Chapter 33 Caleb
Caleb
I shut my laptop and leaned back in my office chair, my neck and back creaking as I stretched, trying to recover from long hours of schmoozing clients and catching up on the mountain of paperwork Ryder had passed off to me.
I didn’t mind. Working with his hands was his escape; working with my brain was mine.
I’d gotten all the physical escape I’d needed out of hockey.
I’d replaced it with weekly basketball, tennis, and football with the guys, depending on my pain level.
But these days I needed more than that in my life, and Ryder had provided it.
Did he piss me off? On the daily. But in this, I wouldn’t fail him.
But maybe I’d been pushing myself too hard because I yawned so wide, I nearly split my head open. Between the long work hours, then spending the nights with Emma, eating, talking, laughing, taking each other apart, then putting us back together again, I was dead on my feet.
After what had to be my twentieth jaw-splitting yawn, I set my head down on my desk, just to rest my eyes for a second…
Then jerked awake to a face an inch from mine.
Ryder. “Remember that renovation job we did for the Royal Co—shit, Caleb, stop screaming—the ones who make luxury toys? They sent us three high-grade squirt guns. We need to break them in.”
“I wasn’t screaming,” I grumbled, rubbing my eyes. “And who’s ‘we’?”
Tucker’s face appeared next to Ryder’s. “You’re both going down.”
“For fuck’s sake.” I rose and shoved my fingers through my hair. “No one ever knocks.”
“We knocked,” Tucker said. “You didn’t budge. What’s the matter with you? You’re clearly not sleeping at night. You having nightmares again?”
I hadn’t had nightmares since I’d been a kid. “No.”
Ryder had been studying me. “My guess is he’s making up for lost time.”
Tucker stared at me, his expression going from confused to knowing to annoyed. “Great. Everyone’s getting laid except for me.”
Ryder turned to him. “Hazel told me she saw you leaving the bar the other night with a woman.”
Tucker stilled. “What?”
“Hazel said—”
“I heard you! When did Hazel see me at the bar?”
Ryder shrugged. “Dunno. A week ago, maybe? Who was the woman?”
“Lena,” Tucker said. “She works at the city office. She’d had one too many. I was just giving her a ride.” He paused. “Hazel thought we were gonna…?”
“Maybe she wouldn’t think it if you spoke with her once in a while,” I said. “With words.”
Ryder snorted. “Rich coming from you.”
I picked up one of the three monstrous squirt guns Ryder had unceremoniously dumped on my desk. He’d already filled them. Nice. I hoisted one, aiming it at my oldest brother, ready to unleash a torrent of watery retribution for the rude awakening.
“Do it, and I’ll make you regret it,” he warned me cheerfully.
I blasted him. Right in the face. Then I went down snickering as he leaped over my desk and tackled me to the floor.
We tussled and grappled until we were both nailed in the face with water. Gasping, we sat up, swiped at our eyes, and stared at Tucker double-fisting two squirt guns, grinning wildly.
“Get him,” Ryder said to me.
We tackled him in unison. The three of us were rolling around, soaked, swearing, and laughing more than fighting, when a voice boomed: “Are you boneheads fuckin’ kidding me?”
Bill stood in the doorway, arms folded over his barrel chest, eyes narrowed. “You children or grown-ass men?”
We “children” glanced at one another, silently agreeing, then all aimed our squirt guns and nailed him in unison, drenching him from head to toe.
Ten minutes later, after getting our asses chewed out like we were feral teens once again, we stood in the staff kitchen, raiding the fridge.
Ryder was inhaling a chicken-salad sandwich when he looked at me. “I had this idea…”
“Thanks for the warning.”
Ryder lifted his hand and scratched the side of his face. With his middle finger. “It’s actually more of a question. You and Emma.”
I refused to react and dug into the fridge to see if there was anything I’d missed. “Didn’t hear a question.”
“You’re all in.”
Turning to face him, I crossed my arms. “Again, not a question.”
