Chapter 2
CHAPTER TWO
HEATH
“Any chance you could get me the Winthrop bid by tomorrow?” Dad asked.
“Ha.” I chuckled. “No.”
He frowned. “Why not?”
“Because it’s third on my list.” I tapped my pen on the notepad in front of me. “You told me that the Grant and Freeman bids were priority.”
“Damn,” he muttered. “We have too many priorities.”
“You’re not joking.”
“Hopefully if Stella gets up to speed quickly, we can shift some of these projects from your plate to hers.”
“That would be great.” At this point, I couldn’t keep up with the estimates let alone tracking every build, because I was being pulled in seven different directions.
Even in December, a month when business should have been slower than average, our crews were struggling to keep up with demand. It was too cold to pour foundations for new builds, but we had enough homes in progress that every construction team was assigned to a jobsite. Most were putting in overtime on framing or flooring or one of many other tasks that didn’t start with the letter f but my brain was so fried I’d forgotten them at the moment.
“I’m late for dinner and your mom’s going to be mad. I’d better head home.” Dad stood from his chair across from my desk. “See you tomorrow.”
“Yep. Bye, Dad.”
He waved and walked out, swinging by his corner office to grab his laptop and coat before the lights flickered off.
“Bye, Dad,” Tobias said from his office. Five minutes later, after the shuffle of paperwork and closing of desk drawers, he hollered down the hallway, “I’m leaving too.”
“See ya,” I called back.
“Want me to lock up?”
“I’ll do it.”
“Don’t stay too late.” His footsteps echoed on the hickory floors as he made his way through the lobby and out the front door.
If there was any chance of me taking off the week between Christmas and New Year’s, I’d definitely be staying late.
The quiet settled in the building, and I sank deeper into my chair, facing the mountain of work on my desk. It was daunting. Good thing I didn’t mind a challenge.
Dad wanted the Winthrop job estimated so I reached for the Winthrop file. I fished out the notes I’d made during our last meeting and found the rough sketch that Tobias had put together after his initial consult.
He was our only architect at the moment. His predecessor had retired this spring and Tobias had stepped in to fill his shoes. My brother was just as busy as I was after New Year’s. We’d talked about finding another architect to join the team.
While Tobias loved the planning, the measurements and the tiny details, I simply liked to get shit done. I liked to watch a bare patch of dirt be transformed into a home. As long as the construction was quality and our clients were happy, I didn’t care if the roof style was gable, hip or mansard.
For Dad’s succession plan, our varied interests had worked out perfectly. He didn’t have to choose a son to take over management because Tobias had no interest in replacing him as the general manager. That position would fall to me while my brother would happily spend his days at a drafting desk.
Dad was nowhere near ready to retire, and at twenty-nine, I was nowhere near ready to take over. I had too much to learn from Dad. I had too much respect for him to step on his shoes.
So for now, I managed the foremen and their staff while putting together estimates for our largest and most pretentious jobs. Dad supervised the project managers who acted as the liaisons with the foremen to make sure the customers were happy and that schedules and budgets were on track. In the past year, we’d hired three new project managers, and still, we couldn’t keep up.
Holiday Homes was growing. And with it, so were my hours.
I pushed away from my desk, hitting the break room for a glass of water. Then I came back to my office and got to work. I was about halfway through my notes on the Winthrop project when a noise echoed from the ceiling. My fingers froze above the keyboard. “What the hell?”
Another noise had me standing and hustling to the stairs. Everyone should have gone home already. The lights in the hallway were off. Every office was dark.
Except one.
Stella’s.
What was she still doing here? It was her first day. If anyone should have headed home by now, it was her.
Stella’s feet were bare, her heels discarded by the window. The sleeves of her sweater were bunched at her elbows as she scrambled to pick up ice cubes off the floor.
“What are you doing?”
“Ah!” she screamed, her face whipping to the door. “Oh my God, you scared me.”
“Sorry.” I held up my hands, stepping into the office. “I thought I was the only one left, then I heard a noise.”
“I bumped my glass over. It was empty except for the ice.” She plucked up three more cubes, dropping them into the glass before standing to her feet.
Her hair was coming out of its knot, a few long, blond tendrils framing her face.
