Chapter 2 #2
My grandfather’s integrity had made our family business what it was, as much as his skill with historical renovations and community projects. But under my father’s leadership, it had become something I barely recognized anymore. The “Claybourne deal”—such a clean, polite way to say “stabbing your son in the back”—had been the final straw.
But my father had been right about one thing: it wasn’t easy being in charge.
This time, I wasn’t walking away. I’d built a reputation—a perfect record of satisfied clients and beautiful renovations—and I wasn’t going to let one ridiculous, unreasonable man ruin it.
My frustration crystallized into something harder and colder.
If Delaney wanted to be in charge so badly, I’d give him exactly what he wanted. No more suggestions. No more expertise. No more guidance. Just complete, unquestioning compliance.
Let him see how that worked out.
“You know what, Delaney? You’re absolutely right.” My voice was calm, almost pleasant, though my hands had balled into fists. “From now on, we’ll do things your way. You’re the boss.”
He scowled for a second like he was about to argue with this, too. But his eyes caught on something behind me, and his anger morphed into wide-eyed blankness.
“B-brewer.” Delaney’s fingers clutched my elbow, the unexpected contact sending a jolt of awareness through me. “Behind you.”
Frowning, I glanced over my shoulder… only to find my Newfoundland sitting there looking really fucking proud of herself.
“Teeny.” I shook my head disapprovingly, but I couldn’t keep the fondness out of my voice. “What have I told you about opening the camper door on your own?”
Teeny ignored me and instead trotted toward us, tongue lolling, ready to greet our visitor.
“Stop!” Delaney shouted, backing up a step with both his hands outstretched. “Stop right there.”
I faced him again, wondering what the hell was wrong with him. The man who’d gone toe-to-toe with me was gone, and suddenly, he was the guy who’d flooded his living room again. A man whose fundamental understanding of the universe seemed to have been upended.
“Calm down,” I told him. I reached for his hand, but he took another step away. “Delaney?—”
But I’d bet any amount of money Delaney couldn’t even hear me. He was staring at my sweet dog like she was a monster ready for attack… rather than a slightly disobedient sweetheart with an inconvenient knack for opening doors.
For the record, I hadn’t taught Teeny that party trick. I was pretty sure she’d learned it when her previous owners, a hard-of-hearing elderly couple I’d done work for years ago, kept forgetting to let her out of the house to do her business. But like me, Teeny hadn’t forgotten the things she’d learned when she was young.
Realizing I couldn’t get through to Delaney, I made a grab for Teeny instead, but she scurried away from me like we were playing her favorite keep-away game. She made a beeline for Delaney…
And stuck her head in his crotch.
Delaney leapt backward like an acrobat. “No! Shoo. ”
“Teeny,” I groaned. “Sit.” I grabbed her collar, ignoring her mournful whine. “Delaney, it’s okay. She’s not dangerous.”
But once again, Delaney wasn’t listening. With both eyes fixed on Teeny and his hands clasped protectively over his crotch, he continued backing away?—
“Delaney, stop !” I shouted, letting go of the dog and moving toward him as I realized a second too late what was right behind him.
But it was definitely too late.
Delaney’s foot caught on a rock, and he stumbled, crashing backward into the support pole that held up my makeshift awning. The tension lines that held it to the pole snapped free with a metallic twang, and before either of us could move, the canvas dropped on top of us…
And on the fucking grill.
Flames erupted instantly, licking up the fabric with terrifying speed.
Delaney yelped and jumped clear. Teeny let out a bark as she did the same.
Still underneath the tarp, I tried to grab it and yank it away from the fire, but it was still attached to the camper at two points, making it hard to maneuver.
Then, a gust of wind blew, inflating the material like a burning parachute. It tore out of my grasp, sailed into the air… and landed directly on the roof of my camper.
“No,” I heard Delaney whisper in horror. “ No .”
For a split second, I froze as the fire quickly engulfed the only real home I’d known in years. Then training and instinct kicked in, and I moved into emergency mode.
I grabbed Delaney’s arm and pulled him back to a safe distance. “Stay here,” I ordered, and then I sprinted toward the camper door, Teeny at my heels.
