Still, it didn’t detract from the breathtaking view below and around it. I’d seen pictures of the space via email a few weeks back but the images hadn’t revealed the stunning view that surrounded the build site.
To the right were mountains, gentle and rolling from one tree-covered hillside to another. I scanned left and watched as the trees gave way to reveal grass and then farmland. Empty fields, either currently unused or too early to be planted in. Rich dirt that left the scent of earth in the air even way up here where the wind caught and carried everything to you in a single smell.
As soon as I’d soaked up the scenery, I turned back to the site. My mind raced ahead to images of structure, foundations, positioning—which way was sunrise?—columns and antebellum accents and—
“Oh, good, you made it,” a friendly female voice interrupted my daydreaming and mental planning. I blinked and found Summer headed my way across the grassy yard from the camper. Shorts and boots and honey-brown hair flying free in the wind, Summer Stafford looked completely … belonging. It was a comfortable thought. A pleasant image. And for the first time, a small-towner didn’t put my back up.
“Miss Stafford.” I stuck my hand out, switching to professional mode automatically.
Summer scrunched her nose. “I’m not that much older than you. Just Summer or it’s weird.”
I laughed. “Got it. Then it’s just Jordan for me.”
Summer smiled and we shook.
“Is Ford here?” I asked, nodding at the camper behind me.
“He’ll be here later. Dad called him down to the house for some new seed-strain idea. They’ll be wrapped up in the greenhouse for hours,” she said with a good-natured eye-roll. “Thanks for meeting me. Did you make it up here okay?”
“Casey let me borrow his truck. And I found it just fine with your directions.”
Summer nodded, an apologetic smile already forming on her lips. “So you decided to take the room then? I wondered if I’d hear from you last night.”
“I…” I hesitated for a second, unsure how much to admit. Summer was close to Casey and I didn’t want to overstep. But she’d clearly been in on Frank’s little trick and knew I’d been pushed blindly into the whole thing.
I settled for vague but honest. My specialty. “I‘m taking it one day at a time. But for now, I’m taking the room.”
“Always a good strategy where Casey’s concerned,” she agreed. “I know Casey can be … a bit much sometimes. Glad to see you can handle him.”
“I don’t plan on handling him at all,” I said, snapping the words out before I knew it. I realized belatedly, I’d taken it way further than she’d meant it. But then it was too late. The comment was out there.
“Of course,” Summer said, nodding and giving me a look that made me feel guilty for a crime I’d yet to commit. “Look, for what it’s worth, I’m sorry about not telling you. I’ve learned to trust Frank and honestly, to stay out of it when he decides to pull something like this. I hope it doesn’t ruin things between us or the project.”
My shoulders relaxed and I shook my head. “I appreciate it. I was surprised but it worked out. I have a place to stay and Casey has some extra income. I just … I’ve been a little unbalanced lately. A lot of personal changes and my manners—and temper—are a little off. This project has been a great distraction.” I smiled brightly, knowing full well my eyes were brimming with moisture.
Summer, to her credit, ignored it all and smiled back. “Well, let’s talk about this project then, shall we?”
I grabbed onto the subject change like a lifeline and ran with it. “Sure, I’d love to show you some sketches I did just based on our emails and the measurements you sent. Now that I’ve seen the space, I can make some changes to enhance your property and positioning but here’s the basic idea.” I held up my sketchbook and the printed schematics I’d brought and Summer leaned in to take a closer look.
For the next hour, Summer and I went back and forth on my sketches and ideas and mapping out a clear plan for design and the timeline of work to follow. Any grief or lingering stress I’d brought with me fell away and I became absorbed in describing my vision and fielding Summer’s questions.
This was my element. Nothing else could touch me here.
The sun rose higher and by the time we’d finished my brow and back were lined with sweat. I swiped at my forehead and Summer smiled. “Come on, I’ve got water in the truck.”
