Changing His Plans

by Jo McNally

  * * *

  Brittany stretched and yawned, feeling both exhausted and invigorated. And maybe a little sore in a few spots. She looked around Nate’s bedroom. She barely remembered him saying goodbye.

  He was needed at the hardware store. The town was relying on him. She stretched again, then sat up, hugging her knees. She was falling for a guy people relied on. Was he someone she could rely on? Joey scratching at the bedroom door was what finally got her out of bed, although the movement made her groan. She checked the bedside clock, stopped, then checked it again. How could it be almost one o’clock? She had to get dressed and get home. But...wearing what? Her clothes from yesterday were dirty and sweaty. She had no desire to put them back on today. That was when she saw that Nate had, once again, thought ahead.

  A pair of sweats—presumably his—were folded on a carved oak dining chair by the door, with a T-shirt—definitely one of his—on top of it. And a note sat on the shirt.

  I tossed your stuff in the washer. Figured this was enough while you wait. Back in a while—pasta okay for dinner? Text if not. Nate.

  She couldn’t help but smile as she reached for her phone to text him.

  Pretty cocky to assume I’m staying for dinner.

  It was only a minute before a reply came back.

  Are you just getting up, lazybones?

  She watched as the little bubbles swam on the screen before another text came through.

  BTW, I’m hoping you stay for more than dinner.

  She pulled on the sweats and shirt and let a whining Joey outside before answering. It took her that long to decide what she was willing to commit to.

  Let’s start with dinner. Which I will make. I’m afraid you’d use ketchup for sauce.

  Nate sent an LOL emoji, followed with his answer.

  Coward! But okay. Busy here, but I’ll be home by 6:30.

  She checked to make sure Joey was staying close by. As usual, his goal seemed to be to sniff every inch of the yard, which would take him a while. Nate’s front yard wasn’t that large, but his backyard widened and ran to the lakeshore. He’d lost one fair-size tree in the storm, but it was already cut into sections and stacked by the remains of the stump, thanks to all the helpers yesterday. But the largest oaks and maples had survived and were shading the yard from the bright sun, creating dappled patterns of light and dark across the grass. It made a pretty picture, especially with the bright blue water of Gallant Lake as a backdrop. Two intricate iron benches sat near the water, painted green and looking as if they’d been there forever. But she recognized them from the barn sale on the Day of the Kiss. She’d commented to Nate that they were pretty, and now there they sat, on his waterfront. She smiled, feeling a warm sensation near her heart. Had he bought them with the thought that she’d be here someday? Or had they simply reminded him of her?

  She found his laundry room and put her wet clothes into the dryer. It gave her pause when she held her underwear in her hand. Which meant they’d been in Nate’s hand. There was a quick blush of embarrassment until she realized he’d had every inch of body in his hands last night, so her underwear wasn’t such a big deal. Joey yipped at the door to come in. As he curled up on the sofa three feet from Nate’s cat, Brittany took an inventory of his kitchen. She jotted a shopping list of what she’d need—everything—and waited for her clothes to dry.

  While she waited, she checked out the house. She’d been there two nights now, but the first night she was too exhausted from the storm to notice many details, and last night she’d been too...um...busy to notice. The place was thoroughly Nate from wall to wall. Chock-full of antiques and collectibles. Some were hanging on the wall in interesting and colorful little groupings. Most of the seating, like the sofa where she’d woken up in Nate’s arms the night before, seemed newer and designed for comfort. Nothing fancy, to be sure, but practical. The tables and hutches, however, were clearly antiques from various eras. From the simple lines of a few arts-and-crafts small tables and a plain shaker corner cupboard to a couple of ornately carved Victorian items, it all just worked. His home was charming and eclectic, bordering on eccentric—but not quite. A lot like Nate.

  Once her clothes were dry, she changed and headed to the grocery store, then stopped at the liquor store to grab some wine. Mack was there, restocking shelves. She greeted Brittany with a smile, explaining that the post-storm rush on alcohol had been good for business.

