by Jaci Burton
“Okay, fine. Maybe I just wanted a fresh start. Seeing the pain linger in my dad from the divorce was a hard thing. I wanted to get away from it all. From the ranch, from my brothers, from anything and everything that reminded me of my mother.”
She appreciated his honesty. Most guys weren’t so self-aware, and if they were, would certainly never admit it. She could still feel that pain and anger radiating off of him. Maybe he’d run away from it and hadn’t yet reconciled it. “I understand the need to run from that kind of pain. But you know, at some point you have to deal with it.”
His gaze met hers and he smiled. “No, I don’t. I’ve been doing fine all these years never dealing with it.”
She laid her hand over his. “Have you?”
“Do I look unhappy?”
“Well . . . no.”
“I’ve had a couple romantic relationships. One long-term. I don’t hate women. I stayed in close contact with my father until he died. Obviously I get along great with my brothers. See? Normal.”
“What about your mom?”
“What about her?”
“Have you talked to her since she left all those years ago?”
“No. None of us has.”
“She hasn’t contacted any of you?”
“No.”
“And you haven’t tried to find her.”
“No.”
She couldn’t understand that. How could a mother leave her children like that? Maybe a week of unhappiness, fleeing the ranch, taking a vacation or something. But . . . forever? It just didn’t register with her. She’d give anything for five minutes with her parents again.
“Don’t you want to see her again?”
“No. She made her choice to leave us. That chapter of our lives is closed.”
“Is it?”
He cocked his head to the side. “Something you want to say, Sam?”
She clasped her hands together. “Probably, but it’s none of my business.”
“Go ahead. Say it.”
She’d never been one to keep a thought to herself, even though it often got her into trouble. “Okay. Somehow I doubt that the chapter of your mother is closed. It seems to me that her leaving all of you has left a giant gaping wound somewhere in the vicinity of your heart and in the hearts of your brothers.”
He stared at her for what seemed like a very long minute.
And then he laughed. Like a loud, long, man laugh.
“Did you read that somewhere or did you see that in some movie on one of those women’s channels?”
Her brows rose. “Excuse me? Women’s channels?”
“Yeah, you know. Those channels that show all those romantic movies, where there’s drama and angst and then ninety minutes later everything that’s wrong with a guy or a girl or a relationship is wrapped up in a neat tidy bow and everyone lives happily ever after.”
She stared at him. “I cannot believe you just said that.”
“So that means you watch them, right? And even worse, you actually believe that shit?”
She got up from the porch swing and turned to look down at him. “I am no longer interested in having this conversation with you.”
She could still hear him laughing as she opened the door and went back inside.
She would never try to help him again.
REID PROBABLY SHOULDN’T have laughed, but honestly, he could have telegraphed what Sam was going to say from the look of concern on her face.
And okay, maybe he’d been an asshole about it, but he and his brothers had long ago written off their mother. She’d been long gone emotionally from their lives well before she’d physically left. Martha had stepped in and filled the position of mother, especially emotionally. And God knows Dad had more than been there for them.
So some deep emotional chasm? Hell, no. There wasn’t a goddamn thing missing in his life as a result of his mother’s departure. He’d felt bad for his dad, because for some reason, his old man had loved the selfish, narcissistic, cold-hearted woman. At least at first. And he’d remained committed to her despite her obvious hatred for everything his father had loved. Until she’d up and left and divorced him and abandoned her children.
As for Reid, he’d never received a moment of love from her, so he couldn’t miss what he’d never had. His maternal needs had all been filled by Martha.
And none of that had anything to do with his decision to take a job in Boston.
Sometimes women liked to delve a little too deeply into emotional shit that wasn’t there in the first place. And he damn well did blame those ridiculous TV shows that painted love and romance and family in a fake light.
Real life was nothing like that. Real life was complicated, and it didn’t turn around and right itself in an hour and a half.
If it had, his mother wouldn’t have been a cold bitch on wheels, wouldn’t have broken his father’s heart, and wouldn’t have walked out on him and his brothers.
But he wasn’t wounded about it.
Goddammit.
Chapter 11
WOMEN’S SHOWS. WHAT kind of moronic, sexist, archaic way of thinking was that? Sam wanted to take off one of her awesomely gorgeous stiletto shoes and shove it up Reid’ s—
With a sigh, she folded her arms across her stomach and continued to pace alone in one of the spare bedrooms upstairs. She needed to blow off some steam alone before going back downstairs, before facing Reid again, before she said something she would regret.
Though he had no problem letting all kinds of stupid things fall out of his mouth. And she’d thought he was perfect.
Ha. He was about as perfect as her kitchen. On the surface, yeah, it was cute. Until you looked closer and identified the flaws. That was Reid. Hot and sexy and looked perfect. Until she had a deep conversation with him and realized what a complete jackass he was.
Enough. If she kept thinking about him, she was going to find him and tell him what she really thought about him and his opinions.
She finally gathered her wits about her enough to make her way back downstairs. Spotting Megan and Brady, she made her way over to them.
“I was looking for you two earlier and couldn’t find you.”
