Pax followed but turned around to add, “Bacon cheeseburgers with fries.”
“I get it. It’s not my company you want but free food,” I called after their retreating bodies.
Once the door closed, I glanced out the window. It was a beautiful early evening in Frazier Falls. The sky resembled a watercolor painting with yellow bleeding into orange then to blue and purple. Suddenly, I wished I’d left with my brothers to secure a perfect spot by the creek, but I had to finish these plans. Otherwise, they’d eat away at me until I returned.
After an hour of hard, focused work, they were complete except for some minor details that needed fixing, but it would be better to look at them with fresh eyes in the morning. Smiling contentedly, I tucked the plans into a folder and flagged down Alice.
“Left you with the bill again?” She approached and slipped the check on the edge of the table.
“Oh, Mrs. Bransen, you know my brothers, they’re nothing if not opportunists.” I picked up the check and handed it back to her. “I’ll need three bacon cheeseburgers with fries to go.”
“Oh, please, isn’t it time you called me Alice? You commandeered your own booth nearly a year ago. We’re far past titles, don’t you think?”
“And yet, my manners run too deeply for me to abandon them.” I always had this fear that my mother had some connection to the gods, and showing a lack of respect would earn me a heavenly lightning bolt straight to my ass.
Alice laughed. “Always the charmer, Owen Cooper. No wonder all the young girls are crazy about you. Now, if you’d only settle down.”
I rolled my eyes. Alice brought up my single status with regularity. There was no doubt, my brothers and I were the talk at the knitting club. “I’m too old for those young girls you mention, but Eli and Pax are hot commodities.” I’d once heard we’d been dubbed Frazier Falls’ most eligible bachelors. Not surprising, since we were the only single men north of eighteen and south of sixty.
Of the three of us Cooper kids, I was the oldest, then Eli, and then Paxton. Two of us were tall and well-built with black hair and blue eyes. Paxton shared the blue eyes and the height, but his hair was the color of sand, an attribute he inherited from our mother. Blond and blue-eyed, he was always the odd man out when it came to looks, the exact opposite of Eli and me.
“Don’t count yourself out. A young, talented architect, with his own business and a nice house, is nothing to overlook. Not to mention how handsome you are—” She brushed her hair from her blush-bloomed cheeks.
“It’s not only my business, Mrs. Bransen,” I interrupted. “My brothers are equal partners. We’re a team.”
She smiled. “You’re modest, too. It’s a wonder you’re not married.”
“I’m married to my job.”
She laughed. “Your job won’t warm your bed.”
I smiled at her. “That’s what blankets are for.”
There was one thing consistent about living in a small town. When you were over thirty, everyone thought you should settle down. My mantra was to never settle for anything. I was of the belief that single wasn’t synonymous with lonely, but marriage was another word for trouble. If you loved someone enough to marry them, you gave them the power to break your heart. I’d never liked anyone enough to give them that kind of control over me. I’d survived many things, but a broken heart wasn’t one of them. It had killed my father, and that was reason enough for me to stay clear of love.
“Youth … wasted on the young. Three bacon cheeseburger combos, coming up.”
Twenty minutes later, I paid Alice for my purchases and headed toward home. When I reached the creek, my brothers were already deep into their downtime.
“You are aware that tomorrow is Friday, right?” I asked as I cracked open a beer.
Paxton flashed a tipsy smile. Out of the three of us, he was the worst at handling his booze, but funny to watch.
“Your point?” he fired back.
“My point is you have work in the morning.”
“Aw, come on,” Eli chimed in. “What’s a slightly late start among brothers? Look around you. It’s a beautiful evening. Let’s sit back, relax, enjoy the meal you brought and drink a beer or two or three.”
And like that, I broke. I was supposed to be the older, more sensible brother, but ultimately, I wasn’t. I loved this relaxed pace. It was far superior to the life I led in New York. Most people would have killed to keep their job at a prestigious architecture firm, but after Dad died, all I wanted was to help Eli create Cooper Construction. Keeping things slow and steady was best for everyone, especially me.
