Chapter 8
CHAPTER EIGHT
NASH
“A little birdie told me you’re workin’ with the devil’s spawn,” Nat said in lieu of a greeting when I answered my phone. “What the hell’s that all about?”
Fucking Asher. I had just gotten off the phone with the douchebag who made up the third leg of our trio since elementary school. A douchebag who might’ve been my former best friend but was now dead to me. If I weren’t currently driving, I’d shoot off a text and tell him exactly what I thought of his big mouth and lack of ability to keep any-fucking-thing to himself.
“Well, hello, Natalie. So lovely to hear from you on this fine mornin’.”
She gagged, no doubt over the use of her full name. “Don’t try to lay on the charm with me, asshole. That hasn’t worked since junior year.”
Ah, yes. Junior year and the infamous failed kiss that nearly dissolved a friendship. I shuddered at the memory of it. We’d somehow gotten it into our heads that since we were such good friends, we’d naturally make a good couple. Asher had—wisely—watched from the sidelines with amusement at the entire unsuccessful attempt.
I blew out a deep sigh, knowing there was no use avoiding her questions because she wouldn’t let up. Nat was like a dog with a bone when she got her mind set on something.
“It’s nothing, just a couple clients askin’ about Rory doin’ some work for them. Ever since we did The Willow Tree together, people’ve been wantin’ her services when they get mine. They get her, she builds her portfolio, and I gain more clients to help me buy out my old man all that much quicker.”
Nat harrumphed. There was certainly no love lost between the oldest and youngest Haven girls. And while I couldn’t blame Nat for that stance given how Rory had treated her while they’d been growing up—and did, at least according to Nat, still treat her—I had to admit Rory wasn’t quite the bad guy Nat had always made her out to be. At least, not as far as I could see.
“She’s got some solid ideas—shit I’d never come up with. And she’s calmed on her devil ways, promise. You should stop globe-hoppin’ and come home to see for yourself.”
“Ummm…” Nat drew out the word so long, I knew I was in for a verbal beatdown. “I’m sorry , but I must’ve dialed the wrong goddamn number because there’s no way my best friend since for-fucking-ever would be sidin’ with Sister Satan instead of me.”
I coughed out a laugh. “Shit, Nat. I’m not sidin’ with anybody. I’m just sayin’—”
“That you’ve lost your damn mind? That you had a lobotomy? That you’ve been body snatched? That you?—”
“All right, all right, I get it.” But I wasn’t going to agree with her. I couldn’t quite force myself to speak about Rory like that. When the hell had that happened? I’d been there through all of Rory’s holier-than-thou, older sister bullshit. The bossing and the tattling and the smug grins whenever Nat, Asher, and I had gotten into deep shit with Mayor Haven for whatever crazy idea we’d concocted that particular week.
But Nat hadn’t been home for more than two days at a stretch in a long time—seven years, to be exact. Since the afternoon of high school graduation. The one I’d been in the audience of instead of the procession for because of some misplaced notion that dropping out with mere months left would get my old man’s attention.
“I’m not sure you do,” she said. “We are talkin’ about the same person who?—”
“Hey, Nat, when you comin’ home again?”
That shut her up, just like I knew it would. Nat was allergic to Havenbrook, had flown the coop the moment she’d been able to. And while Asher hadn’t gone quite as far as the corners of the earth like Nat, he, too, was off. Living his best life in Tennessee, which left only me holding down the fort in Havenbrook. I tried really damn hard not to envy my best friends for following their dreams. No reason I should, especially when I was following my own.
Since the moment I’d held my first hammer, I’d wanted to work with my hands, build things that would withstand the test of time…things that would be standing long after I was gone. Whether that was buildings or houses or custom-made furniture, I didn’t care. It was how I’d leave my mark on the world.
And now that future was being threatened. That meant I would grasp on to everything that set me apart from the competition, even if that was going against my better judgment and working with the woman who’d single-handedly starred in all of my wet dreams.
“Well played,” Nat said instead of answering my question.
“Hey, I gotta run.” I pulled to a stop in front of Rory’s house, shifting my truck into park. “Much as I’d love to listen to you yell at me some more.”