We made our way back down the wooded path just as a third pickup rolled to a stop beside Summer’s. Ford and an older man got out of the cab and came around.
“You made it. Jordan, I hear you met Ford yesterday,” Summer said, making the introductions as she handed me a water. She paused to plant a quick kiss on her fiancé’s cheek. When she pulled back, they lingered a moment, staring into each other’s eyes, and I found myself touched in by their obvious connection. “And this is my dad. Dean Stafford, owner of Heritage Plantation.”
Dean Stafford stepped forward, his weathered face an older and more masculine version of Summer’s. The resemblance between them was undeniable.
“Pleasure, Mr. Stafford,” I said, shaking his outstretched hand. He smiled back at me with the same friendliness his daughter exuded.
“Pleasure’s mine,” he said. “I hear you’re a genius with design. Summer can’t stop talking about your ideas.”
“Genius might be a little strong,” I said, shifting under the praise.
“I don’t know,” Ford said, slipping an arm around Summer’s waist. “If you’ve found a way to put up with Casey, maybe you’re smarter than the rest of us.”
Summer laughed and Dean shot me a smile that twinkled all the way into his eyes. I tried to match it but averted my gaze. I did not want to talk about Casey, but I couldn’t exactly tell them to back off, not when the man carrying the purse strings was staring straight at me.
Thankfully, Mr. Stafford seemed to understand I didn’t want to talk about it. “Well, I know my vote doesn’t count for near as much as Summer’s, but I’d like to have a look at the house I’m funding. Let’s have a look at those plans, shall we?”
I shot him a grateful smile and stepped up. “Sure, I think you’ll really like some of the ideas Summer came up with earlier.”
Ford lowered the tailgate on the truck and I spread the sketches out for everyone to see. Within moments, any apprehension or self-consciousness faded. Summer’s lit expression matched my own excitement as we laid out our grand plans for the men. I could practically feel Dad nodding over my shoulder in approval as I described my vision. And I knew, deep down inside me, this house was going to be the best thing I’d ever designed.
***
By late afternoon, the sun’s rays slanted sideways through the budding leaves and narrow branches at our backs. Summer’s honey highlights caught a sharp glint, framing her face like a halo.
“Thanks again for today,” she said and my smile spread at the sight of her anticipation—enough to match my own.
The men had left an hour ago, leaving us girls to continue brainstorming and daydreaming about the finished product. Summer was particularly excited about my idea for a porch swing—which made me like her even more.
“I’m thrilled to be chosen,” I told her, “and honestly, it’s great to see a client so excited about their project.”
Summer’s brows dipped. “Isn’t everyone excited to design their own place?”
“You would think but no,” I said with a shrug. “And not even just the commercial builders I’ve dealt with but some private owners too. Strange, right? Spend all that time and money and be so blasé about it, but that’s New England money, I guess.”
Summer nodded knowingly. “My mom used to have these country club friends when I was younger. Really ... aloof, I guess you’d called it. It’s like the more money they had, the less emotion they were capable of showing. Everything was ‘acceptable,’” she finished in a nasally voice.
We laughed and Sum
mer reached for my arm, squeezing it. “I’m glad you came out. And I really am sorry about the thing with Casey. If you don’t like it there, you can always come stay with me and my dad. We have plenty of room at the farm.”
“I’m fine at Casey’s,” I assured her. And because I could sense her about to ask something more, I pressed on, bringing it back to the work she’d hired me for. “And I’m looking forward to getting started on all of this. I really love the designs you’ve chosen for your house.”
“Thanks. Me too. Ford thinks it’s ostentatious, but then he wants to live in a greenhouse so … I’m glad someone gets it.”
“Definitely,” I said. “Well, I better get going. It’s getting late.”
“Sure.” Summer reached for her handle and turned back. “Oh, wait. We’re doing dinner tonight at the Plantation. Everyone’s invited, staff and families. You’re welcome to come too if you’re free. Meet a few faces.”