  “Clearly, everyone wiped out their liquor cabinets during the blackout.” She laughed as she added three bottles of wine to a display. “Including you, I guess.”

  Brittany shook her head absently, holding a bottle of sauvignon so she could read the label. “I’m cooking, and Nate’s house has more beer than wine, so...” She stopped as soon as she realized what she’d just disclosed. Mack was staring at her with a wide smile and a curious gleam in her eye.

  “You’re cooking at Nate’s house? How cozy. And intimate. And...” She gestured at Brittany. “Come on. Help me fill in the blanks, girl. Is this a friendly neighbor sort of dinner, or a let’s-eat-before-hopping-into-bed sort of thing?”

  She chewed her lip before answering. “Probably closer to the last one.”

  Mack’s eyebrows shot up under her thick blond hair.

  “You sound awfully casual about that. Which tells me it won’t be the first time you’ve hopped in bed together. Damn, Brittany. Sit down and tell me what I’ve missed!”

  “I can’t. I have groceries in the car, including chicken breasts. I need to run... Bye!” She turned to bolt, but Mack stopped her, handing her a bottle of white wine.

  “First, use this unoaked chardonnay for cooking—it’s dry, crisp and cheap. And take this pinot grigio to serve with the meal. It’s very nice and...” She winked. “Nate told me he liked it when he came to a tasting here a few months ago.”

  “I’m trying to picture Nate at a wine tasting.” She thought of his beer stash in the refrigerator.

  Mack nodded. “I get that. But can you picture him helping out a fellow business owner? No one cares more about the success of the downtown businesses than Nate Thomas. It was his idea to have a wine tasting specifically for guys who didn’t drink wine. We had a great turnout, too.”

  Brittany could totally see that happening. Nate cared so much about this little town. And he was going to care a lot about it being forever altered by Conrad’s condos. She paid for the wine and went home, making a quick stop at the cottage for another change of clothes—just in case—and her laptop. She checked her emails while sitting on the back deck at Nate’s place, with a tall glass of lemonade on the table next to her. It was a near-perfect day—warm and bright, with puffy white clouds drifting across a sharp blue sky that cast round shadows on the side of Gallant Mountain. She could get used to working here, in the comfort of a giant old Adirondack chair at Nate’s house with this view.

  But her first email sent a shadow over the afternoon. It was from Conrad:

  You seem concerned about community reception to our plans. That’s something you’ve never worried about before, but fine. Of course you can’t share these, but here are the artist renderings of what we’ll be building in Gallant Lake. It should make you feel better. It’s not some monstrosity. It’s clean, modern and, best of all, profitable. Don’t let me down, Barracuda. I’m counting on you for this one.

  To be fair, Conrad had built some very nice communities and resorts in the past. Sometimes change was good, and maybe she needed to have a more open mind about her employer’s plans. She clicked on the attachment. And gasped so loudly that Joey looked up from his resting spot next to her.

  The drawing showed a long cement-and-cedar building, three stories high, along Main Street. Everything was horizontal on it, from the layout of the cedar planks on the second story to the windows, which were long and narrow toward the street. It looked like a prison, or maybe like a city office building t
hat had been pancaked and plopped into Gallant Lake. On the water side, the second story was a wall of floor-to-ceiling windows. That made sense with the view, but the interior sketches screamed “city loft” far more than “Catskills charm.”

  The ground floor had some retail shops, but many of the condos took the whole three stories. From the water it looked like one really long restaurant with that wide swath of windows. And from the street...the view Nora’s customers would have...it was sterile. And ugly. And nothing like any of the existing buildings in town. She scrolled through the images again, then slammed her laptop shut, tears pushing at the corners of her eyes.

  She’d done this job for years. She’d played a big role in changing the landscape of neighborhoods and towns. She’d always thought it was a good thing. She was helping to inject money and business into the local economies. Even the people who objected often ended up supporting Conrad’s projects, because the guy was good at seeing potential growth. And growth helped everyone. Growth raised property values. Growth raised incomes as businesses catered to the new residents or tourists.