“We took a walk around the ranch to look things over,” Brady said.
“In those heels?” Sam asked.
Megan laughed. “I can do anything in these heels.”
Sam wondered what “anything” meant, but she figured she would ask Megan later.
“We were just heading out,” Megan said.
“Great. Can I get a ride back to town with the two of you?” she asked.
“Of course,” Megan said. “But isn’t Reid taking you home?”
She didn’t want to get into it—at least not with Brady standing there. “No sense in Reid driving all the way back to Hope and then have to drive back here to the ranch.”
“Makes sense,” Brady said. “I’d be happy to give you a ride.”
“Great. Let me say good-bye to everyone.”
The last thing she wanted was to spend any more time with Reid than necessary. She found Des and Logan and thanked them for a wonderful evening, then, deciding to be polite, told Reid she was grabbing a ride with Brady and Megan.
He looked confused. “I had planned to take you home.”
“No reason for you to have to make the trip. I have a ride. Besides, there are some great women’s shows on TV that I’m dying to get home and watch.”
He frowned. “Sam—”
“Thanks for the invite, Reid. I’ll talk to you later.”
Or, quite possibly, never. She turned on her heel and headed out the door with Megan and Brady.
The ride home was filled mostly with dinner talk, though as for talk, it was her and Megan doing all the talking. Brady was generally quiet except for one-word answers like “yup” and “great.” She gave him directions to her house, and he dropped her off first.
“I’ll call you tomorrow,” Megan said.
“Okay, great.
Thanks for the ride, Brady.”
“Anytime.”
She went inside and tossed her purse and sweater on the table, then kicked off her shoes and slid onto the sofa.
She was tired. She should get undressed and go to bed.
But just because she felt a wee bit catty at the moment, she grabbed the remote, surfed to a particular channel, and found the perfect movie. She pulled her feet underneath her and settled in to watch the romance unfold.
Reid McCormack could suck it.
Chapter 12
“ELECTRICAL’S SHOT,” DEACON said as he and Reid stood side by side in the main room downstairs. “Just about what we figured in a building this old. HVAC will need to be completely replaced, too. We haven’t dug into the plumbing yet, but my guess from what my guys have been able to dig up so far is that your plumbing is shit—no pun intended.”
Reid took a long swallow of his coffee, sucked in some much-needed oxygen, and glared at Deacon. “Do you have any good news for me?”
“The tin ceiling will be able to stay. We took a few of the tiles down, and there’s no rot in the floor beams on the second floor, so you’re good to go with keeping that ceiling intact. We’ll get her polished up and looking like new.”
“I’ll look forward to helping with that.” He had a major hard-on for that tin ceiling. Replicas were one thing. An original? That was something else.
“Now that we’ve pulled the drywall out on the north side of the building, we found original brick wall.”
“I saw that,” Reid said with a grin. “My intent is to clean up that brick and leave that wall exposed. It’ll add some historical character to the building and spaces.”
“Then you’re going to be one happy sonofabitch, because the walls are like that on all three stories.”
“That is good news.”
One piece, at least. He knew with a hundred-plus-year-old building that there would be a lot that needed to be replaced. But getting hit with that news all at once was like a gut punch. Good thing he’d already warned his brothers that there would need to be a lot of upgrades, so at least they were financially prepared for the hit.
Now that demo had been completed, it was easier to see the bones of the building. With the walls torn out and that hideous dropped ceiling gone, the bottom floor seemed much more expansive. The brick wall was beautiful. Now Reid could envision what would be, which was the potential for retail space. And there was plenty of room down here now.
“Ready to take a walk upstairs?” Deacon asked.
“Yeah.”
While Deacon was all about structure, Reid was all about design. As they made their way upstairs, Reid ran his hands over the carved wood banister, itching to get it polished and gleaming, as it once was. Some of the wood planks on the staircase would have to be replaced, but they could refinish most of it. Now that they’d cleaned it off, it wasn’t as bad as he’d thought when he’d given it the initial once-over.
He wanted to retain as much of the original surfaces as possible, while still keeping safety in mind.
The second floor had been gutted down to the studs as well, and now showcased tall windows, exposed brick walls, and tons of potential. Third floor was much the same. Reid could already envision office space up here, his imagination awash in visions of where he’d put a desk, where morning sun would shine in through those amazing windows, where—
“Come take a look at the plumbing issues we have up here.”
Eh. Reality reared its ugly head, destroying his fantasies about ideal office space. Not that it would be his office space, anyway. But he’d sure as hell look forward to designing one kick-ass office for . . . somebody.
He and Deacon went over the plumbing on the second and third floors. Deacon was right—it was a mess and would have to be totally redone. He added that expense to his notebook as they walked the floors, at the same time letting his mind wander.
He had a plan drawn up—a solid one for space on the second and third floors. He knew where every bathroom would go, the square footage of every office.
He couldn’t wait to see it all unfold. But right now? Plumbing, electrical, and HVAC.
“I’ve got elevator people coming in Thursday,” Deacon said. “I walked in there and it’s pretty cool-looking, but I haven’t dared try to ride up in it.”
