Herons Landing

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Herons Landing Page 8

by JoAnn Ross


  Knowing how Ben Harper felt about her family, Brianna felt that even the entire contents of that towering glass case next to Cops and Coffee’s take-out counter wouldn’t be enough to win Seth’s father over. Not that she was going to allow any negative behavior to dissuade her from hiring Harper Construction to create her dream.

  “Anyway, Mai and I looked at Herons Landing while we were house hunting, but decided it was a lot more of a project than we wanted to deal with. And more rooms than we’d ever need. Even now that we’re planning a family.”

  “You are? That’s wonderful.” Brianna shot a hard look at her only remaining friend. “Yet you accused me of holding back news? After, as you pointed out, we only talked last week.” A conversation that had mostly been about the unexpected and ongoing trials with the Folk Victorian that Harper Construction was remodeling for them.

  “I didn’t want to risk jinxing things.” Kylee ran a hand through her curls. “A few months ago I photographed the wedding of a woman who works with state and private organizations matching potential parents with children who need families. Which was when we decided to adopt.

  “Meanwhile, our baby’s birth mother isn’t due for another month and we’re hoping to move into the house beforehand so we don’t have to bring her home to the apartment, then move again. It’s not easy, but we’re trying to stay patient.”

  “Which is proving a bit easier for me than her,” Mai said with a laugh.

  “What can I say?” Kylee shrugged. “We Scots have never been ones for red tape.”

  “I’d imagine there’s quite a bit when it comes to adoption.”

  “Miles and miles of the damn stuff,” Kylee agreed. “And it’s a risk because the birth mother can always change her mind. However, despite some construction setbacks, like having to redo all the wiring in the place and getting rid of some asbestos, we’re up for the challenge. The house is going to be perfect when Seth finishes.

  “Speak of that handsome devil,” she said as she saw a truck approaching. “There he is now.” She stepped out into the street to wave him down.

  Fortunately, the pickup had good brakes. He stopped on a dime, then pulled over next to the sidewalk. Brianna watched as the two exchanged a few words through the open driver’s window. Then the door opened and the man she’d spent her entire adolescence fantasizing about climbed out looking like a cover model for Hot Construction Guy Monthly.

  Over the years, partly in loyalty to her best friend and partly to keep her own hormones in check, she’d tried to convince herself that Seth Harper was just another guy. Okay, better-looking than most, but still, it wasn’t as if he were movie-star handsome like Chris Evans. Or any of the other hot Chrises: Hemsworth, Pine or Pratt.

  But she’d been wrong. As he strolled toward her across the street, she decided that just maybe he topped them all. He was tall, lean and lanky, which only emphasized the intriguing ridges visible beneath the black T-shirt he was wearing under a flannel shirt. Brianna didn’t think it was possible to have a zero body fat ratio, but if it was, he was definitely pulling it off.

  A black ball cap worn backward covered his hair, but his eyes were that same melted-chocolate brown she remembered, and above the hollows in his cheeks, his jaw bore a sexy scruff. Though, as he neared, she could detect lines fanning out from his eyes that hadn’t been there two years ago.

  “Hey, you.” She hugged him, just as she had Kylee. But this hug was different. Even as Brianna reminded herself that he was her best friend’s widower, despite all those years of telling herself that the man was off-limits, and not to even be fantasized about in her most secret moments, her breath caught in a way that could not be good.

  “Hey, you.” Was his voice deeper? Rougher? She wasn’t sure, but it had definitely caused something inside her to jitter. He broke the brief hug off. “It’s been a while.”

  “It has.” They’d been standing side by side at the love of his life’s funeral. She’d had no jittering that day. No unsteady breath. Just a deep, aching pain that went all the way to the bone.

  “I’ve been meaning to get back for ages, but somehow days flew by, then weeks, then months, then a year had passed, then two, and...”

  She slammed her mouth shut. Of course he, of all people, would know how many days, weeks, months and years had passed. That wretched day had to have been etched forever in his mind. And in no way that had anything to do with her.