Stella Marten was one of the most beautiful women I’d ever seen.
And my best friend’s sister.
I don’t get to think she’s beautiful. I’d been reminding myself that for years.
I didn’t get to drown in those hazel eyes or think about kissing her soft lips. I didn’t get to fantasize about her toned legs wrapped around my hips or the fact that I’d had her panties in my hand this morning.
Off-limits. Stella had always been off-limits.
“How was your first day?” I asked, walking into the room and taking the single empty chair opposite hers at the desk.
“Good.” She sank into her chair, swiveling it back and forth. There was more paperwork on the desk than I’d expected to see. “Your dad believes in drinking from a fire hose, doesn’t he?”
“Two fire hoses.” I laughed. “What did he give you?”
“The Jensen remodel.”
I cringed.
“That bad?”
“It’s over budget and behind schedule. ”
I expected a groan. Maybe a string of expletives. But Stella sat straighter and nodded. “I’ll fix it.”
“I believe you can.”
Stella, like me, didn’t back down from many challenges. Even though she was two years younger, as kids, she’d always kept up with Guy, Tobias and me. On our bikes, no matter how hard she’d had to pedal, she’d kept pace. At the swimming pool, when we’d dared her to try the high dive, she’d plugged her nose and jumped. And at the ski hill, when we’d all attempted our first black diamond, she’d followed us down the mountain.
“Thanks.” Her cheeks colored.
That blush of hers was as pretty as her eyes. I’d seen it countless times in my life and it never got old.
“So what can you tell me about the Jensen project?” she asked.
“Well... it’s been a disaster from the start, partly because we didn’t have the time to take it on and should have turned it down. But Dad is friends with Joe Jensen and didn’t want to say no. Then, because we didn’t turn it down and no one had time, it hasn’t really had a primary resource. We’ve all chipped in, here and there, but what it needs is a driver to see it through.”
“I can do that.” She nodded at the mess of papers on her desk. “As soon as I make sense of this.”
“I did the original estimate. I think they’ve had a few change orders since, but I can go through the details with you if you’d like.”
“Really? That would be great.”
“How about now?”
“If you don’t mind.”
“Not at all.” I had other work to do, but in the past year, I’d found it harder and harder to stay away from Stella.
I blamed it on that damn party Guy had organized last year at Big Sky. Stella had come along to ski, then party at the condo. She’d taken a dip in the hot tub every night and the image of her in that orange bikini was burned into my brain.
It was like a lightbulb had turned on. Stella wasn’t Stella, my friend’s little sister and the tagalong. Stella was Stella .
Beautiful. Smart. Charming. Sexy.
I liked Stella.
Despite the reasons I shouldn’t.
I carried my chair around to her side of the desk as she slid over a file folder. Then we dove in, spending the next hour going through the drawings, schedule and progress update notes.
“Tomorrow, let’s find an hour, and I’ll take you out to the jobsite.”
“Thanks, Heath.”
“You’re welcome.”
Her eyes met mine, and for a moment, I almost leaned in. For a year, I’d been tempted to cross the line. To taste the lips I’d wanted to taste for months. But Guy’s voice rang in my head.
Off-limits.
“This project seems to be costing a hand and a foot, doesn’t it?” she asked.
“Huh?” I blinked. “A hand and... oh. You mean it costs an arm and a leg. That’s the saying.”
“A hand and a foot seem less extreme than an arm and a leg.” She waved it off. “You know how sayings go. Potato, tomato.”
“Also not a saying.”
“Po-tah-toe, toe-mah-toe.”
I fought a smile. “Still not right.”
“It makes sense to me.” She shrugged. “Disagree to agree. ”
“That’s...” I lost the battle and laughed. God, she was funny. In the way that she never tried to be funny.
She was just . . . Stella.
“It’s late.” I relaxed into my chair. “I was planning on ordering in some dinner. Want to stick around and eat? Or are you ready to get out of here?”
“I could eat.”
“What do you feel like?”
“Whatever you want. Surprise me.”
I pulled my phone from my pocket and opened the Door Dash app. I’d had enough meals at the Marten house to know that Stella loved pepperoni pizza. With it ordered, I nodded to the papers on her desk. “Besides the Jensen project, what else did my dad give you?”