I collapsed onto the grassy bank of the creek with an exaggerated sigh. “Fine, you got me. Late start tomorrow it is.”
My brothers cheered as if I had any say in the matter. I lay back on the grass, closing my eyes as I soaked in the waning sunlight. This was the life. This was all I wanted. All I needed.
Pax broke the silence. “You have that date with Ruthie tomorrow night, don’t you?”
I suppressed a groan. I’d forgotten about the date.
He pegged me with a bottle cap. It hit my elbow and ricocheted into the nearby grass. “You forgot. Didn’t you?”
Eli laughed. “I can see it on your face. You totally forgot the date.” He popped another beer and drank deeply. “Cancel if you don’t want to go.”
“I’m not going to cancel on her with less than twenty-four hours’ notice and no good reason. The woman serves us drinks at Reilly’s. You want us to get barred?” The thought of the date made my heart race but not in a good way. I took several deep breaths to calm my twisted insides. Ruthie wasn’t the girl for me, but saying so meant there would be consequences.
“Oh, hell no,” Pax shouted. “You’re going on that damn date even if I have to drag you there.”
“Like I said, I wasn’t going to cancel. I forgot. It’s been a busy week.”
“Do you even like her?” Pax asked. He grabbed another beer and twisted off the cap.
I made a noncommittal noise. I liked Ruthie as a person. Liked her well enough to say yes to a date, but not enough to commit to much more, and she’d want more.
“Did you get your work finished?” Eli asked, thankfully changing the subject.
I nodded and opened my eyes wide enough to glance at him. “Only a couple things to look at tomorrow, but yeah, it’s done.”
He gave me a small smile. Of my brothers, Eli, alone, knew how much this meant to me. He’d seen the time and effort I’d poured into this project when I thought nobody was looking. I appreciated that he wasn’t making a big deal about it.
Pax tackled me on the grass. It was a moot point considering I was already lying down. With a yell of surprise, I barely kept my beer bottle upright and out of the way.
“If that isn’t a cause for celebration, then I don’t know what is,” he said.
After a few minutes of wrestling, Eli brought over a fresh beer for each of us.
A heavy night of drinking was coming on, but I didn’t mind. Exciting things could be coming our way if I could nail these plans. The success of my Green House Project would change our lives. We’d be able to make the homes we wanted, rather than the ones we had to. I lifted my beer. “All for one.”
Eli and Pax clinked their bottles together and replied, “And one for all.”
Chapter Three
Owen
With my folder in one hand and a cup of coffee in the other, I entered my office mid-afternoon to find Pax sitting in the chair at the front of my desk.
He frowned. “Alice didn’t have a cup for me?”
With a thunk, I plopped into my seat and set my mug on the wooden surface.
“I’d suggest you trot downstairs and get a cup. I supplied the burgers and fries. You can get your own coffee.”
He slid the local paper across my desk, opened it up to the center, and showed me the standard Friday ad for the Stevenson Mill.
“The price of Douglas fir has gone way down. Did
n’t you need to order more for your Green House Project? This sale is great for you.”
I bolted into a straight-backed seated position. My heart stilled.
“Shit. The lumber order.”
“What’s wrong?” Pax set the paper down and leaned forward.
“I made a massive error when I calculated the base resources required for the build.” I pulled the plans from the folder and reconfigured them. I’d factored in the costs and quantities for the cheaper pine and spruce that made up the bulk of each house, but in my excitement, I hadn’t considered the Douglas fir we’d use for the outside terrace and exposed beams of the bungalow design. “Dammit.” I was an idiot, but at least I knew now rather than not realizing my mistake until the exhibit happened in three weeks. I was showcasing my design during a builder’s expo in Phoenix but hadn’t told my brothers. Telling them would get their hopes up, and if I failed, I wanted to fail alone.
“You need help?”
I shook my head. “Nope. I need silence.”
My brother lifted from his seat and started for the door, no doubt on a mission to find coffee.