  “Anyway, I’ve quit my job and come home for a lifestyle change.”

  “That’s a surprise.” His cocked brow echoed Mai’s. “Zoe always talked about how much you loved your work in the fast lane.”

  “Well, you know how it is.” Determined to appear casual, even as those butterflies in her stomach had turned into giant condors, she waved an airy hand. “Or possibly you don’t, not because Honeymoon Harbor isn’t exactly in the fast lane...”

  Terrific. Now she was implying Seth Harper was some small-town rube. Could Mount Baker please just erupt and cover her in ash and lava now before she made things worse? “But you always knew exactly what you wanted to do.”

  Hadn’t he built the tree house he and Zoe would hide out in with his own two hands from wood reclaimed from Harper Construction dumpsters? No. She was not going to think about what the two of them might have been doing in that house that Zoe had hung curtains in, because any thoughts of sex concerning this man were off-limits.

  “I mean, you were the only person I’ve ever met who probably knew the difference between Italianate, Gothic Revival and Queen Anne styles of Victorians before the rest of us mastered long division.”

  She remembered, while they’d been running wild in Herons Landing, he’d stop and point out architectural details one of his ancestors had originally installed. Her brothers, intent on adventure, had never paused to listen. But she had. Though, to be honest, back then she would’ve been more than happy to listen to him recite the tide tables.

  Her thoughts were spinning even faster than she was talking. Even Kylee was looking at her strangely. She was saved from making a total fool of herself when a huge brown-and-black dog leaped out of the truck’s window and came bounding toward them.

  “Bandit!” Seth shouted. The dog’s only response was to run faster, its tail wagging like a metronome. “Stay!”

  Whether it was intending to obey, or it had finally reached its target, the dog came skidding to a halt in front of Brianna and, in way of greeting, thrust his huge nose into the crotch of her jeans.

  “Hell.” Seth grabbed its collar, and tugged. “I’m sorry. We’re still working on manners.”

  “That’s okay.” She reached down and rubbed his broad head, scratching behind its ear. Her family had always had dogs, which, needless to say, hadn’t been possible for her once she’d left home. Even if she had found a small couch potato breed, her long working hours wouldn’t have been fair to any animal. “Aren’t you a handsome boy?”

  Moaning with canine ecstasy, he collapsed on the ground and rolled over for a tummy rub, exposing his male parts in all their proud glory.

  “Don’t get him started,” Seth warned. He yanked off his cap and stuck it in his back pocket, revealing shaggy hair, streaked with the rich, golden brown of big-leaf maple leaves in fall. “Give him an inch and he’ll take a mile.”

  “And probably deserves it.” Crouching down, she obliged as eighty-plus pounds of dog wiggled on its back, huge paws waving in the air, a picture of pure canine bliss. “His name is Bandit?”

  “Yeah. Because he’s a thief. I adopted him partly to stop him from swiping all the workers’ lunches. And not just food. Shoes, socks, toothbrush, you name it, he’ll take it. Last week he swallowed an entire dish towel, which involved a trip to the vet.”

  “Ouch.”

  “Bri’s going to buy Herons Landing,” Kylee said, jumping into the conversation.

  The dark brow
climbed again, practically disappearing beneath the strands of hair that had fallen over his forehead. “Seriously?”

  “Seriously. And you sound skeptical.” Now that they’d moved to talking about work, Brianna was back in her comfort zone, her mind returning to a more familiar organizing and planning mode. “Kylee said you restored the exterior. Which looks wonderful, by the way.” She decided not to risk offending him by mentioning the exterior paint colors. “At least from the ad on the website.”

  “The rough edges on that ad were smoothed out by the real estate agent doing some Photoshop magic,” he confirmed what she’d already been told. “Though that part’s close to being done. The interior, however, is definitely still a work in progress.”

  “Which, I’ve learned over the course of our job, is contractor speak for ‘It’s going to take twice as long and three times the money,’” Kylee said.

  “Especially when clients keep bringing up new ideas they want,” Seth responded pointedly.

