Backup Hearts (Pine Point Fixer-Uppers #4)

1. Chapter 1

Chapter one

Robinson

The area they were driving to was certainly beautiful. While the rest of the crew chatted, Robinson stared out the windows of the SUV at the trees sliding past. They hadn’t passed another car in a solid five minutes, even though they were within spitting distance of a huge college. Chapel Hill wasn’t the biggest city in North Carolina, but it was a college town, and close enough to other major cities that it should have been much more active.

Big city amenities with all the small town charm and peace. Nice place . They’d nabbed a hotel right by the college, but for the first time since they started filming for the show, they were having their meeting with the client at his house.

The road wound through a wooded area, festooned with houses, but they were mostly insulated from the road. Judging by the pictures they’d gotten of their client’s place, it would be much the same when they got there. Probably a great place to live. The trees were different, mostly oaks and maples instead of pine and fir, but it had the same feeling of serenity Robinson associated with Pine Point. With home.

The SUV in front of them slowed and the blinker turned on, so Robinson sat up a little higher and took a few calming breaths. At some point, he figured, he’d be used to getting on camera and walking into people’s houses again. But that hadn’t happened yet. Also, I was high as balls when I was doing it on the VideoHead channel. That’s different.

They took a slight turn, and the driveway leading to the little gray house was right at the peak of that turn. Not as much tree cover as some of the other houses, but it was also back from the road quite a bit more. It wasn’t as if they had to worry about traffic noise, apparently, so it was probably quiet enough.

When they stopped, Aras next to him opened the door and stepped out. He actually smiled as he looked up around him. “Nice place.”

He’d been smiling ever since he got back from his trip down to Atlanta to spend time with Dane. Robinson was holding his breath, waiting in case anything went wrong between them. So far, though, they seemed good. Aras wasn’t thrilled to be separated by quite so much distance from Dane, but no signs they were about to have a messy split. Or the more traditional long-distance fizzle out.

And until they did, it was great to see Aras actually happy .

“Maybe I’ll finally get time off on this job.” Ozzy, their landscaper, came around the front of the SUV, with Evander, the interior designer, behind. Ozzy had let his chin get a little scruffy, and his hair was a mess, which only stood out so much because, as per usual, Evander was impeccable.

“I will find work for you.” Ev was dressed in a black satin button-up and cream-colored chinos, and of course several buttons were open to show off his chest.

“Taskmaster.” Ozzy kissed him on the forehead, then sighed. “What exactly do you expect me to do to make this place look better? Other than a couple hours of trimming, we’re in good shape.”

“I’m sure the client has some ideas.” Bunny climbed out of the front seat and leaned on the hood to observe them. She’d tied her curls back into a single tail, and was dressed in white denim overalls and a white T-shirt. The only pop of color on her was tangerine lipstick, which burned brightly against her dark skin. “Three kids and an overwhelmed dad, I’m sure he can think of something he’d like out here.”

“And if not, it entertains me to see you try and use power tools.” Jake, their carpenter, came up next to Bunny. He was every bit the vision of a blond hunk, and his shirt and jeans were tight enough to make sure everyone knew it. “Give me long enough, I might even be able to teach you how to use a circular saw properly.”

Ozzy flipped him off. Then Mason walked over, and he swiftly pulled his hand down. The final member of their crew had ridden in the front SUV to talk with the production crew. Mason was usually all smiles. Not then, which set Robinson’s spine stiff. Mason was still dressed like himself, with a salmon-pink polo shirt and acid-washed jeans, and his hair was the perfect bronze sweep on top of his head. But he approached with his hands clasped in front of his waist and a tight frown over his lips.

Mason sighed when he got up there. “Don’t want to put a damper on things, but I’ve been… advised to remind you all to keep the bickering to a minimum. To the extent possible.” Mason’s shoulders slumped. “I don’t know what this is going to look like, but the client doesn’t need us making anything worse or more stressful or whatever.

“Yeah.” Ozzy stuffed his hands into his pockets. “We all read the same brief.”

Which made production’s concerns perfectly clear, and perfectly reasonable. A year ago, their client, Chuck, had lost his husband and suddenly become a single father to three teenage boys. The two of them had been together for twenty years. High school sweethearts from a time when gay high school sweethearts were lucky to avoid getting the crap beaten out of them, let alone building a stable, functional family together.

“Last thing he’s going to want is for us to walk on eggshells around him.” Aras’s smile had faded, but not all the way back to a full sneer. More…miffed. “But I promise not to call him or his kids jackasses. I reserve the right to call any of you jackasses, though.”

Finally, Mason smiled again. “I wouldn’t be able to stop you if I tried. I know from experience.” He scrubbed his hands over his face. “Eliza just wanted to make sure that we all are representing the network as best we can. Upsetting a widower isn’t exactly the best look. And we have…a bit of a history of theatrics.”

All eyes drifted to Ozzy and Evander. Ozzy stayed stoic, but Evander pressed his hand to his chest in mock horror. “Me? Theatrical? I resent such pointed criticism.”

“Doesn’t mean it’s wrong.” Ozzy patted the top of his head. “I’ll keep him on the leash.”

“Leave the leash.” Robinson couldn’t help himself. Low-hanging fruit it may have been, but it could still be delicious. “Might freak out the kids if you start walking him around like a dog.”

Mason rolled his eyes. “All right. I’ve done my due diligence. If we’re ready to go in?”

They had their mics on, and hair and makeup would stop them in their tracks if they looked too janky, though Robinson was pretty sure all of them were doing fine in that regard. No one protested, so they walked to the front door. Eliza, the show’s producer, was on the porch, talking to Vince, the director of photography. When everyone passed by, she smiled and waved everyone on through the front door. “Give me five. Client is wrangling teenage drama upstairs, so we have a little time.” She shifted her gaze to Mason. “We’re good.”

Ozzy answered instead. “No one’s going to scream at him. Chill.”

Eliza nodded sharply. “Can’t blame me for worrying. Now scoot.”