I needed to get my emergency bag, a few of my grandfather’s tools, my grandmother’s treasured Belles Pivoines teacups, the box of photos?—
Inside, smoke was already filling the small space, making my eyes burn and water. I grabbed the essentials as quickly as I could, tossing them outside in a pile. My lungs burned, but I pushed forward, pulling open cabinets and drawers, vaguely aware of Delaney still behind the camper, throwing hunks of old, icy snow on the roof like he and the flames were in a one-sided, useless snowball fight.
“Brewer?” I heard him call. “What are you doing? Brewer !”
I went back inside for another armload—this time, mostly dog supplies—and when I emerged, I saw him running toward me, face pale with panic. He caught my arm with a grip that was surprisingly strong for his size.
“Stop, Brewer. You can’t.” He pointed at the roof, which was already blackening. His voice was ragged with what sounded like genuine fear. “You can’t go back in.”
I hesitated, looking back at my home. It was small, but there was still so much of me inside—my music collection, my books, the quilt my grandmother had made.
Delaney was right, though. The roof was starting to buckle, and another minute inside could be dangerous.
I took one last look at the camper… then ran my hands through my hair and turned away, my stomach sick with shock and grief. Delaney was already on his phone, calling for help, his voice cracking as he gave directions to my remote property.
“They’re coming,” he told me when he hung up. “Brewer, I’m so… I didn’t mean…”
I couldn’t bring myself to respond. Teeny pressed against my leg, whimpering softly, and I placed a hand on her head as we watched the flames consume our home.
Beside me, Delaney stood in horrified silence, his earlier anger completely forgotten. I caught him muttering to himself, “Oh God . Oh fuck ?—”
Despite everything, a small part of me wanted to reassure him, but I couldn’t find the words. Not yet. Not while watching everything I’d built burn to the ground.
By the time the fire truck arrived, it was too late to save the camper. The firefighters soaked everything down, but what remained was a dripping, charred shell of my home.
“Not safe to walk in there,” one of the firefighters said, confirming what I already knew. “Not much left to salvage anyway. Sorry, Brew.”
I nodded, keeping my face neutral. “Thanks, Gideon.”
Teeny pressed harder against my leg, and I scratched behind her ears absently.
Gideon studied the wreckage. “What a freak accident.” His brow furrowed. “How’d you say that pole came down, again?”
I hesitated but didn’t look at Delaney. “Accident, like you said. Just glad everyone’s safe.”
Gideon nodded slowly, but his gaze shifted to Delaney.
“You look familiar.” He held out a hand. “Gideon Mason.”
“Delaney—” His voice cracked, from the smoke or from emotion, I couldn’t tell. “Delaney Monroe. I’m new in town. Sort of. I’m?—”
Gideon was already nodding. “Tam Monroe’s brother…”
I could almost hear the words Gideon didn’t say— the one who doesn’t play hockey —and knew Delaney heard them, too, when his shoulders slumped slightly.
“Yeah,” he whispered. “That’s me.”
“You got someplace to stay, Brew?” Gideon asked, ruffling Teeny’s fur. “With your cousin, maybe?”
I shook my head. “Hayes is allergic, and he doesn’t have the room.” I shrugged. “I’ll figure it out.”
Gideon nodded. “I’d say a hotel, but the Crabapple doesn’t take dogs, and the Scarlet Maple’s pricy. Maybe a friend—?” Another firefighter called Gideon’s name. “Shit, hang on,” he said as he stepped away.
Delaney and I stood together under a spindly tree, inhaling frigid, smoke-tinged air. Though it was still early, the horizon was already turning sunset pink, and the temperature had dropped precipitously.
I tried to think about my options. I had money, but finding a place that would take Teeny on short notice would be challenging. I could probably crash with one of the guys who worked with me for a night or two?—
“I know you can figure this out on your own, and you… you probably don’t want my help right now,” Delaney said suddenly, his voice cautious. “But I feel terrible.”
I kept my eyes on the sky, not trusting myself to respond. The last thing I wanted was anyone’s pity, especially his.
“The hotel Gideon mentioned would probably be a great idea,” he continued. “If only it wasn’t so expensive.”