  Bandit, realizing that he’d gotten as much tummy rubbing as he was going to get right now, was sitting in front of Brianna, his brown eyes giving her an adoring look she guessed often worked to his advantage.

  “I can’t deny that,” Kylee said with a laugh.

  “I keep telling her to step away from Houzz and Pinterest,” Mai said. “But she’s like an addict. Just one more picture. And the next thing you know, it’s two in the morning and she’s printed out a stack of photos and suggestions.”

  “I’m not that bad. And fortunately, Seth knows how to do everything.”

  “Far from everything. But having grown up on work sites, it’s probably in my blood. I always knew I’d work to keep the town’s old buildings from being turned into parking lots or strip malls.” He turned to Brianna. “The same way you knew you wanted to work in hospitality. Whether it was finding a family the perfect Christmas tree, or creating a special hotel experience.”

  Brianna was surprised he’d listened to any of her grand plans when they’d all hung out together back in high school. Every atom in his body had always seemed to be honed in on Zoe.

  She stood back up and shrugged with a feigned casualness she was a long way from feeling. “I did love my work. Especially in the beginning.” Which she hadn’t taken time to appreciate, being so focused on racing past each rung of the hospitality ladder. “But after a while, it became more a case of ‘Be careful what you wish for.’”

  “It happens.” He didn’t look all that surprised. On the contrary, his eyes, which she now noticed had deep shadows beneath them, turned sad. “So, what’s your new plan?”

  “She’s turning it into a B and B,” Kylee answered before Brianna could. “So why don’t you take her over there and give her a professional opinion so she’ll know what she’s getting into when and if she ends up negotiating a price?”

  “That’d probably be best for her contractor to discuss with her.”

  “I was hoping you’d take on the job,” Brianna said, looking up at him in surprise. She’d never considered the possibility that anyone but Harper Construction would do the remodeling.

  He put both his hands on his hips, his long, work-roughened fingers framing a part of his body that Brianna never allowed herself to even think about. Which was a lie. There’d been a time, during her freshman year of high school, when she’d first started having those feelings, that she’d definitely imagined what Seth Harper was hiding beneath those five metal buttons. He glanced over at her car with its back seat loaded with luggage and boxes. “Did you just arrive today?”

  “On the four-o’clock ferry,” she confirmed. “I’m staying with my folks for the time being until I find a rental in town. But I’m sure you have better things to do right now, so perhaps we could set up an appointment, since Kylee’s idea for me to find out what I’m in for before I buy the house is a good one.”

  A silence hung between them. Everyone, including Bandit, whose gaze had begun going back and forth between them, seemed to be waiting for Seth’s response.

  “I don’t have anything else to do,” he said finally. A shadow had moved across those sad, dark eyes, like clouds drifting in from the coast before a storm. “If you don’t need to get straight out to the farm, I’m up for showing you through the house.” He looked down at her, studying her, his face unreadable. “Though I’ve got to warn you, it’s a long way from being livable enough to open for guests anytime soon.”

  “It couldn’t be any worse than back when we used to sneak in,” she said.

  “Got a point there.” And then he almost smiled. At least that’s what she thought that twitch at the corner of his lips might have meant to be. Though that could just be wishful thinking.

  “I’ll meet you there,” she said.

  “Works for me.”

  All three women watched as he walked back to his truck. “I’m not into guys, but I’ve got to admit, that’s one damn fine butt,” Mai said on a long sigh.

  “It’s all those squats,” Kylee said. When Brianna shot her friend a look, she lifted her hands and said, “Hey, he’s working on our house. I’d have to be blind not to notice him picking up all that lumber and stuff.”

  “And those back muscles when he’s pounding nails,” Mai said on a sigh. “He’s like a living work of art. You should shoot him,” she told Kylee. “In the nude.”

  “I’ve thought about doing a calendar of Honeymoon Harbor Hotties to raise money for the food bank. Not entirely nude. Just suggestive enough for those of us with dirty minds.” Kylee flashed a wicked grin. “He’d definitely fit right in.”