  But it had never felt like this. It had never felt personal. As if it was her community being “improved” by Conrad Quest. Her friends staring at the garish new building. Her lover losing the character of the town his family had been part of for generations. She smiled. Five generations, to be exact. Nate liked to make that point often. She reached down to scratch Joey’s head, sending his long hair flopping back and forth. It was time to make dinner. And while she did that, she’d start brainstorming ways to stop Conrad. Preferably without losing her job.

  * * *

  Ten days later she was still brainstorming. While Nate was at the store most days, she’d be online, researching other potential locations and crunching numbers. Because the only thing that mattered to Conrad was numbers. And she knew how to talk his language. She was going to save this damn town, one way or the other. Because she was falling for Nate Thomas, and falling hard.

  The first few nights they’d alternated between his house and the cottage for sleeping and dinner. But as much as Brittany valued maintaining her independence, she was the first to point out it didn’t make sense. Nate’s house was spacious and had all the amenities. The cottage was...not spacious. And needed a lot of improvising to accommodate two people, with its limited kitchen space and tiny single bathroom. It also didn’t have the big deck and comfy Adirondack chairs she liked so much. After four nights she’d packed up and basically moved in, using the cottage for work during the day, but that was it.

  They continued to tell each other it was only temporary. Someday she’d have to go back to Tampa if she wanted to keep collecting paychecks and move into that partner’s office. But she wasn’t thinking about that now. She refused to think about it. Which might not be practical, but this feeling in her heart was so brand-new that she wanted to give it her full attention.

  She and Nate made no sense on paper. She was driven. He was laid-back. She craved change—or at least she used to—and he valued the past above all else. He thought tartar sauce was a sandwich spread. She’d taken cooking classes at a four-star restaurant last fall. The contrasts went on and on. And while some people thought opposites-attract romances were a thing, the trope was unrealistic in movies and in books. And real life. Sure, things might be interesting and fun at first, but then someone always had to compromise, and how could that lead to any long-term happiness? Someone was always a winner, making the other a loser, right?

  She started whipping the eggs with more force than necessary, considering they were just being used as a quick dip for the fish fillets Nate had pulled from the freezer the night before. He’d told her proudly that he’d caught and cleaned them himself, and he had assured her that freshwater perch were mild and tender when cooked right. Which she had taken as a challenge.

  Joey and Pepper were sleeping on the sofa together, and no longer at opposite ends. They’d settled whatever cat vs. dog standoff they’d had in the beginning and were now fast friends. And sleeping buddies. Right now Joey was stretched out on the sofa, with Pepper curled up under his chin. They’d worked it out, and there didn’t seem to be a winner or loser between them.

  She warmed up the oil in the cast-iron skillet, knowing Nate would be home shortly. Their routine was comfortable. Natural. Just last night they’d been huddled together under a blanket on one of the Adirondack chairs, watching the moon rise over the lake and sipping hot cocoa. Nate had brushed his lips across her ear and whispered that it felt as if they’d been together “forever.” That was a word she generally didn’t believe in, but being with Nate was making her wonder.

  Ellie had always insisted that there was a someone out there who’d make Brittany believe in forever someday. She’d always laughed at her little sister’s rosy outlook, but maybe...just maybe...a guy like Nate could change her mind. His quiet strength settled her in ways she’d never experienced. And in bed... Well, in bed he made her feel things. Sexy things. Woman things. Most of all, he made her feel safe. From everything and everyone.

  As a fiercely independent businesswoman, she’d never wanted or needed some man to protect her. She could take care of herself and had done so her entire adult life. But the security Nate gave her didn’t take away from that. Unlike so many of the men she’d dated, Nate didn’t need her to be less in order for him to be more.

  Which meant the whole opposites-attract idea could work for them. But only as long as Nate never learned of her role with Conrad’s plans. Nate might not need her to be less, but he did need her to be honest, and she hadn’t been that. Not completely. She had a feeling honesty was the one thing he would never compromise on. Which would definitely make her the loser.