When I didn’t reply, he swallowed audibly. “Look, I know you and I aren’t friends, per se, especially after today, but I want to make sure you have a place to stay until you can figure out something permanent. There’s snow coming, unless you trust Hen Lattimer’s trick leg, and I… I’d like to help you out, if you’ll let me.”
I turned to look at him then, surprised by the genuine concern in his voice.
“Please?” he said, almost eagerly. “Neighbors helping neighbors is how small towns work, right? At least, that’s what Tam says. It wouldn’t have to be a big deal.”
I studied him for a long moment. His glasses were smudged with soot, his expensive coat stained with smoke, his expression openly conflicted. For someone who’d been ready to throttle me an hour ago, he looked startlingly worried about my well-being.
“Delaney,” I said carefully. “I meant what I told Gideon. It was an accident?—”
“I know! I know. But I want to help,” he blurted. “I need to. Please let me do this.”
I inhaled deeply, considering. Staying with Delaney was less than ideal, and our contentious relationship was only one reason. The fact that I found a pissed-off Delaney insanely hot was a far more pressing one.
More than that, I’d just agreed to give him exactly what he wanted on the renovation—to be the boss, to have things his way. It would be hard enough to bite my tongue about choices I knew were wrong for his house and let him learn the hard way; doing it while sleeping under his roof would make it ten times harder.
But I didn’t have a lot of options in the short term. If I told Hayes, he’d be worried. And, allergies or not, he’d guilt me into staying on the sofa in the one-bedroom apartment where he and his former frat bro lived like video-game-loving raccoons, awake all night and subsisting on trash.
It was the least peaceful option I could think of.
I shuddered and nodded once. “Yeah. Okay, then. If you’re sure.”
“Really?” Relief flooded his face. “I’m sure. I’m totally sure. So, why don’t you get, um, T-teeny in your truck, and I’ll help you grab your stuff, then we’ll go get you set up.” He started to turn.
I caught his arm, stopping him. His muscles tensed beneath my hand, and for a second, our eyes locked. “Delaney… thanks.” I meant it sincerely, despite everything.
“No problem.” He managed a small, teasing smile. “Thanks for agreeing, when I know that’s your least favorite thing.”
He was confusing the two of us, I was pretty sure, but I wasn’t going to call him out when he was being so generous. “I’ll keep Teeny out of your hair, okay? And I’ll help out around the house. In fact, I insist on it.”
“Help with…” He shook his head slightly. “You’re already working on the house full-time.”
“I meant doing household stuff. Shopping and laundry and shit. I’m not much of a cook, but I can clean.” I managed a weak smile of my own. “Maybe you could make up a chore chart. You seem like a chore chart guy.”
“I… I am, but…” He blinked several times. “Why would I ask you to?—?”
Gideon approached, and I turned to greet him. “Are we all set here?”
“For now?” He nodded. “I’ll have the report for your insurance company tomorrow. I’ll call you.”
“Great. Or you can find me at Delaney’s place.”
“Yeah?” Gideon’s eyebrows rose slightly as he glanced between us. “You’re staying there?”
I shrugged. “Delaney’s idea.”
Gideon nodded in approval as his eyes met Delaney’s. “Nice of you to offer.”
“Oh. Well. That’s not… You see…” Delaney waved his hands aimlessly, then stopped. He swallowed audibly, panic dawning on his face like he was only belatedly processing what was happening.
I felt my smile fall.
Was he regretting his impulsive offer already? I probably should have jumped in to provide him with an out, but something in me—maybe exhaustion, maybe pettiness—decided to wait and see how he’d handle it.
After all, he’d said he didn’t want my help or my expertise, right? He’d said he was the boss? He could figure it out.
“It’s no problem,” he finally said in a small voice. “It’ll be great.”
I wasn’t sure which of us he was trying to convince.
I packed up the few possessions I’d managed to salvage, loaded Teeny into my truck, and followed Delaney’s Audi back toward town.
The reality of the situation slowly sank in as we drove. My home was gone. Most of my possessions were gone. And I was about to move in temporarily with the prickliest, most difficult client I’d ever had. A man who seemed to view me as his personal nemesis. A man I couldn’t stop thinking about.
This was either going to be a complete disaster or…
No, who was I kidding. It was definitely going to be a disaster.
Possibly the biggest one of my life.