My chest tightened at the thought of all the questions that were sure to accompany a roomful of strangers. “I think I’m all booked up but thanks for the offer.”
“You have plans tonight?” Summer asked, clearly surprised.
“Are you kidding? After the day we put in, a bubble bath and a glass of wine are calling my name.”
Summer smiled but her brows dipped in concern. “Fair enough. But if you change your mind, you should stop by. I think you’d have fun. The staff is pretty entertaining when you get them all together.”
Her genuine smile and obvious affection for these people she’d grown up with tugged at me. My chest ached for Gavin, for my dad, for someone familiar to share an evening with. But I shook my head. Familiarity, friendship; these were not the real reasons I was here. And just like that, my own elation at being hired was eclipsed by the familiar aching loneliness. Dad. He was the reason I was here. I’d lost him, and in his absence I’d agreed to meet the two people I hated most in the world.
Suddenly, going to dinner with Summer and her friends was the last thing I wanted. “I’m sure they are. I just don’t think that’s the kind of fun I’m looking for tonight.”
Summer softened and I caught a glimpse of sympathy before it disappeared. I hadn’t told her anything about me and already she felt sorry. Pity was the last thing I wanted right now. “If you change your mind, you know where to find us.”
That was the problem. In a town like this one, someone always knew where you were. Right now, all I wanted to do was hide.
Chapter Eight
Casey
My trigger-happy finger scrolled channels while I pretended to consider my on-screen options. Instead, I was considering my off-screen options with the concentration of a bomb tech. I was supposed to have been down at the farmhouse half an hour ago for dinner. Instead, I was inventing reasons to stay put on my couch.
Music—light indie rock from what I could hear over the television—leaked out from behind Jordan’s closed bedroom door. So did the damn scent of her—that bubble bath earlier almost killed me. She was driving me crazy. Was this what it was like living with a female? Damn feminine smells lingering about all the time?
She’d been here all of forty-eight hours and already my head was spinning. I’d never been in close quarters like this with a girl before—not for this long and not with one I wasn’t sleeping with. Everywhere I looked, she’d already left a mark. Shoes by the door, a jacket thrown over the kitchen chair, an open wine bottle on the coffee table along with the receipt from the corner mart detailing the bubble bath she’d purchased—I’d never let any girl leave more than a toothbrush so this was definitely a huge step.
I tried to recall exactly what I’d been thinking—other than getting laid without leaving my own house—but I came up empty. My knee bounced along in time to my nerves. I clicked through another channel.
In Jordan’s room, something heavy landed with a thud and I scooted to the edge of the couch and waited. Silence.
“You all right?” I called.
Nothing.
I clicked the TV off and went to Jordan’s door, hesitating. We hadn’t exactly laid out any ground rules for privacy—other than Jordan’s one rule about keeping clothes on. Which I intended to break at some point. Why did I feel like a creeper just for standing here then?
I knocked. “You okay in there?” I asked and the music shut off.
There was a long pause, and then soft footsteps shuffled closer. The door swung open.
Jordan blinked back at me, frowning. Even with the less-than-thrilled reception, my pulse quickened at the sight of her all fresh-faced with damp hair hanging over a white tank. “I’m fine. Why?”
I averted my gaze, hoping to hide the fact that she screamed sex right now. And my body was happy to scream it right back. Behind her, the room was a mess of clothes strewn about. The sparse furniture had already been rearranged with the full bed shoved against the opposite wall.
My brows rose. “Redecorating?”
“Changing the vibe,” she said, turning back to her messy room. She left the door hanging open and I hovered, uncertain whether it was an invitation or just a slip on her part.
“What’s wrong with the vibe?” I asked.
“Nothing yet,” she said, scooping up a pile of T-shirts and dumping them into a dresser drawer. “But the next time you decide to have a party, I don’t want my walls vibrating …or thumping or whatever.” She shrugged and I stared at her, eyes narrowing as her meaning became clear.