It took me several hours to straighten the order out. While the designs for more economical non-terraced and double-story homes only required Douglas fir for their exposed beams, the fact that I had more than one size variation for each design meant my work was tripled. I also had to reduce the amount of pine I needed since, in my rush to finish my plan last night, I’d thrown some fir quantities in with it.
What a mess, but when it was fixed, it was perfect. There was no doubt it was one hundred percent accurate and complete.
Now all I needed was to fix the order Pax had put in with the Stevenson Mill earlier today. I hoped Carl and Rich would be okay with the change.
I’d only spoken to Rich once on the phone in the past few years. I remembered him from high school but had never met his brother. Knew he had a sister but never ran into her either. Maybe small-town life in Frazier Falls wasn’t so small after all. Or … maybe I spent too much time alone.
I walked out of my office and into Paxton’s. Starting the day after noon made closing time come quickly, and I hoped I wasn’t too late to fix my mistake.
“Can you fax this over to the mill?” I pushed the updated order across his desk.
He raised an eyebrow. “It’s after five. They’re closed for the day. If I call, it’ll go to voicemail.”
We all had secondary jobs outside of actual building. Pax was the one who dealt face-to-face with our suppliers. While he was the quietest of the three brothers, there was something about his easy-going, boyish charm that set our clients at ease.
“You don’t think they’d pick up?” My chest tightened, and my throat grew narrow. This was how the panic attacks always began, with too much pressure and no easy solution.
He shook his head. “Even Eli decided not to wait around for you to finish today. It’s the weekend. Who in their right mind would stay at work in case someone called outside of office hours?”
In frustration, I raked a hand through my hair. He had a point, but this couldn’t wait. I had to fix it. If I didn’t, I wouldn’t get any sleep despite my exhaustion. There was the real possibility I’d spend the weekend curled in a ball in the corner. I knew my triggers, and yet, I always pushed myself to the edge.
The clock on the wall showed it was after five. If I left now, I’d arrive before half past the hour. Maybe I’d get lucky and catch one of the Stevensons before they went home for the weekend.
I took my truck keys from my pocket and spun them around my finger as I made my way over to the door. “I’ll head over in case I can catch them. Those corrections can’t wait.”
“Hey,” Pax called out after me.
I stopped and turned around. “What?” I asked impatiently.
He rolled his eyes. “You forgot again, didn’t you?”
“What the hell are you talking about?”
He cocked his head to the right. “Ruthie. Remember? The bartender from Reilly’s that you’re taking to dinner tonight. The woman you don’t want to upset for fear of getting us booted from our favorite bar?”
I ran my hand over my face and sighed. “What time was I meeting her?”
He gave me a level stare. “Are you honestly using me as your calendar? If I have to be your social secretary, I want a bigger cut of the earnings.”
I knew my brother’s strengths, and Pax’s was having a mind like a steel trap. “You never forget a thing. You’re like a sponge or an elephant. Aren’t they supposed to have flawless memories?”
“Yep, I think you’re right, but I’m neither.” He laughed. “Your date is at seven. Pick her up from her place. Don’t take your truck. Definitely take another shower. You smell like stale beer.” He sniffed his own shirt and scrunched up his nose. “Hell, so do I. We must have alcohol seeping from our pores.”
I smiled grimly. “Seven. Her place. Shower. No truck. Got it. See you on Monday.”
“What? You don’t want to see your favorite brother over the weekend?” His voice faded as I gained some distance.
“Whatever,” I threw back as I rushed down the stairs to my truck. I’d wasted precious minutes talking to him when I should have been halfway to the mill by now.
Thankfully, traffic was light. I breezed down Main Street without a delay. Clearly, everyone had left work early to get a head start on the weekend. When I reached the mill, my heart sank. Only one car remained in the parking lot.
What were the odds the car belonged to one of the two people that could help me out? I had to try. Parking alongside the red Subaru, I swung myself out of my truck and made my way inside the building.