“That’s the only project for now, but he mentioned some general organization stuff. During my interview, I told him how I’d researched this new project management software for my old company. I put this entire pitch together about how it worked and how it could improve efficiency and customer communication, but my boss didn’t want to show it to the owner. He said our processes worked fine, so why change them?”
“Ah. Is that why you left?”
“Partly. I also really like the homes you guys build.”
“They’re the best.” Pride laced my voice.
Dad had established Holiday Homes with his two hands, blood, sweat and back-breaking hours. His standards had been passed down to our craftsmen, and he never settled for less than exceptional. He might not wield a hammer these days, but he hired men who shared his craftsmanship. They built homes that they’d all be proud to live in themselves.
“What’s the software?” I asked.
“It’s just a client interface. The customers can log in to see their schedules and invoices. It’s where you’d process change orders. The crew takes pictures of their progress each day so we can upload the photos into a dashboard. It makes the entire process more transparent. Which is probably why my old boss didn’t want to do it. It would be harder to hide missed dates.”
“Dad’s a big advocate for being upfront about the schedule. I bet he started salivating about this.”
She smiled. “He was pretty excited.”
“Dad’s all about organization these days. He feels like we’ve got a solid crew, but we’re short-staffed on the business side of things.” Considering Stella and I were both here after dark, he wasn’t wrong.
“What do you think?” she asked.
It was the first time anyone had asked me that question in a while. “I think sometimes Dad wants to make this business perfect so that when he retires, it’s smooth sailing for me and Tobias. Except he forgets that neither of us mind some rough waters.”
“You’d get bored if it was perfect.”
“Yeah, I would.” A familiar feeling settled in my chest. A feeling I usually got around Stella. Talking to her was like talking to my oldest friend. She knew me, understood me, arguably better than anyone else, including her brother.
Stella was more insightful. Maybe it was just a female thing, but she asked the questions guys didn’t often ask.
My comfort with her was just another reason that she’d been tempting me for a year. The bikini incident had opened my eyes, but if I was being honest with myself, I’d been drawn to Stella for a lot longer. Which was why I tore my gaze away from her beautiful face and stood, returning the chair to the other side of the desk.
“I’m keeping you from your work,” she said. “Sorry.”
“Don’t apologize. I’m going to head downstairs.” I needed to put a staircase between us before I did something dumb. “I’ll holler when dinner gets here.”
“Okay. Thanks again.”
“Always.” I smiled and disappeared.
My office was cold compared to hers and didn’t smell half as good without her sweet perfume, but small interactions with Stella were necessary. Otherwise, my body would get ideas about doing things to hers. Dirty, delicious things.
The delivery guy was prompt, and before I’d resecured the boundaries with Stella, he came into the building. I traded him a seven-dollar tip for a pepperoni pizza, then set it up in the break room before taking the stairs two at a time.
Stella was focused on the Jensen file when I reached her office, a pen in her hand and a pencil between her lips.
To be that pencil.
I swallowed hard. “Dinner’s here.”
Her eyes flew to the door and her mouth fell open, the pencil dropping. “Be right there.”
Damn, but she was pretty with her hair falling out and her guard down.
I forced myself away, dragging a hand over my face. What the hell was wrong with me tonight? As of today, we were coworkers. Another reason to keep our relationship strictly platonic.
When Dad had hired her, I’d told him it was a great decision. Stella would be an asset to our team. Except maybe shoving my attraction aside might be harder than I’d realized. We’d be spending time together. I’d see her daily.
Off-limits.
Whatever was going on with me, I needed to get my shit together and fast because Stella wasn’t going anywhere. We worked together now, and Guy would cut off my balls if I dared touch his sister .
What would he say if he knew I’d had her panties in my hand today?
Poor Stella. I chuckled to myself as I took out plates and forks and napkins in the break room. I doubted anyone else had seen her thong. Gretchen would have told her if she’d noticed. The only reason I’d spotted it was because I’d been checking Stella out, drinking in those long legs and those perfectly fitted black pants. Not too loose. Not too tight. Just sexy as fuck.
