by Megan Ryder
Caroline was going to be so pissed.
She glanced at her phone and saw a text message from Grady’s employee. He was downstairs with the lights. Dammit.
She scooped the papers into her briefcase and bolted downstairs to meet him. Happy vacation to her.
*
Grady centered the number plaque on the house to the right of the front door, and placed the nail in the center. He hefted the hammer and slammed it down… right on his thumb. Pain shot through him and he dropped the hammer, the plaque and nail plunged to the porch floor, slamming his foot right where the wear and tear on the boot was the worst, offering little protection.
“Goddamn it!” He cradled his hand, rubbing it to take the sting out.
“Grady? What happened?”
A stacked brunette peered out the front door and laughed when she saw him hopping around. She came out on the porch and he held up his hand, still swearing under his breath. She stifled her laughter when she saw his hand. She examined it, probing for pain and fractures.
“I think you’ll live. You didn’t hit it dead center, I think. Now, sit down and take off that boot.” She pulled out a cane rocking chair and pushed him into it.
“I’m fine, Janine. Just embarrassed.” Grady grumbled but she gestured to the boot and he slipped it off. He massaged the toes and wiggled them experimentally. “See, they’re fine.”
She pursed her lips and waved her hand. “Sock too.”
He grumbled but pulled it off. “See? Just red, but nothing’s broken.”
She leaned over it, her wavy black hair brushing his foot. She gently probed the red and slightly swollen area, sending tingles up his leg that had nothing to do with the injury and everything to do with the woman touching his foot. She looked up at him expectantly and he realized he had missed her words.
“Sorry, what did you say?”
She laughed, a deep throaty sound. “Maybe we should check you for a concussion. Everything seems fine, just bruised. I told you to replace those boots weeks ago. They’re almost falling apart.”
He glanced over at the beaten-up work boots and sighed. “They’re my favorite.”
She rocked back on her heels. “Time to let them go, cowboy.”
“Yeah, there’s a lot of that going around today,” he muttered then shrugged when she stared at him. “You had to be there.”
She stood up, brushing off her pants, but gave him the stop sign. “I think it’s time for a break. I brought some lunch, enough for both of us since you never eat. Hang on.”
She disappeared into the house and reappeared a few minutes later with a lunch bag. She tossed him a can of soda and pulled out two sandwiches. “Roast beef or tuna?”
He stared at her. “Seriously? Real men eat beef.”
She laughed as she tossed the sandwich. “I know. It has horseradish too, just as you like it.”
He peeled back the foil and took a big bite, the flavors exploding in his mouth. He sighed. “Yes, that’s the stuff.”
“Stella makes the best sandwiches. Bet you don’t have them this good in Houston.” Janine spoke around a mouthful of tuna.
“They’re pretty good, but Stella does the best.”
They ate in silence for a few minutes, then Janine spoke. “So, you’ve been pretty distracted this weekend, acting like a newbie on the construction site. I almost banned you three times.”
He glowered at her over the sandwich. “You did ban me from the house. After I kicked over that can of paint.”
“Ahhh yes, right. I forgot about that. If you keep going like you are, we’ll never finish before the wedding and your surprise will be shot.”
“It’s not my surprise but Caroline’s father’s.”
“They’re spending the wedding night here, right? Well, I’m sure you don’t want them inhaling paint fumes while they’re trying to be romantic.”
He grimaced. “That’s my brother we’re talking about. Do you think we could change the subject?”
“Okay, back to you. Who ran over your dog?”
“My dog? Oh, my mood. Yeah, I don’t want to talk about it.” He looked out over the rolling ocean, easily visible from the front porch of the cottage, which, truth be told, was more of a house then a small cottage. Most families didn’t have houses this big, but this was small to the Masters’ family. It was a palace to the Coughlins, at least to Grady Coughlin. Matthew had grown up in a mansion thanks to his stepfather.
