee I could still kick some major ass if I were to compete in the World Axe Throwing League Championships.”
Deciding work can wait, I bait him by walking out of the room and calling over my shoulder, “Sure you could.”
The next thing you know, my elbow is caught in his strong fingers. “Why don’t I show you outside? It appears you don’t believe me, and I do have my tools in my truck. I know there’s a couple of axes in there.”
“Sure, why not?” I agree blandly.
“You don’t seem impressed.”
“Who? Me? I’m sure you’re going to try to totally blow me away with your manly skills, Kody.” What he’s not aware of is Brad taught both me and Rainey how to throw an axe so many years ago it’s second nature. I might not have thrown one during the Lumberjack Show in front of screaming crowds, but I’m our combined families’ reigning champ anytime we went on a trip to Zipline Adventures.
As Kody goes to get the weapons of his destruction, I permit myself a smirk, remembering how much it used to irritate Mitch when I would kick his ass. I just hope Kody’s a better loser.
Kody
What was I expecting after all this time? That Meadow would be so thrilled to see me, she would throw herself into my arms and profess her secret love after all these years? That after seeing me, we’d kiss passionately, strip naked, and have each other within minutes of my stepping inside Nature’s Song on the gross-smelling carpet that really needs to be ripped out as soon as possible? That our reunion would be just like in one of the romance novels you can’t pry out of my sister Amelia’s hands long enough to make her see the world around her?
Okay, maybe I fantasized a bit about that happening on the long drive from Portland to Bigfork, but the Meadow who greeted me is the Meadow who I had to charm a smile out of when one of my best friends died. And although my heart still flares with happiness every time I catch a glimpse of her face, why is there suddenly such a burning resentment burning next to it?
Because Meadow never truly saw me the way I saw her, that’s why.
Greta’s words taunt me as I wonder if there’s something of the girl in my memories. Or did the most important part of me die long before Jed and I never realized it until just now? No. I quickly disabuse that notion. That’s just not possible. I would have known; wouldn’t I?
Meadow and I make our way down the grand staircase and outside. “Hold up just a sec. I have a few hatchets in my car.”
“Were you planning on getting in some practice, or…”
Unsure of my footing, I answer her seriously. “Sometimes we need them for demo work.”
“Right. Got it.” Turning away from me, I’m blessed with a glimpse her willowy figure from behind. Carefully, I let out a measured breath. Get it under control before you do something stupid, I tell myself.
After a quick trip to my truck for a couple of small hatchets, I guide Meadow over to a compact wall of logs. “Since you’re so new at this, I’ll go first to demonstrate.”
She lets out a noncommittal hum. I hand her the smaller of the two axes, not wanting her to hurt herself.
Using the heel of my work boot, I drag it in the hard earth to mark the throw line. “It’s fairly simple, Meadow. Just like darts, really,” I encourage her, though there is so much more to it than that.
She negligently flips the axe over and over until she almost drops it. “So, you just kind of push it toward the wood?”
I wince, wondering how much time I’m going to have to spend grinding my axe blade back to its present sharpness. “Let me show you how it’s done. Lower your axe while I approach.”
After verifying she does what I ask, I jog toward the pile before hearing her cough into her hand. Her eyes are sparkling with unshed tears I can spot from twelve feet away. “Meadow, are you okay?” I call out.
She waves a hand. “Fine. Just got something in my eyes from being inside too long. I probably need something to get some fresh air, maybe get something to drink.”
That sparks an idea. “How about the loser buys lunch?” I toss off the challenge casually, remembering the old Meadow was feisty enough to pick up any gauntlet her sister tossed down.
She drops her head down so I can’t see her face, and I fear that’s it. The end. That Mitch Borneman didn’t just commit the sin of adultery but also killed the spirit of his wife, leaving the world—me—nothing but the husk of what was once there.
Then she flings her long dark hair back and curves her lips. “But what if I get lucky? After all, you don’t have cheering crowds shouting, ‘U-S-A,’ Kody.”
I arch a brow at her. “You know damn good and well I wasn’t some attention whore.”
“True. But you did admit it was way more fun when you beat Nick because he would get more annoyed by it.”
I love the fact she remembers that. Almost as much as I love being able to put my hand on her shoulders to guide her next to me on the line for instruction. “First, you’re only allowed to hold the handle in one of two ways.”
“Why’s that?”
“Because those are the rules.”
“Well, who came up with them?”
Flabbergasted we’re having this conversation instead of throwing axes at some wood, my grip fumbles.
Meadow smirks. “I thought you would have a better grip on your pole than that.”
Reaching for my patience, I inform her loftily, “It’s called a haft.”
“Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t know you only had a half. I should be much more sympathetic to your personal problems.”
“Not a half, a haft.” I emphasize the t on the end.
“Why not just call it the handle?”
“Why don’t you just prepare to throw the thing?” I suggest.
“We could prepare, or we could just do it. Why not just do it?”
“Because you need to know how to handle it the right way. And while I prefer one hand, since you’re new, you might want to try the two-handed method for some power to make sure you reach the target.”
She tips her head to the side. “If I remember, and it’s been a while, aren’t men inclined to use one hand anyway?”
“Oh, God.” I can barely talk because every word between us causes the shaft below my waist to get harder than the one I’m holding. And to think a few moments ago, I was afraid the Meadow I’ve dreamed about wasn’t inside? No, she’s right there just ready to break free. I grin lazily.
She visibly swallows, giving
me all sorts of ideas. “So, what’s the difference.”
“Excuse me?” I’ve totally forgotten what we’re doing as all the blood in my body’s drained south.
“What’s the difference in throwing style, oh wise one.”
Right, axe throwing. “None. Except strength and experience.”
“Then why don’t you go first and show me how it’s supposed to be done.”
“All right. Step back,” I warn her. She immediately complies while I get into place. “Do you see the log with the really white center?”
“Yes. Is that our bull’s-eye?”
“That’s what I’m trying for.” I just hope Meadow’s throw makes it to the log pile so it doesn’t put her off from some good-natured fun.
“I’m sure you’ll do great, Kody.” I can’t stop the way my insides warm over her praise. I keep instructing her as I get into position. “Hand holding the axe with the blade facing the target before release. And launch!” I hurl the axe toward the large white log.
My mind is on the woman standing next to me, not where the axe lands. The guys would likely howl with laughter at how far off center it really is. I can practically hear Jed taunting the amphitheater in Ketchikan if I threw like that when I was a Lumberjack as he handed the flag over to Team Canada, but nonetheless, Meadow applauds. To hell with it. I take a victory lap which triggers my favorite sound in the world. Her laughter.
Then I almost trip on my way back to her when she announces, “Okay. My turn. Get behind the line.”
Scrambling, I do. I fear very little due to the nature of my work. I’ve seen it all from rodents to insects to blood, but an untried woman with an axe? Frankly, I’m terrified. But I’m alarmed when Meadow lines up with one arm out in front of her, the other raised over her head. “Ready to launch,” she calls out.
I step back. Way back.
Seconds later, I have to pick up my jaw off the ground when she not only releases the axe beautifully, but she lands the axe in what appears to be… “Did you just get a kill shot?” I ask indignantly.
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