Chapter 11 #2
We stared at each other for a beat. I could get lost in those hazel eyes, the way the golds mingled with the greens and browns.
I had no idea what he was thinking, but I was thinking yum .
Needing a distraction before I made a fool of myself, I looked around, settling on a picture on the back wall of a very old, beat- up work truck parked in front of a building even older than the vehicle.
Ryder followed my line of sight. “When Auggie and I started this company, we had nothing more than that ancient Chevy full of second-hand tools and our hands. Our first job was the Devereux building on the commercial row of downtown.”
“Really? I love that building. I don’t remember much about what it looked like before, but now I marvel at it every time I pass by.”
He came up to my side, hands in his pockets. “The property belonged to my grandfather,” he said, gaze on the pic. “When he died, my siblings and I inherited it. It was basically falling off its axis.”
“It had flooded, right?”
“Yeah. It was a mess when we got it. Not worth much, but I knew there was potential.” His smile was rueful. “We borrowed on the equity up to the eyeballs. Then I renovated, hoping to give us a shot at selling high so we could each have a fresh start.”
“You renovated by yourself ?”
“At first, yes. I couldn’t afford subcontractors or employees back then. Hell, at the time, I could barely afford food. Auggie came on board during that project to manage the paperwork and permits. And Colburn Restorations was born.”
I could picture it—a younger Ryder, driven to bring a beloved building back to its former glory, working his ass off to make something of himself while he was at it.
“It couldn’t have been easy.”
“No,” he said on a rough laugh. “Nothing about that job was easy. I lived there, working on it day and night, practically having to beg, borrow, and steal for materials. My siblings helped out as they could, but eventually, I hired Bill too. We stripped it down to the studs, put in new electrical and plumbing, new everything. Auggie’s sister was a budding architect and had a roommate who was into interior design.
The two of them were broke too, and pretty much worked for pizza and beer until I was able to sell and then pay them. Pay all of us.”
“Not just a pretty face,” I teased.
He snorted, then looked at me for a long, charged beat, in a way few others ever had. As if I were entirely unbreakable, a force in my own right, like maybe he found that extremely attractive.
Not quite knowing what to do with all that sexy, male focus on me, the undiluted attention, I squirmed a little bit. His eyes lit with amusement, but he didn’t actually smile. Stayed serious.
“I want to show you something,” he finally said.
“Ha. For that, I’d need at least three dates, and one of them would have to include dessert—but it’s all a moot point since I’m not dating.”
The corner of his mouth twitched. “All good to know, but not what I meant.”
He took me to his office, gesturing me in ahead of him, and damn, the man smelled so good I almost turned into him and pressed my entire face into the crook of his neck.
One wall of his office was entirely windows that showed off a stunning view of the Russian River, a ribbon of silver winding through the heart of the countryside, lush meadows either side of the riverbank.
The office itself had been done in the same theme as the rest of the building, wood and metal accents, masculine while also warm and welcoming.
Nothing on his desk except a closed laptop, two sets of rolled up blueprints, and…
two sippy cups, the kind toddlers use, along with two tiny tool belts, complete with little tools in the compartments.
I smiled. “You’ve had some company.”
“It was my morning with them before preschool,” he said. “They love it here.”
What’s not to love?
Ryder took a photo album off the shelf and set it on the desk in front of me.
I smiled. “Okay, Grandpa.”
“Just open it, smart-ass.”
I began flipping through the incredible story of the Devereux Building’s transformation and found myself transfixed.
“It was built in the late 1800s by a prominent winemaker,” he said. “So the bones were amazing. It just needed some love.”
It was fun to see the progress in pictures. The stone structure had been meticulously restored, blending its classic Victorian character with contemporary elegance, complete with large picture windows, fieldstone facade, and a massive wraparound porch adorned with intricate latticework.
“Auggie was a photographer at heart.” Ryder stared at the photos, memories in his eyes. “He took these to record the progress. I’ve got it all saved on the cloud, but this book’s my favorite thing of his that I have.”
I let out a slow breath, understanding. Deeply. Flipping through the pages, I took in the incredible before and after shots. “This is amazing.” He was amazing. “What did you do next?” I asked.
He gave a slow shake of his head. “Your turn.”
“Oh, well, um…” Honestly, I never knew how to talk about myself.
I didn’t have a colorful story like he did.
No aha moment defining my chosen path in life.
I’d grown up, worked to support my family, and slept.
The lack of a personal life felt…embarrassing.
I looked around for another distraction but fa iled to find one.
So I pulled out my phone and gestured to it, like oh look at that, I’m getting a call … I even went so far as to put the phone to my ear. “Hello? Yes, absolutely,” I said to no one. “I’ll be right there—” I broke off as…
My phone rang. For real.
Stifling a grimace, I glanced at Ryder, expecting annoyance or even anger.
He was grinning.
As my phone kept ringing…
“You need to get that?” he asked, leaning back against his desk lazily, like he had all the time in the world to watch me embarrass myself.
Since it was my brother calling, I answered with, “The person who owns this phone has reached her people quota for the day, please hang up and try again tomorrow.”
“Not funny,” Wyatt said. “I need you to pick me up after school, my bike’s got a flat.”
I sighed. “I’ll be there.” I disconnected and eyed a still grinning Ryder. “This is your fault.”
“Do tell.”
“You’re standing all close to me, smelling so good I can’t think. You need to back up.”
Looking quite pleased with himself, he lifted his hands in surrender and backed up. “Anything else?”
“Stop smiling.”
“That might prove difficult.”
It really should be illegal how sexy he was. “I’m going now.”
He didn’t stop smiling.
With a roll of my eyes, I managed to walk out of there calmly, but the minute I crossed his doorstep into the hallway, I broke into a walk/run, fleeing like the hounds of hell were on my heels.
Or the biggest, hottest distraction I’d ever met.