Not wanting to follow that thread, his mind shifted to the reason for his foul mood. Brigid Anderson. In too short a time, or longer if she missed the ferry which was likely, he’d be stuck with her for a whole week after she had ruined his life with her pronouncement that he wasn’t good enough for her. Well, she didn’t actually say it that way but breaking up with him because he didn’t fit into her plans for a future with her hoity-toity law firm said it all.
The night of Matthew’s promotion to partner was supposed to be a big night for all of them, a turning point in their lives. Grady had just made the final payment on the business, putting it officially all in his name and out of debt. After his father’s Parkinson’s and Alzheimer’s, there had a few lean years when Grady struggled to take over and expand the business. During the intermediate time, there had been a struggle between them on how to run the business, with his father not willing to accept his couldn’t do it anymore and Grady knowing they needed to go in a new direction in order to grow and survive. He had met Brigid in that time and she offered a safe haven in the shit storm that was the rest of his life, a place where he could relax and just be himself.
Then, to go to the party and realize he was her guilty little secret, someone she didn’t invite to firm events and someone she couldn’t see spending the rest of her life with, well, that just kicked him in the balls. He had let their friends with benefits arrangement go on longer than he wanted because Brigid spooked easily and he had only recently started thinking about the future, being in a position to think about it, really. He had known she had a lot of pressure on her from her family but never imagined she would give up happiness for her career. And he had thought he made her happy.
Wasn’t the first time a woman gave him up to enjoy the high life.
And they were back to his mother, a topic he had to shut down because he sure as shit wasn’t ready to open that Pandora’s box yet, even though Matthew’s wedding was going to force the issue. He’d deal with that later. Right now, Brigid was on her way to the island and he had a whole week to figure out how to deal with her and survive the week without getting his heart broken any more than it already was.
“I see. Women trouble.” Janine nodded in the way all women nodded when they knew something the men in their life didn’t want them to know.
He glared at her. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
She smirked. “Somebody has girl trouble. And it’s not me.” She turned on the top step of the porch and peered up at him. “So, what’s the deal?”
He shrugged, knowing Janine well enough over the past few months that she was like a badger when she set her mind to something. “I thought we had something more but she disagreed.”
“Then she’s stupid. You’re a great guy, Grady. Won’t be too hard to find someone else. Maybe you already have and don’t realize it.” The last was said with a sideways glance to him but he only shrugged again. She let out a huff of frustration and he paused in taking a bite of his sandwich.
“What?”
She only shook her head. “You figure it out, Grady. Now, we have lighting to deal with, and finishing touches. Want to do the walk through?”
Grady’s phone dinged and he pulled it out of his pocket. “Shit. I completely forgot. I have to pick up Brigid from the ferry. She’s early for once.”
Janine raised a brow, a smirk on her face. “Brigid? What time did you expect her?”
“Sometime later today. Instead, she actually made it on the ferry when she said she would.” He scowled. This was one tim
e he wished she had been running late. He could have used more time.
“I can see why she’d annoy you. All of the workers commented on your obsessive focus on time.” She suppressed a smile.
He grinned. “No, it’s not like that. She works a lot and usually misses things, even meals.”
“And you take care of her, right?” She nodded knowingly. “Is this the ex-girlfriend?”
“Sort of.”
Janine hefted the work belt and paused at the stairs, an enigmatic look on her face. “If she can’t see how great you are, she doesn’t deserve you, Grady.”
“I’ll be back soon.”
“No hurry,” her voice called down from the top of the stairs. “You’ve done enough damage.”
“Ha-ha. She has the lights for the living room. I’ll swing by with them.” He stomped out the door, limping only slightly on his injured foot, but he still heard her voice drifting down from the upstairs.
“Can’t wait to meet this girl.”