The thong had been clinging to her hemline, almost dropping to her heels. The image of her wearing only those stilettos and that thong popped into my head and my cock jerked behind the zipper of my jeans.
Don’t think about Stella naked. Don’t think about Stella naked.
“Fuck my life,” I muttered.
“What?”
I turned to see Stella behind me. “Oh, nothing. Just thinking about a job.”
A blow job.
Goddamn it, Holiday . I gestured to the table, taking the chair in the corner.
Stella sat opposite me and flipped open the pizza box, closing her eyes as she dragged in the scent of garlic and cheese. “I love pepperoni pizza.”
“I know.”
She opened her eyes and took a slice, moaning at the first bite. “I was starving.”
I watched her chew, the way her lips moved and the satisfaction on her face as she closed her eyes again, her entire focus on tasting her food. That was how Stella did most things. With intent. She’d always had this way of savoring the tastes, smells and sounds that the rest of us took for granted .
In my world of endless distraction, Stella made me stop and take pause.
A drop of sauce leaked off the slice and landed on her sweater, right at the upper swell of her left breast.
I stared, my mouth watering to lick it away.
“Seriously?” She set her pizza down and dove for the napkins. “I swear you are cursed.”
“You’re not curs—wait. Did you say I’m cursed?”
“Well, yeah.” She blotted at the sauce but all it did was make the orange stain grow. Finally she gave up, balling the napkins and tossing them aside. “Damn it. This was a new sweater.”
“I’m sure it will come out. But you didn’t answer my question. Why am I cursed?”
“Because my most embarrassing moments all happen when you’re around.” She gestured to her sweater. “Example one. Example two is the thong in my purse.”
I grinned. “So that makes me cursed.”
“Absolutely. The list goes on and on. Remember that time Guy bought a Slip ’N Slide my sophomore year? You and Tobias came over to try it out and dared me to do it too. Which I did.”
“And your top came off.” The image of her bare breasts as she’d streaked into the house was crystal clear, even all these years later.
That pretty pink flush crept into her cheeks. “See? You’re cursed. That was horrific.”
“I didn’t mind,” I teased. “That Slip ’N Slide incident was one of my favorite memories from high school.”
“Cursed.” She reached for her pizza and took a bite.
I took my own piece, turning my attention to eating so I wouldn’t think more about Stella’s breasts. But that orange stain was like a beacon to her chest, and after my tenth glance, I knew it was time to call this day quits. Before I made a mistake.
“Want any more?” I asked, and when she shook her head, I flipped the lid on the box closed, taking it to the fridge. “Are you about done tonight?”
“Yeah. Thanks for dinner.”
“You’re welcome.” I nodded to the door. “It’s dark. Grab your stuff and I’ll walk you out.”
“Okay.” She collected the trash and put it in the garbage can, then slipped out of the room.
“Hell.” I rubbed a hand over my face.
This had to stop. For good.
I’d made a promise years ago and had kept it for too long to break it now.
Guy had always been protective of Stella, in his own way. He teased her mercilessly. But behind her back, he’d been a pit bull since high school, barking at any male who’d so much as glanced in her direction.
The day she’d walked into Bozeman High as a freshman, a shy, beautiful girl, Stella had turned a lot of heads. Guy had made me promise that if anyone made a move on his sister, I’d help kick their ass. He’d spread that word and no one had been stupid enough to cross him and ignite his infamous temper.
Guy was right to watch out for Stella. Sweet, sweet Stella.
I went to my office and grabbed my coat and keys, then walked to the lobby and waited for her. When the click of her heels sounded on the stairs, I looked up and my mouth went dry.
She’d taken her hair out. The blond strands draped around her face and hung down nearly to her waist. That hair had been a part of many adult fantasies.
“Ready?” she asked.
“Yeah. Let’s get out of here.” Fast. I strode to the door, holding it open for her. Then I locked up the office and fell into step beside her as we crossed the parking lot to her SUV.
“See you tomorrow, Heath.”
“Bye, Stell.” I walked to my truck, climbing in and waiting until she reversed out of her spot and pulled onto the street. Then I let out a frustrated groan.
She was off-limits.
Why did that make me want her even more?
Of all the women in the world, why was Stella the one who tempted me? Maybe she was right.
I was cursed.