It was quiet. All production had ceased for the weekend. The silence gave the large, cold space an unsettling, almost eerie feel, like the set of a horror movie where the saws would buzz to life, and the clueless guest would disappear forever.
I didn’t know where I was going, but eventually I found a door marked ‘R&C Stevenson.’ I took that as a good omen that I’d found the offices of Rich and Carl.
After several calming breaths, I raised my hand. Once, twice, I knocked, and on the third try, the door flung open and revealed the most gorgeous woman I’d ever seen. All thoughts left me as I stared at her.
Her long chestnut hair was gathered high on her head. The flyaway strands framed her beautiful, heart-shaped face. Her eyes were hazel, and in the early evening light, the gold flecks in her irises appeared on fire. Though she was wearing a dirty pair of gray overalls, I imagined she had a killer figure with the way the material flowed over rounded hips.
I realized far too late that I’d been gawking at her. The flush of embarrassment heated my cheeks.
“Um, sorry, I … I was hoping to, um,” I coughed and sputtered.
She ran her eyes from my work boots to the cowlick on the top of my head. Her perusal was thorough and somewhat unsettling in a good way.
“What were you hoping for, Mr. Cooper?”
“I’m looking for … Wait, how do you know who I am?” Surely, I couldn’t have met her before. I would have remembered those eyes. They were half meadow and half sky with a sprinkling of sunshine throughout.
Her mouth quirked up in amusement. “I try to know what all of my clients look like, even if we haven’t met face to face.”
“I’m sorry. Who are you? I need to speak to Rich or Carl Stevenson.”
She laughed, and it was a ridiculously beautiful sound. “That would be me.” She pointed to herself. “Carl, not Rich. Well, Carla.” She offered her hand for a shake. “It’s a pleasure to finally meet you in person, Owen.”
Chapter Four
Carla
“Were you the tomboy that used to pick on Paxton?” Owen asked.
I raised an eyebrow. “Simply defending myself.” My hands moved down to rest on my hips. “Still a tomboy trapped in a woman’s body.”
His eyes skated over the overalls I wore. He turned away from me, shaking
his head as if to collect himself, then looked back and smiled.
I had to admit, the guy was gorgeous, but I knew that already. I had photographs attached to all of my client files, including the three Cooper brothers. Stalking wasn’t my game, but it was easy enough to swipe the pictures from social media and made me appear organized and in the know. I never wanted to get caught by surprise if one of them showed up at the mill, like now, at half-past five on a Friday evening.
“I’m so sorry, Miss Stevenson. Oh, or is it Mrs.? Or …”
“It’s Miss,” I laughed. God, the guy had wound himself up into a tangled mess. And here I’d thought Owen Cooper was a player—at least, that was the rumor. The boyish charm and bumbling apologies might have worked on other women, but they didn’t on me. Maybe the boyish charm, because Owen Cooper was one fine-looking man. The pixilated picture I had stapled in the Cooper Construction file didn’t do him justice. “Carl is fine. Or Carla, works. I suppose it’s about time someone called me by my real name.”
He looked at me, confusion clear on his face.
It made me laugh harder. “It’s a long story,” I said, instead of an explanation. “Call me whatever you see fit.”
He waited a moment before he spoke. “Carla. I’ll call you Carla.” He said my name slowly and carefully as if he were tasting it, or more like savoring it the way I did a hot cocoa with real whipped cream.
I flashed him a flirty smile before I remembered I was wearing massively oversized, oil-stained overalls. There was no doubt I looked a mess.
Suddenly I was embarrassed, but I hid it from my face. With a wave, I directed him into my office. “I’m guessing you’re here to talk about something that couldn’t wait until Monday morning, Mr. Cooper?”
“Owen. Call me Owen.”
After following me to my desk, he sat down when I offered him a chair. He took a piece of paper from the back pocket of his jeans, smoothing it out on the wooden surface before looking at me with pleading eyes.
Rescue Me: A Frazier Falls Novel Page 2