Reid nodded. “That thing looks like a death trap.”
“Yeah, no telling if it’s salvageable or if you’ll need an entirely new elevator.”
He was hoping for the former. That elevator was a piece of history, with its cage door and manual lever. “My guess is it’s probably going to have to be replaced to meet code and ADA requirements. Which is too bad.”
“I don’t know,” Deacon said. “We might be able to do the upgrades and still maintain some of the original features.”
Reid shrugged. “We have tenant and visitor safety to think about first. We’ll see what the mechanics think after they review it.”
“Okay. I’ll make a note to have a discussion about it in our meeting on Friday.”
Deacon typed that into his netbook.
“Let’s meet with the HVAC and plumbing people tomorrow,” Reid said as they made their way downstairs. “I want to make sure we have the plans all laid out, that the timeline is set, and materials are ordered to spec. If anything needs to be realigned on this project due to materials replacement, I want to adjust it now on the front end.”
Deacon nodded. “I’ll get everyone in my office that needs to be there. Eight o’clock all right with you?”
“That works.”
“Great.”
He left Deacon to his work and stepped outside. The dog looked up at him from his spot on the porch.
“I suppose you want a walk now,” he said to the dog, who stood, shook his body from head to tail, then wagged said tail back and forth.
“Fine. But like I keep telling you, you have a mega-thousand-acre ranch you could have the run of if you’d just stay there instead of following me around.”
The dog cocked his head to the side and smiled, his long pink tongue sticking out the side of his mouth.
“Whatever, dude. Let’s go.”
He grabbed the dog’s leash and headed toward the park.
“Nice dog, Reid.”
Reid nodded at Bobby Jameson, owner of the barber shop.
“Thanks. It’s not my dog.”
“That’s what I keep hearing.” Bobby bent and scratched the dog’s ears. “How you doin’ today, fella?”
The dog totally ate up all the attention, especially when Megan came out of the bakery and stopped to pet the dog, too.
“Hey, Reid. How’s Not My Dog doing today?”
Reid frowned. “Huh?”
Megan looked up at him. “Your dog. Not My Dog.”
“That’s not his name.”
“Really. Then what is it?”
“Uh . . .”
“Everyone’s taken to calling him Not My Dog, since that’s what you keep telling everyone,” Bobby said, straightening as a customer headed into his shop. “Good to see you, Reid.” He looked down at the dog. “Not My Dog.”
Bobby headed inside, leaving him with Megan, who gave him a smirk.
“See? It’s a great name, by the way. I need to run. Talk to you later, Reid.” She bent down to rub the dog’s ears. “You, too, Not My Dog.”
Reid watched Megan walk away, then looked down at the dog.
“Not My Dog?”
The dog’s ears perked up, and his tail swished back and forth.
“Oh, for God’s sake. Really?”
Not My Dog moved toward him, planting a front paw on Reid’s foot.
“So you like that name.”
The dog wriggled back and forth as if to say, Totally digging the name. Even if you weren’t the one smart enough to come up with it.
“Whatever, Not My Dog. Let’s head to the park.”
SAMANTHA DIDN’T MEAN to walk out of the floral shop just at
the moment Reid and Not My Dog were making their way toward the park. She had an armload of deliveries, so ducking back inside wasn’t an option. She was just going to have to suck it up and ignore him. Or worse, be pleasant.
Maybe she’d get lucky and he wouldn’t notice her.
She went outside and opened the doors of the delivery van, trying to keep her head down and focus on getting the flowers inside the van.
She heard footsteps, mentally cursing her lousy timing when Reid came around the side of the van.
“Hey, Sam. I thought I saw you come outside.”
She looked up and forced a smile. “Oh, hi, Reid. I was just about to leave. I have some deliveries to make.” She looked down at the dog, unable to resist cradling his cute face between her hands. “Hey, Not My Dog.”
“Does everyone know about the dog’s name?”
She lifted her gaze to Reid’s, her stomach tumbling at the way his sexy eyes were trained so seriously on hers. “Of course. Word travels fast around here. It’s a great name, by the way.”
“I didn’t name him.”
She shrugged. “You kind of did, actually.”
“Okay, maybe I did, but not intentionally. He’s not my dog.”
She was not in the mood for his attitude. “He kind of is, actually. He follows you to work every day, doesn’t he?”
“Well, yeah, but that’s not my fault. He’s not my dog.”
She held out both hands toward the dog, and then to him. “And thus his new name is born. You should get used to the idea that he’s yours. Because like it or not, he’s claimed you.”
Reid sighed. Sam knew she was irritated for no rational reason whatsoever, which meant retreat was probably a really good idea right now.
“I need to go, Reid. I’ll see you later, okay?”
“Oh, sure. Later, Sam.”
She walked around to the driver’s side of the van and climbed in. Suddenly, Reid was right there, looking up at her through the driver’s side window. She rolled the window down. “Yes?”
“Are you mad at me for some reason?”
“No. Yes. I don’t know, maybe. I don’t have time to get into it.”
“Would you have time later?”