  “You could have a showing and auction of the photos at Mike Mannion’s gallery,” Mai said. “It would boost interest in the calendar. Especially if you had all the guys standing next to big, blown-up photos of their months. The place would be packed with women from all over the peninsula. Not counting our brother gays.”

  “She shoots. She scores. And the crowd goes wild,” Kylee, who’d played center for the town’s high school hoops team, said with a laugh.

  “I’d buy it in a heartbeat,” Brianna said. It would be the closest she’d gotten to a naked man in too long to remember. “And, as much as this has been fun, I’d better get going.” Just the thought of a nude Builder McDreamy was raising her temperature.

  “Good luck,” Kylee said as Brianna opened the driver’s door.

  “Thanks. You know I’ve always loved that house.”

  “Oh, yeah. The house.” Her friend’s knowing look reminded Brianna of all those times when they’d talked about her secret crush on the third member of the Three Musketeers’ boyfriend. “Good luck with that, too.”

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  DRIVING OVER TO Herons Landing, Seth passed two kids, about nine years old, racing their bikes down the quiet street lined with bright pink flowering plum trees and waved back at Otto and Alma Karlsson, who were sitting in rockers on their front porch. They’d celebrated their sixtieth anniversary in the town hall this past Valentine’s Day. The party had originally been planned to take place in the friendship hall of the Swedish Seamen’s Lutheran church, but when so many townspeople wanted to join in the celebration, it had been moved to the larger venue.

  Turning left on Mountain View, the sight of Mellie and Jake Johnson pushing their two toddlers in a double stroller had him rubbing his chest. If he and Zoe had been successful in their baby-making plan, their child would be about the same age as the Johnson’s twins. It also occurred to him that, in a space of less than three minutes, he’d witnessed a circle of life. From the babies and their parents, to the preteens, to the elderly Karlssons.

  Although she might have arrived in Honeymoon Harbor from Astoria, Zoe’s father’s family, like Seth’s own and the Mannions, were early settlers. From time to time he’d be dragged into pioneer celebrations, which he’d always enjoyed growing up, but the last few times had only
made him all too aware that Zoe wasn’t there with him.

  Putting that thought away in the mental lockbox, where he kept all things Zoe, he made another turn that took him past the high wrought iron gates of the cemetery, and along the water to the house in question.

  The Queen Anne–era Victorian boasted three stories, four fireplaces, a turret and a curved porch with a view of both water and mountains. Back when it had been built by a timber baron in the late 1800s, at least two of the five acres it sat on had been gardens, which had long ago gone to weed.

  He was standing on temporary gravel that had been planned to be a stone paver driveway, hands on his hips, looking up at the new slate roof that had cost an arm and leg but was historically accurate, when Brianna pulled up behind his truck.

  The first thing he noticed when she climbed out of the snazzy red convertible, which wasn’t all that practical for the rainy Pacific Northwest, was how long her legs were. Why hadn’t he ever noticed that before? She was wearing a pair of cropped skinny jeans and a shirt blooming with hibiscus blossoms open over a white tank top. Her turquoise flats had little bows on the toes like the ones he remembered on Zoe’s ballet slippers during those years her mother had made her take dance lessons. Hopefully, Zoe had complained, with a roll of her expressive dark eyes, to make her more girly so she’d give up any idea of being a soldier.

  Which, duh, hadn’t worked all that well since once Zoe Robinson got an idea in her head, it was impossible to shake it out. Still, those pale pink slippers with the lace-up ribbons and scuffed-up soles she was always having to clean were why those combat boots he’d last seen his wife wearing at her deployment ceremony at JBLM had always seemed so out of place.

  Seeing his new best human friend again, Bandit loped over and jumped up, putting his paws on Brianna’s shoulders. At the same time a cloud overhead started spitting rain, making her colorful Las Vegas–style outfit all the more impractical. Which, even as he yelled at his dog to get down, had Seth wondering if it would really be possible for a woman who’d harbored such glamorous, big-city dreams to come home again.

 

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