Chapter Five
The ferry ride over was uneventful, too windy to pull out any of the papers and a little too unsteady for her to concentrate anyway. The last thing she needed was to get sick all over the documents so she rested her eyes and ran through her to-do list, and her excuses, for the week. Once they docked, she dragged her suitcase, the garment bag, and the box of lighting for Grady. He owed her big time for schlepping the materials that he should have remembered. She wasn’t his gal Friday, even if she was Peterman’s.
She let most of the people exit the ferry first, the few cars and then the passengers. Whitby Island was a small island and they restricted vehicle traffic as much as possible, encouraging tourists to stay in the town and use local transportation, including bikes and local taxis if necessary. If most people stayed in the town area, in the bed and breakfasts, they didn’t need transportation. Only the people who owned houses in the gated part of the island needed a way in to town, and they were advised to only have one or two cars per house. The island used narrow, windy roads that were not maintained perfectly to reinforce their wishes.
Brilliant really.
Once most people had disembarked, Brigid gathered her things and stacked them on the travel cart she had bought once in an airport. It wasn’t quite enough but it would help. She paused, sweat dripping down her back in the September heat. Even the cool air from the ocean couldn’t quell the perspiration. She muttered under her breath, a low curse for the man who couldn’t be bothered to show up when she was helping him.
“I’ve got that.” A hand reached around her and effortlessly lifted the box and propped it on a hip. “That cart is pretty much useless.”
“I got it on here with it,” she replied tartly.
“Yeah, thanks. You saved me a trip back to Houston. Matthew and Caroline found these lamps one day, and Matthew snuck them out to me so we could put them in the cottage. I want to install them this week.” He eyed her briefcase. “Looks like I’m not the only one planning to work this week.”
She held up a hand. “Not another word. Let’s go.”
She hefted her briefcase and garment bag, and wheeled her suitcase behind her. Grady started to follow then paused. “Brigid? Did you forget something?”
A six pack of Buffalo Bayou ale, a craft brew from a local brewery in Houston, remained on the floor where all of her belongings had been. Grady quirked an eyebrow to her. She shrugged.
“I didn’t think you’d find your favorite beer on Whitby and I figured you didn’t bring any.”
He considered her for a long moment, then nodded once, bent down and swept up the six pack. He shifted his load and headed off the ferry, Brigid trailing after him.
After they tossed their stuff in his pickup truck, he headed down away from town, still silent. Finally, Brigid couldn’t stand the suspense any longer.
“Are you ever going to talk to me again? Or even look at me?”
He glanced over. “Of course. Why wouldn’t I?”
“I don’t know, Grady. Maybe because I broke your heart on Friday?”
He snorted, a mirthless sound. “Don’t give yourself too much credit, Brigid. I just thought we might want to try to take our relationship to another level. You disagreed. It’s over.” He shrugged. “I can handle it just fine.”
“Really?” She arched an eyebrow. “That wasn’t the impression you gave Friday night.”
“I was disappointed. Sue me.”
His nonchalant attitude bothered her, niggled under her skin like a splinter that was working its way deeper, irritating her. His refusal to look at her reinforced her sense that things were still not right between them. Maybe they never would be. But, for Caroline and Matthew’s sake, she had to try, had to make sure they were okay for the wedding week and not going to ruin anything. Lord knew, with Delaney Winters and Anna Costado coming, they’d have enough drama and Brigid hated to add to it.
“Grady, please. Pull over for a second. We have to talk before we get to the house.”
For the first time, he looked at her, really looked at her. “We’re not going to the house. I need to make a stop.”
“Where?”
*
Her question was answered a few minutes later when Grady pulled up to a small house, cottage style, overlooking the water. It was a two-story older home, shaker style. It had gray shaker slates on the sides and white trim, along with a white wrap-around porch. Just to the side of the house, the Gulf of Mexico waves roared in to the rocks, spraying up with white foam.
Brigid got out of the truck and looked at the adorable cottage, so perfect for Caroline. “Grady, she’ll love this.”
