Chapter 1 Emma
Emma
Present day
Staring in wonder at the architectural beauty, I was sucked in by the early morning sun’s long shadows playing hide-and-seek across the weathered stone.
Knowing I couldn’t stall forever, I started to get out, stopping when my phone buzzed a call from RIDE OR DIE.
“Hey, can’t talk. I’m about to walk onto the jobsite—”
“I know.” Suzie, my longtime best friend, was a professional in worrying about her people. “Just wanted to make sure you’re okay.”
“Why wouldn’t I be?” I asked.
“Oh, gee, I don’t know, maybe because a few weeks ago, your apartment building burned down, and since you were in a sublease and didn’t have rental insurance, you lost everything. And then your asshole ex was—shock—an ass and wouldn’t let you stay with him—”
“What a fun recap, but I’ve really gotta go.”
“Fine, but starting a new job is stressful. So repeat after me: I’ve got this.”
“Suze.”
“Say it.”
I had no idea where her optimism came from. We’d both grown up in Santa Rosa, about forty-five minutes from here. My life hadn’t been easy, but hers had been far harder.
“Remember when we lived in that tiny hovel above that dive bar in college?” Suzie asked.
“Remember that massive spider who lived in our bathroom? You totally almost killed it before our screaming brought over the cute guy from across the hall. So don’t you let anyone tell you that you can’t. You’re an Ameri-CAN.”
“You’ve been reading The Art of Being Kind again, haven’t you.”
“Well, the first time didn’t take, so yeah.”
“I promise I’ve got this,” I said on an affectionate laugh. “But I really gotta go. Love you.”
“Love you more.”
I slid my phone away, and juggling a hot tea and a cross-body bag filled with my work essentials, I headed up the cracked stone pavers to the time-worn wraparound porch.
The surrounding acreage was dotted with gnarled oak trees, long bent to the wind’s whim, along with a big old barn and several other structures.
Just past the property line ran the lazy waters of the Russian River, and beyond that, the rocky California Coast.
Drawing a deep breath against the butterflies taking flight in my belly, I stepped past two fluted white columns to the front door, which was painted a deep, inviting shade of blue and looked like a portal to another time.
Before I could knock, a massive wasp with long, dangling legs and bad vision darted right for me. I gasped and ducked.
The wasp weaved and bobbed.
With a startled scream, I went into automatic wasp-dance mode, which was also spider mode. It involved a lot of hopping, spinning around, swearing, and slapping at my clothes.
When the wasp finally got the hint and left me alone, I surveilled the damage. I’d lost my tea, my bag, and my dignity. I picked up the first two, accepted the loss of the third, and furtively looked around to make sure no one had seen.
The coast was clear.
Pretending I didn’t now have a tea stain seeping across my chest, I quickened my steps.
House was definitely the wrong word for this place with its ten thousand square feet of homestead that had been infamous during the Prohibition era for bootlegging.
It was the biggest historical landmark in the small, quirky town of Star Falls, possibly the biggest in all of Sonoma County.
“What could possibly go wrong?” I whispered to the butterflies in my belly.
Keep your chin up.
My mom had always said that, but only because the Legend of Star Falls claimed that if you caught sight of the rare phenomenon of three falling stars arching together across the sky, then your soulmate would enter your life.
Had to have your chin up to watch for it, which we’d done anytime we’d come through Star Falls.
Personally, I wasn’t sure I believed in soulmates, but a warmth settled in my chest from thinking about my mom.
Pasting on a smile, I lifted a hand to knock, but before I could, the front door opened.
The guy who opened the door wore a suit so perfect it had to be illegal and a smile that managed to be both charming and suspiciously polite—like he knew he had the power to ruin your day and might be considering it. “Can I help you?”
I wasn’t great at polite smiles, so I abstained.
“I’m Emma Sumner, the architect from Henderson and Hall Architects.
” Darren Henderson, my boss’s boss, had inherited this beloved Star Falls historical landmark, which once upon a time had been the mayor’s mansion and was soon to be an exclusive corporate retreat.
As Henderson and Hall’s newest architect specializing in CDM—Construction Design Management—I was the liaison between the firm and Colburn Restorations, the high-end construction company Henderson had hired to handle the renovations.
At least I was for the next three months anyway, and at the reminder, my stress crept back in like a mischievous goblin lurking in the shadows. “I’m here to meet with Ryder Colburn.”
He frowned. “You’re not Ruth.”