  Chapter Twelve

  Nate’s life had been transformed. Oh, he still worked the store and worried about bills and went picking on the weekends. Same old life. But there was a bright new presence in it, in the shape of Brittany Doyle, shining light into every corner of his days and nights.

  He’d always known there was chemistry there. The kiss in the barn a month ago made that very clear. He knew making love to her would change things. He just never knew how much. How much he’d crave her touch. And not just when they were together. His need for her was constant, like a gas burner turned on low at the back of the stove, keeping things warm until he was with her again.

  Which was every night now. She’d moved into his place by the end of the first week, declaring it was more “practical.” He’d let her tell herself that, knowing she needed to cling to her independence. But Brittany staying at his house had nothing to do with practicality, unless it was the practicality of being able to get naked together at a moment’s notice. Which they’d been doing a lot. He had a hunch she was falling just as hard as he was. She might not want to, but she was falling nonetheless. The hard-edged city girl was beginning to appreciate life in the Catskills.

  Last week she’d fried up some perch fillets from the freezer, just like a good fisherman’s woman would do. They were a little fancier than he’d have done, but they were also twice as good. Which was a theme in their lives these days. She made everything better. Walks on the lakeshore became opportunities to hold hands and laugh together. To teach her how to skip stones on the water. To see the changing fall colors of the trees through her eyes. To go antiquing together and tug her into a dusty corner in some shop or barn for a quick, hard kiss.

  “She’s a natural at this.” Asher Peyton clapped Nate on the back. They were on the wide wraparound porch outside Asher and Nora’s log home on the mountainside. Nora and Brittany were playing a modified game of soccer with Nora and Asher’s grandson, Charlie, in the yard below, being careful to avoid the drop-off that provided stunning views of the lake and the mountains beyond it. It was hard to look at the sunset right now, with the sun hovering near the horizon like a brilliant red ball. Brittany slipped in the grass and went down on her behind with a surp
rised squeal. Nate tensed for a fraction of a second until he saw her jump back to her feet, chasing the three-year-old with a laughing threat of revenge.

  “Oh, man, you’ve got it bad, don’t you?” Asher chuckled at his side.

  Nate blinked. “What do you mean?”

  “I mean...you and Brittany are gettin’ serious in a hurry. Those puppy-dog eyes of yours tell me you’re a goner.” Asher raised his glass of bourbon with a grin. “She’s it for you, isn’t she?”

  He looked back to the two women and the little boy. Brittany was trying to protect her makeshift goal made of two sticks while Nora and the little boy pressed forward. Her arms were spread wide, her face lit up with laughter. When Charlie kicked the ball, she made a show of leaping for it, but he could tell she missed it on purpose, lying on the ground in defeat as it rolled between the sticks. Nora helped her up and they started back toward the house. Brittany looked up and caught his gaze, her smile deepening.

  “Yeah,” he said quietly. “She’s it for me. But she’s not staying...”

  “Are you sure about that? Like I said, she looks like a natural. As if small-town living is where she belongs.” Asher gave him a long look. “Or is it just because you’re here? Did you ever consider she might think you’re it for her, too? Have you guys not talked about this?”

  “Like you said, it’s happened fast. She’s still got a job waiting in Tampa.”

  “She doesn’t seem real eager to get back to that job.”

  It was true. She hadn’t even mentioned it lately. But she had gone to the cottage, which she now referred to as her office, almost every day. She said she was handling emails and advising clients, but quickly changed the subject if he dug any deeper. She came onto the porch before he could respond to Asher, hooking her arm in his and giving him a quick kiss on the cheek. They walked inside, where Nora’s stuffed shells were ready to come out of the oven. Brittany uncovered the salad she’d brought and added dressing, and they sat down to the meal as friends. They told stories and kept little Charlie entertained. The women sat at the kitchen island with their wine and giggled at the men’s attempts to clean up after dinner. It was relaxing. It was fun. It felt like a peek through a door at the life Nate could have if she stayed. For all his protesting about change, the changes Brittany could bring to his life felt nothing but positive. And still he couldn’t shake the feeling that there was something...some threat...hanging over their future together.