“Matthew hasn’t even seen it yet. So, remember, it’s a secret.” He hefted the box out of the back and headed for the porch. “I’ll be right back.”
“Not a chance in hell. I want to see it.” She slammed the truck door and strode after him and up the porch.
“Hey, Grady. Didn’t expect you back so soon.” A throaty female voice called out from the house. “Please tell me you’re not here to do any work. I don’t think we have enough time to repair any more damage.”
A genuine smile crossed Grady’s face, and he looked more relaxed since he had met Brigid at the ferry. Brigid hurried to the house to catch a glimpse of the person who might have replaced her in Grady’s affections. A curvy woman with black curly hair, wearing overalls spattered with paint, stood in what appeared to be the living room area, a paint brush in her hand, the other hand planted on her hip. She cocked her head and directed a teasing smile at him.
Outrage flooded Brigid and blood rushed to her head. Damn it, that woman was flirting with Grady, right in front of her. As if she wasn’t even there. She seemed awfully familiar with Grady, making Brigid wonder how close they had gotten when working on the cottage. No wonder Grady wasn’t worried about her rejection. He had someone lined up in the wings, waiting for him. Bastard.
She didn’t own Grady. In fact, she had broken things off. She had no reason to be angry. An ache in her hands made her realize how tightly clenched her fists were. She forced her hands to relax, and pasted a smile on her face, hoping it wasn’t too predatory and fake.
She walked into the living room and Grady stepped back from Janine—who dropped her hand from his shoulder—a guilty look on his face.
“Brigid, this is Janine Edgerton, a subcontractor on the island. She’s been doing a lot of the work for me while I was on the mainland.”
“He’s been an excellent boss.” Janine looked up at Grady out of the side of her eye, clearly flirting with him. And Grady wasn’t moving away.
Brigid resisted the urge to scratch out the eyes of the woman with her nails, but she counted to ten, then held out her hand. “I’m Brigid, good friend of Grady’s.”
He looked startled for a moment at her words, then relaxed, but a wary look remained in his eye, as if he knew this meeting was not the best idea. He gestured to the box in the hallway.
“The lights for the d
ining room are in the box. Will you have time to install them?”
“The paint should be dry by tomorrow. I’ll install them then. Will you stop by to see it?”
They walked into the adjoining dining room, still talking, ignoring Brigid. She slowly followed, taking in the cottage style colors and basic layout. But she was more focused on Grady and the woman, still puzzled over the feeling of jealousy she had. She had no reason to be jealous but, damn it, her gut clenched when thinking about Grady and this Janine woman. Brigid needed time to figure this out, figure out her feelings, why she was so angry and jealous.
Damn Grady.
The dining room was a soft shade of yellow with white trim. The furniture was dark wood, the perfect accent to the bright room. Painter’s tape was still up in a few spots around the glass doors to the porch and the ocean. It would be a beautiful place to have a nice dinner.
“Grady, Caroline will love this place.”
Janine tossed her hair. “You should have seen how bad it was before. This place was so rundown, even on prime real estate. But the zoning committee has so many restrictions, no one could tear it down or put on any major additions so no one wanted it. Grady is a master at seeing the possibilities.” Janine laid a hand on Grady’s arm. “He’s brilliant.”
Brigid’s stomach turned and she resisted the childish urge to gag at the sweetness and light of the woman and her adoration of Grady.
She had to respond of course. Had to show this woman. She smiled sweetly. “Of course he is. You should see the work he’s doing on his own house in Houston. It’s amazing. You haven’t seen it? Maybe someday.”
Over her dead body.
As if sensing the change in tone, Grady stepped between the women, grabbing Brigid’s arm, hustling her out of the room. “Well, we have to get going, Janine. I’ll check back in later and be here tomorrow if I can. You have my cell.”
“Of course, Grady. Nice meeting you, Brigid.”
Like hell. Brigid yanked her arm out of Grady’s grasp and stalked out of the house.