“Yeah, I’ll bet. Be careful of her pitchfork. I hear it’s sharp.” Nat hung up without another word.
With a snort, I pocketed my phone, pulled my tool belt off the passenger’s seat, and slipped out of my truck. I buckled the belt into place as I strolled up the front path and climbed the first step.
“It’s not fair !” a voice yelled from inside the house. One of Rory’s girls—I wasn’t sure which.
The front door was open, the mangled screen door the only thing giving the illusion of privacy.
“I’m sorry, Ava, but you’ve got camp today. Same as every other weekday this summer. You’re the one who wanted to go to this, remember? Begged and pleaded with me to let you. And now you’re actin’ like I’m ruinin’ your life by makin’ you go.”
“You are ! You’re just doin’ this ’cause it’s Kelsey’s house I wanna go to. Miss Sarah Beth already said I could come over! If it was anyone else, you’d let me.”
I hadn’t been around a whole lot of tweens—or kids in general. None of my friends had any. Hell, none of my friends were even in semi-serious relationships, my two closest globe-trotting and dream-seeking. I didn’t know the protocol for walking in on a screaming match between a parent and child, so I decided not to.
Instead, I hung out on the porch, crouching down and making note of the boards that would need to be replaced to make this sturdy again, all the while pretending I couldn’t hear a thing.
“Ava Caroline, that’s enough of your smart mouth,” Rory snapped, her relatively calm demeanor finally cracking. “You know better than to back-talk me, isn’t that right?”
The “Yes, ma’am,” that came in response sounded like it had been pried straight from the little girl’s voice box.
“Good. Now, Mimi’ll be here in a minute to pick y’all up. Go grab your things and tell your sister to come out.”
Ava grumbled something as she stomped off, the sound of her feet pounding on the floors easily carrying through the screen door.
“What was that?” Rory called.
“ Yes, ma’am .” Ava said the two words with as much disdain as one would say you bitch .
Was it safe now? I had no idea. I wasn’t sure if this was like a nuclear blast, when the aftermath was just as bad as the detonation itself. Fortunately, tires crunched out front just in time to save me from having to figure out my next move.
Caroline Haven, Rory’s momma, pulled her pristine car to a stop and then stepped out, looking for all the world like she was walking out of the pages of a magazine and not onto the dirt road in front of a ramshackle house. She wore pure white—something I didn’t think was entirely smart considering all the dirt surrounding her—but I’d be damned if she didn’t stay clean as a whistle. Her dark, gray-streaked hair was pulled back in some sort of a twist, and the smile she shot me was much warmer than her demeanor would suggest.
“Well, Nash King. If this isn’t a pleasant surprise.” She climbed the steps and greeted me with a hug and a kiss on the cheek. “What’re you doin’ here?”
I returned her hug with a smile. She’d been the closest thing I’d ever had to a momma—sad as that truth was—and I’d soaked up every bit of her attention I could get when Nat and I had been kids. “Hey, Miss Caroline. I’m just?—”
“Momma? Who’re you—” Rory popped her head out the front door, eyes widening when she saw me. “Oh. Nash. I didn’t realize you were here already.” She scrutinized me, no doubt wondering how much—if any—of the fight I’d heard.
“Just got here,” I said. “Takin’ stock of how many pieces I’ll need to replace to make sure this porch doesn’t threaten to collapse when you walk on it.”
“You’re helpin’ Rory?” Caroline asked, a genuine smile curving her mouth. “That’s just wonderful! I was worried about her doin’ it all on her own, you know.”
Rory stepped out onto the porch and crossed her arms. Through a strained smile, she said, “I’d have no problem doin’ it on my own, Momma.”
“Well, of course not, but now you won’t have to. Isn’t that lovely?”
Before Rory could respond, her youngest, Ella, dashed out from the house, her dark hair flying out behind her through the hole in her baseball cap. “Mimi! Come on, come on, let’s go! They said we’d be catchin’ frogs today, and I don’t wanna miss any of it!”
Caroline laughed, her attention on her youngest granddaughter. “Well, all right, then. We better get goin’. Where’s your sister?”