Tucker stirred. Probably wondering if the squirt guns were still loaded.
“You and Emma seem to be straddling the fence between long and short term,” Ryder clarified.
I stared at him.
He stared back.
Fine. “For me, it’s a long-term thing.” Weird, but suddenly my heart hammered against my ribs, the drumbeat echoing in my ears. I sank to a chair. “Holy shit,” I breathed. “I just said that out loud.”
Tucker patted me on the head.
“So,” Ryder said. “Back to my question.”
“I still haven’t heard a fucking question.”
Ryder smiled, like me being discombobulated to my very core was so fucking funny. “Colburn Restoration’s growing pretty fast. We need more employees.”
“No shit,” I said. “We still need at least one more office person, plus a bigger dedicated construction crew so we’re not relying on subs all the time.”
Ryder nodded. “I was thinking about also adding an in-house construction-design management department,” he said casually, finishing his sandwich. “With an in-house architect running a CDM division, we’d be a full-service restoration stop.”
I froze in the middle of biting into a turkey club. “You playing me?”
“Nope.”
I glanced at Tucker, who shrugged. He didn’t know shit about this either.
“Think of how much time and money we’d save,” Ryder said, “instead of subbing out like we do, paying out the nose for the services.”
I was stunned. “Let me get this straight: You didn’t want me to go out with Emma because we work together. But now you want to hire her to be here every day, where I also work?”
“Valid question,” Tucker said.
“I was wrong.”
I choked on a bite. “What?”
Ry scowled. “You heard me.”
I whipped my head to Tucker. “Did he just say he was wrong?”
Tucker grinned and pulled out his phone, bringing up his camera. “Maybe we should make him repeat it on video.”
“Fuck off,” Ryder said, shoving Tucker’s phone out of his face. “I’m serious.” He looked into my eyes. “I was wrong to hold your past against you. If you’d done that to me, I’d have knocked you on your ass.”
“You can try,” I said.
“I’m not trying to fight you, dumbass. I want to do the right thing here. For the business. For you. And for Emma, who’s really good at the job.”
“She’s amazing,” I agreed.
“And we both know what Henderson and Hall Architects are like. They already work her half to death without paying her what she’s worth. They’re going to burn her out.”
“If you offer her a job with that as your pitch,” I said, “she’ll kick your ass. She’s allergic to pity.”
Tucker smiled, presumably at the thought of Emma kicking Ryder’s ass. “I’d pay to see that,” he said wistfully.
Me too.
“It’s not pity,” Ryder said. “She’s incredibly talented. But I’m not the one who’s going to make the offer. You are. That is, if you’re good with it.”
“You’re asking me?”
“You said you wanted to work your way up to a full-fledged partner here.”
I stared at him. “I did. I do.”
Ryder nodded. “Then yeah, I’m asking you.”
I looked at Tucker. “What do you think?”
“I think falling in love is a terrible idea.”
“Noted,” I said dryly. “I’m asking about hiring Emma to work here.”
Tucker shrugged. “She’s smart, capable, scrappy, and doggedly determined—perfect qualities for the job, so yes to hiring her. As for falling in love? I vote no, again.” He hitched a thumb in Ryder’s direction. “One of you walking around with a stupid lovestruck look on your face is enough.”
“If this is a potential problem for you,” Ryder said to me, “we don’t go this route.”
Something warmed in my chest that I hadn’t realized needed warming. But Emma deserved a job as big as her talent, and this would give her that. “There’s no one who’ll work harder in our new department than Emma.”
Ryder nodded. “I asked HR to draw up an offer. I’ll leave it up to you to get it to her. Keep me updated.”
I watched him walk out, hair and clothes still wet from the squirt guns. “Did that just happen?”
“Yeah.” Tucker came up to my side, also watching Ryder go. “And I hope you know what you’re doing.”
“I absolutely do not.”
He clapped a hand on my shoulder. “Gonna be fun then.”