“She’s on maternity leave.” I felt thrown that he hadn’t been told. “I’m her temporary replacement, here to review some requested change orders.”
He offered a hand. “Ryder Colburn.” He turned as someone appeared at his back.
A slightly younger version of Ryder, with the same strong jaw and wind-tousled dark hair, though he was a few inches taller and broader.
Unlike Ryder, this guy wore cargos and a Colburn Restorations T-shirt that didn’t cover the interesting tats on his arms. His aviator glasses slipped a little on his nose because his face was practically buried in a set of blueprints. “Ry, setbacks are wrong—”
I had no idea what else he said because that voice…I knew that deep, husky voice. How did I know that voice?
Then he looked up, and even as the lenses on his glasses darkened to adjust for the sun, I caught sight of vibrant hazel eyes behind the glasses and froze in shock and disbelief.
He did not freeze, though I caught the quick flash of surprise before he schooled his features into a neutral calm and said nothing. Like I was nothing and nobody.
Which, to him, I absolutely was.
Colburn… How didn’t I put it together and see this coming?
“Caleb,” Ryder said. “This is Emma—”
“Exacting Emma,” Caleb Colburn said with zero inflection.
Ryder’s brows rose at the nickname.
An antacid would be good about now. In college, Caleb had taken great pleasure in using a nickname when speaking to me, always a different adjective before my name, always starting with an E to match. My blood pressure had risen then, and it did so now.
“And Emma Sumner,” Ryder said to me, “this is—”
“Colburn.” I last named him because, no, this couldn’t be happening.
And how dare he look as sexy as ever, a fact that sent odious little sparks skating through my belly.
Where was a hole to fall into when I needed one, maybe even a new time continuum so I could avoid this reunion I’d never seen coming?
“Caleb’s the project manager,” Ryder said. “And since there’s no problem he can’t solve, we call him The Fixer. You two know each other?”
I shook my head and said, “Nope.”
At the same time, Caleb said, “Yes.”
“Well, that clears that up.” Ryder turned to his brother, something in his gaze I couldn’t begin to understand since my brain had gone offline at the first sight of Caleb. The two men exchanged a look as Ryder’s phone rang. Gesturing to it, he walked away to take the call.
Caleb leaned his big self against the doorway, casual as you please. “Never expected to see you again,” he said.
I could only stare at the one man on the planet who could throw me off course, the man who, once upon a time, had destroyed my world without a thought. “Same. Is it Mr. Fixer then? Or do you still go by Cheater?”
He cocked his head. “You’re still mad my senior project beat yours. Interesting.”
No, that was most definitely not it, and he knew it, knew he’d been the golden boy who got everything he wanted in spite of the work other people put in.
I’d hoped to never see him again. So then why did his deep, rich voice bring back all the memories: him, the country’s favorite college hockey player, and me, a nobody.
We’d been academic rivals and nemeses. No matter how hard I worked, he was always one step ahead of me in our architectural program.
No surprise since he had tutors and overseers at his disposal.
He never had to sweat a single thing. Teachers loved him, favored him, and there was no fighting against that, or the scholarship and summer internship in Europe that he stole from beneath my nose.
And it wasn’t just teachers. He was surrounded by fellow students, most of them women, all wanting time with him—which he happily gave in exchange for lab and study assistance. He’d rarely had to do his own work, and it had driven me crazy.
Caleb took in my black trousers, black flats, unbuttoned blazer, and…the tea-stained white shirt beneath.
“Wasp incident,” I said, nose high enough that I risked a nosebleed.
He rubbed a hand over his stubbled jaw, and I refused to acknowledge the little quiver that went through me at the rasping sound. “Didn’t see this coming,” he finally said, then shrugged those broad shoulders. “But Ruth was a hard-ass, so this probably works in my favor.”
Of course that’s how he’d see it. “Maybe I’m harder to please than Ruth.”
He finally smiled, and damn, it was the hockey-superstar smile. I refused to melt even a tiny little bit, but I did have to lock my knees, which I’d admit only upon threat of death.
“You don’t think I can be a hard-ass?”
Those eyes of his, with that unique swirl of green and gold, danced. “I probably shouldn’t answer that for the sake of our new relationship.”
“We don’t have a relationship.”
His smile faded. “We do now. This project is everything to me. So we both need to leave all the personal shit at the door.”
Both? What did that mean? “I’ve never done anything to you.”