“Do you pre-judge everyone this quickly or is it just me?”
She looked up and her jaw fell open a little. “What? No, I didn’t mean…” Her face flushed, contrasting with her blonde hair in a way that made my irritation harder to hang onto. “I didn’t mean it like that … I wasn’t going to ask you to change anything about your life so I was thinking I’d make it easier on me to … never mind.”
Gone was the judgy city girl. In her place was a blushing, fumbling version that I wanted to kiss pretty damn bad all of a sudden.
Instead, I folded my arms over my chest and smirked. “I told you before, I don’t have a girlfriend.”
“Oh, well, I didn’t know if that mattered or not for you when it came to…” she trailed off, reddening again.
Oh, yeah, this was going to be fun. “If you wanted to know that bad, you should’ve just asked.” I took a step forward but Jordan shook her head.
“It’s none of my business—”
“Sex in general or sex with me?” Jordan glared and I laughed, enjoying the way she turned embarrassment into a death-stare competition. “I’m not going to bring girls over while you live here,” I added.
“Well … you can,” she finally blurted.
I took a step closer, watching her visibly tense at our closeness. “Thanks for the free pass. But I’d be an idiot when I’ve already got the hottest girl in the county sleeping across the hall.”
Jordan’s chin went up. “I told you, I’m not looking for a hookup. I need a room while I do my job. That’s it.”
“And I’m a redneck—not your type. I get it.” I threw up my hands in defense.
“I never said that.”
“Didn’t have to. Doesn’t matter,” I added before she could argue again. “I’m not trying to hook up.” Yet, I silently added. “I’m just trying to be friendly.”
I winked and Jordan looked less than impressed. She propped a hand on her hip. “And that’s how friends act down here? Flirting in each other’s bedrooms late at night with strangers?”
“It’s not late,” I said and earned a tiny smile. “And if you told me something about yourself, you wouldn’t be a stranger.”
She sighed, wisps of blonde hair sent flying as she huffed. “All right,” she said and I almost fell over. I hadn’t actually expected her to give in and warm up. In fact, I was all set to turn on my heel and leave it alone for the night. Quit while I was ahead or whatever Frank was always saying.
Jordan sat on the edge of her bed and nodded at me. I s
lid to the floor right where I was, my back propped against her newly placed dresser. If it was conversation she wanted, it was best for me to keep out of reach.
“What do you want to know?” she asked.
“Well, I know your name’s Jordan DeWalter since you changed your mind on the paperwork,” I said. Jordan rolled her eyes and I knew why. I hadn’t asked for or needed a written lease but she’d insisted the moment I’d gotten home earlier. We’d argued over it for an hour. Unsurprisingly, she’d won and we’d both signed something she’d written up herself, complete with house rules.
It had taken me all of five seconds to place her last name and even less time to realize I wasn’t going to ask about the possible relation until she willingly divulged. It made me wonder, though, if the DeWalter I knew over in Windsor had anything to do with the angry look Jordan wore whenever she mentioned people from a small town. If so, I couldn’t blame her.
But I still wanted to know her. And here she was; apparently going to let me try.
“Where’d you grow up?” I asked.
“Connecticut. My dad was an IT guy for a government contractor after retiring from the Navy a few years back so he did a lot of work for the base nearby.”
“Was?” I asked.
Jordan’s expression immediately went blank and I regretted even asking, already knowing what was coming.
“He died six months ago,” she said, her voice suddenly hoarse. “Leukemia.”
“Shit, Jordan, I’m sorry.” I cussed myself for not recognizing the grief. She was disguising it as anger, but now that she’d told me, I couldn’t believe I hadn’t picked up on it before. It was that gooey center I’d suspected all along. Only, it wasn’t armored over because of an ex. She’d lost a parent.
A Bet Worth Making (Grayson County #2) Page 6