Chapter 1 Emma #2
He leaned casually against the doorway, hands in his pockets like he didn’t have a care in the world. “Rewriting history, Emma Sumner?” His voice rumbled in the back of his throat, a velvety rumble that curved around my spine.
Just like that, all those long-ago feelings of inadequacy, and impostor syndrome, and a whole bunch of other things churned in my gut as I tossed up my hands. “Why can’t you be like all the other men on this planet and either ignore or run from conflict?”
He snorted. “Trust me, that’s my usual MO.”
“Great, go with your instincts.” I drew a breath. “Look, let’s just get this over with, okay? We need to go over those change orders.”
“Yes, but not with that,” he said of my laptop. “Flipping back and forth on a screen gives me a migraine.” He gestured to the site plans tucked under his arm and walked away.
“Oh sure, I’ll just follow you then,” I muttered, annoyed by his easy, confident gait. “What’s wrong with right here?” I asked, stopping in the middle of the massive open living room, which was clearly being used as the restoration staging area, with more tools and equipment than I could name.
“Still always on a fast break, rushing the puck.” He glanced over his shoulder at me, his eyes shining with Trouble—with a capital T. “You really should see the whole place firsthand, especially if you’re going to give me shit on the change orders.”
Two minutes in, and he had me on the defensive already. “I’m only going to argue the changes that affect structure or your historical-landmark status.”
He made one of those very masculine sounds that could mean just about anything sarcastic.
“What?” I demanded.
“Nothing.”
“It’s something,” I said.
“Fine. Just admit you’re going to bust my balls every chance you get because you always have to win.”
I choked on a mirthless laugh. “No, that’s you.”
“Keep telling yourself that,” he said, and I realized he was limping slightly as he moved across the floor, clearly favoring his right leg.
“You hurt?” I asked.
“Nope.”
“All right, so maybe I do always have to win,” I admitted, “but at least I know my limitations.”
He had the nerve to laugh, and I rolled my eyes at his broad back as he opened the sliding glass door.
Out back lay an abandoned pasture, a glorious old red barn that had seen better days, and several smaller wooden structures.
A single-track trail ran through the property, sloped down to the river, winding around aged oak trees and empty pens, all of it an overgrown sea of wild grass surrounded by green rolling hills.
We were on the far outskirts of Star Falls out here, nestled between wineries and ranches.
I concentrated on not tripping on the rough terrain as Caleb expertly maneuvered the tight trail, his posture relaxed, his broad shoulders angling away from branches whenever he passed too close.
I hated how he made it seem so easy—made everything seem so easy—and that old bubble of resentment got stuck in my throat.
At the river’s edge, Caleb pointed to a downed tree, which had been chopped into four rounds and arranged in a circle.
“Our outside office slash lunch area slash secret talk space.”
“Secret talk space?”
“Yep.” He peered at me from behind those sexy glasses that seemed to make the gold flecks in his eyes glow. “Any secrets you wanna get off your chest?”
“Not a single one.”
He actually let loose a real smile. “Liar.”
I shrugged. Sharing secrets was not my thing. I liked them locked up deep inside my chest, thank you very much.
“You live in Star Falls now?” he asked.
Speaking of secrets… I tried not to tense up.
Tried to ignore the way my heart beat faster with embarrassment and shame.
“Yeah, near downtown.” And then I started walking, leading the way this time, not stopping until we stood in front of a gloriously time-worn, faded-red barn.
Our first problematic change order. “In the progress reports, it says you’re tackling the roof first—for obvious safety reasons,” I said.
“And then the foundation, framing, windows, siding, and flooring, in that order.”
He crossed his arms. “Why do I hear a but on the end of that sentence?”
“But…the plans call for electrical before the flooring.”
Surprise flared in his eyes, like he might be impressed, which irritated me more than flattered.
“Usually, yes,” he said. “But the owner’s toying with making the barn a different sort of retreat experience, an off-the-grid one—no electricity or running water, etc.
He asked us to hold off until he makes up his mind. ”
“If he goes that route, you’ll need to get the permits adjusted.”
He dipped his head in agreement.
“And schedule an inspection.”
He grimaced, which I got. No one enjoyed inspections, but they were a necessary evil to get a final permit.
“A problem for another day,” he said.
I wondered what that was like, to be able to shove your day-to-day worries aside.
Back inside, we walked the manor. Even with its pants down, so to speak, the place was incredible: Simple elegance and natural lighting, high, slanted ceilings, and large windows all gave off a warm, cozy vibe that thrilled my inner architecture geek.
I’d always had a thing for old manors just like this.
On the third floor, I nodded to the attic access at the end of a long hallway. “What’s up there?”
Instead of answering, he steadied a ladder at the base of the access door, which creaked loudly as he muscled it open. I climbed in ahead of him, entering the attic, only to stop short in shocked delight. “It’s furnished.”
Caleb nodded when he climbed in behind me, sliding his big self through the small access door with athletic grace, nudging me over with a hand to my lower back to make enough space.
“Henderson’s great-grandmother lived up here.
” He looked around. “His directive was to leave it as is. So we have, other than one of the guys occasionally crawling up here to nap. Yesterday, Miguel came to work after being up all night with his newborn niece, so we sent him up here to grab some Z’s before he cut off a finger. ”
Turning in a slow circle, I took in the antique furnishings: a four-poster bed devoid of bedding, a tall ornate armoire, a full-length bronze-framed mirror, and a gorgeous wood bench at the end of the bed.
Dust motes floated through the air, visible in the muted light slanting in from two high windows.
In spite of the neglect, there was a warmth here, a sense that this had been a room where a happy person had lived. “It’s homey.”
“Feels like good memories were made here,” he agreed, and I stared at him, unable to hide my surprise at the genuine insight.
“What, you think you’re the only one here who loves this old shit?”
I didn’t know what I’d thought or expected, but it hadn’t been him, that’s for sure. “There’s one more place I really want to see before we get to it,” I said.
He let out a genuine grin that unexpectedly disarmed me. “You want to see what we discovered in demo.”
I found myself smiling helplessly back because he understood; I could feel it: He really did love this stuff as much as I did. “Yes.”
We headed down the stairs, and if I hadn’t been watching so closely—so I didn’t trip and absolutely not because he had a great ass—I’d have missed the way he favored his leg. “Should you be doing physical labor with…?” I gestured to his leg.
“I’m good.”
Of course he was. That leg could be literally falling off his body, and he’d have said the same thing.
We moved through the gutted kitchen to the laundry room, where the basement access had been discovered. No one had known about it, not even Henderson himself, until Colburn Restorations had discovered the secret opening under the old water heater of all places.
Caleb squatted low to open the heavy door. Absently rubbing his left thigh, he gestured me in. “Ladies first.”
I stared at the steps that vanished into inky nothingness. “Is this a test?”
“It’s my good manners.”
I rolled my eyes, pulled a small penlight from the bag still slung over my shoulder, and aimed it into the opening.
The penlight barely touched the first few steps, and I gulped.
But hell if I’d give unfairly gorgeous Caleb Colburn the satisfaction of thinking I couldn’t handle this.
So I straightened my shoulders, sucked in a breath, and took the first step.
Big-girl panties on. All systems go.