“Throwin’ a fit in her bedroom.” Ella shrugged, as if she couldn’t be bothered with her older sister’s tantrums.
Caroline looked at Rory, eyebrow raised in question. “Is that right?”
Rory slid her eyes to me before returning them to her momma. “Ten goin’ on sixteen, that one. She’s upset because I told her she couldn’t go to Kelsey’s today instead of camp.”
Caroline hummed, her gaze studying Rory, something passing between them I couldn’t hope to understand. “I see. Well, let’s find out if she gives Mimi any sass.” She stepped through the front door and called out for Ava.
“Gimme a hug, baby,” Rory said to Ella. She wrapped her daughter in a tight squeeze, then pressed a kiss on her cheek—which Ella immediately wiped off with the back of her hand. “You sure you wanna wear that hat today? I could French-braid your hair instead?”
“No thanks,” Ella said. “The hat’ll keep all the frog slime outta my hair. Bye, Momma! Bye, Nash!” With a quick wave in my direction, she dashed down the front steps and into the back seat of Caroline’s car, practically vibrating with excitement.
Ava, on the other hand, nearly slunk out of the house, her grandmother’s hands on her shoulders seeming to be the only thing pushing her forward.
“Give your momma a hug and let’s go,” Caroline said. “We don’t wanna be late.”
After a tense goodbye between Rory and Ava, Caroline waved out the car window as she turned around and drove down the dirt path.
Rory stood against the railing, staring off at the dust just settling back on the road. All the while, I stared at her. The morning sun glinted off her hair, which she had piled on top of her head in some kind of knot again. The rays turned the dark-brown strands into burnished gold. She wore sneakers, a tank top, and a pair of way-too-small-for-my-sanity shorts, showcasing the thick thighs and toned calves of her petite legs.
This was quite possibly the dumbest idea I’d ever had. Entering into a partnership with the woman who’d been a near constant in my fantasies for the past, oh, ten years? Nothing could possibly go wrong there.
Too bad I didn’t have much of a choice.
If I wanted to keep King Construction in the family, I needed to do something. And that meant thinking outside the box in order to make it the premier building company in the nearby area—hell, from here to Jackson. I didn’t just want to dominate Havenbrook, but I wanted to give Bozeman Builders a run for their money. And in my gut, I knew pairing my builds and remodels with Rory’s designs would do exactly that.
Thankfully, I knew better than to shit where I ate. I just had to keep reminding myself of it.
“Rough mornin’?” I finally asked.
She huffed out a not-quite laugh but didn’t answer like I thought she would. Didn’t tell me off for eavesdropping—never mind that it hadn’t been my intention.
As much as Ball-busting Rory grated on my last nerve, I found that I…missed all that sass. I didn’t want Docile Rory. That wasn’t her, and something tugged in my gut when I took in her forlorn expression.
So I said exactly what I needed to to rile her up. “You’re certainly dressed the part, but that’s about it. You want me to bring you a glass of sweet tea so you can continue starin’ off in the distance while I get some actual work done? We’ve got a list of clients chompin’ at the bit for us to start, so at least one of us needs to get to it.”
She shot me a glare, her pink lips pursing. Shit, maybe poking her hadn’t been a good idea, after all. Fiery Rory got my dick hard, no question about it.
“There’ll be no sweet tea, so I hope you weren’t expectin’ any.” She spun around and stormed into the house.
I caught the screen door just before it slammed closed behind her. “Wouldn’t dream of it, princess.”
“And I won’t be answering the door in heels and pearls because I’m findin’ I don’t feel particularly hostessy with you.”
I followed her straight into the kitchen and waited until she glanced back at me before I allowed my eyes to sweep over every inch of her body. From her sun-kissed shoulders only broken up by the thin straps of her tank top, to the downright indecent dip of her waist, to her shapely legs I wanted wrapped around my head while I buried my tongue inside her.
Yeah, this was definitely the dumbest fucking idea I’d ever had.
When I finally lifted my gaze to meet hers, her cheeks had gone pink, and her lips parted with each exhale.
“I don’t mind a bit,” I said, my voice thick with want I was getting damn tired of hiding. “Casual looks good on you, princess.”